It was the breeze on her cheek which woke her with its chill caress. She murmured, half-asleep and fumbled within the sleeping bag for her boyfriend. The bag was warm, but he was gone.
Confused, she crawled shivering over the heap of bedding to the tent flap and blearily peered out. By the cold light of the stars she saw the flicker of his body disappearing into the trees. Beyond the wood boundary the mist was laying over the river.
Around the dead embers of the fire the debris was scattered - bottles, clothes, inhibitions - but all her friends were in various states of intoxicated coma zipped within their nylon cocoons. Drunk yes, daft no.
She crawled back into the tent to grope round for her watch. 4.30. Hmmm, the others wouldn't be up for at least another four hours after last night's excesses. She wasn't sure why her head didn't feel like it was in a vice, but she was buzzing; tingling almost. She smiled to herself. Perhaps she should give him a surprise; he was awake after all and very much a morning man.
She pulled on her jeans, a tight t-shirt and ankle boots. Hey, so heeled lace-up boots weren't everyday camping gear; but these things were only to be expected of a city girl like her, weren't they? She wrapped one of their blankets round her, laughing as the smell of dope wafted up.
As she headed down to the trees her heels pierced the crisp ground and she stifled a giggle. Peering into the shade she went more carefully, looking round for his white t-shirt.
C'mon, c'mon, where are ya? Ha! There, glowing pale in the moonlight.
She carefully made her way towards him, steadying herself on tree trunks and avoiding the crispier piles of leaves. Round the tree she crept and reached out for him. Nothing. Confused she peered round the tree - it had just been the mist billowing.
"Hello?"
There was silence, the mist sucking away any sound. She looked behind her and made her way back along towards the path, but its route was not obvious and, deciding she must have missed it, she doubled back on herself.
Suddenly there was a twist in the path and she was down at the river. She looked down nervously at its languid blackness, it seemed almost to ooze like oil.
Fine, she thought, and turned to head back up. As she clambered between the trees branches caught in her hair, and as she put up a hand to protect herself thorns slashed across her palm. Upset, she moved along parallel with the thicket, and this time was almost relieved when she came upon a grassy slope leading down to the water.