“There’s really very little that can be done”, says Steve.

“Steve, you’re wrong.” says Carol.

An air of disquiet falls in the tent. Carol wriggles a little to alleviate the discomfort of the lumpy forest floor. It is not usual for Steve to be wrong, and not usual for Carol to unduly contradict him.

“He can’t be far, we’ll just wait till morning” sighs Steve.

“For goodness’ sake, this isn’t bloody Dorset”, is the reply.

Steve turns over and goes to sleep. Carol doesn’t.