She wraps the cloth around the metal and grips it tightly. Slowly, a degree at a time, it begins to move.

‘That’s the best I can do. It’s off, but I think we need a plumber.’

‘I usually ask Stan to do this sort of job for me but he’s away up the west coast.’

‘Can you think of anyone else?’

Georgia shakes her head. ‘There was the person who put the heating in, but that was a while ago. I suppose Stan might know of someone if I send him a message. Just depends if he has any reception.’

‘Right. We need to get this cleared up anyway so why don’t you go and get that sorted, and I’ll deal with the mop.’

‘I can manage, you know! I’ve lived in this house all my life. I don’t need to be told what to do.’

Tess points to the bucket under the sink. ‘I know. And I’m not trying to take over, but the water must have been dripping into the cupboard since before I left for work. Let me do this. We need a plumber, and maybe an electrician, and we need them pretty quickly.’ She isn’t sure anything is safe. ‘And I can’t do those things, but I can manage a mop.’

What had seemed like a quirky kitchen with a hotch-potch of vintage appliances, a post-war enamel standalone sink under the window and an electric cooker which could easily be forty years old, suddenly looks like a death trap. Tess feels the project-management muscle inside her begin to twitch.

Georgia is gone for about twenty minutes, during which Tess has taken as much as possible out into the garden. The chairs, pots and pans and anything electrical are now arranged on the lawn with as much logic as she had time for.

When Georgia comes back, she stands in the doorway and takes in the damage. ‘Sorry for snapping, I’ve got used to not having anyone else here.’

Tess wrings out the mop for what feels like the hundredth time. ‘It’s OK. But the water has gone under the lino and the floorboards are wet. And I’m not sure the sink should really be so close to those electric sockets so I’ve poked the switches off with that old broom handle. We’re going to need to pull the table out of the way to get a decent look at the floor. It’s all pretty sodden, I’m afraid.’ She doesn’t want to be rude, but things need to be done. ‘Would you be able to give me a hand with the table? If we could move it across so it’s under the mantelpiece, it would be a start, and then maybe we can get the lino up on this side of the room to begin with.’