Helena closed her eyes and breathed deeply while he hauled up the ladder. When she opened her eyes again she was face-to-face with a pile of earth. She could smell it and felt as though she could taste it too. It was like a vertical grave, she thought, and started to sweat.

‘There’s not much room down here,’ she said, to herself as much as to Jago. ‘We’ll have to do without the bucket. I need to turn sideways.’

She edged her feet to make a bit more room and sent another heap of earth tumbling down. For a moment she didn’t dare look to see if the kitten was all right; then she heard a tiny squeak. Nausea, more sweating and a fear of fainting told her she hadn’t got long; if she collapsed down here she’d squash the kitten and it would take forever to get her out, especially if more soil fell on top of her. She gulped, reached down and snatched round her ankles until she found the kitten, grabbed it and stuffed it down her top. ‘Ladder!’ she called shakily, knowing she might vomit, hyperventilate, cry or all three at any moment.

The kitten tried to escape from her cleavage, but she clamped her hand over its head, hoping she wouldn’t suffocate it while trying to save it.

At last the ladder came down and by climbing on to the pile of earth she made room for it. Then she stepped on it and climbed up.

Jago caught her when she got to the top and hauled her through the window, supporting her when she almost landed on the floor. He kicked a chair under her and she collapsed on to it.

‘Were you suffering from claustrophobia just now?’ he asked.

Helena nodded.

‘You should have said! I’m so sorry! If I’d known, I’d have found someone else to help. Come into the kitchen and I’ll get you some brandy.’

He put his arm round her and half carried her. She still had her hand round the kitten under her top, who was now struggling. When they got to the kitchen she fished it out. ‘Here, she’s getting claustrophobia now.’

He took the wriggling bundle and guided Helena to a scarred and paint-splattered table. ‘Sit down while I reunite this ball of mischief with her mother.’

In the few moments he was gone she recovered a little and looked around her. She had longed to get a look inside this house and now was her chance to at least see the kitchen. She would have preferred not to be in a state of shock and covered with mud when she did it, though.