‘The water got into the library.’ That was the boy. About eighteen or nineteen, like Kirsty. A dark, gentle-looking sort, except that he was gulping and slurping his tea, and dunking and devouring his biscuits, chewing with his mouth open. He caught Bex’s eye, and then quickly looked away.

‘It’s fine, Daniel.’ Kirsty spoke with an edge to her voice that seemed unwarranted, given the innocuous nature of his comment. ‘We shifted the books off the lower shelves, so not a problem.’

Daniel looked up from his tea. ‘Not a problem? The library’s flooded. They’re beautiful old books in there. I can’t believe they were rescued from the reservoir and then you put them at risk here.’

Kirsty shot him a piercing look. ‘The books are okay, Daniel. Why do you get so upset about a few books?’

‘But if you’d let me divert the water to the other side of the big field …’

Bex’s dad spoke, his voice firm. ‘It’s fine, Daniel. Let it go.’

Bex flicked her eyes from person to person, feeling for the undercurrents in the conversation. Kirsty saw her and dropped her shoulders and smiled. ‘The books were from the manor house,’ she said.

‘Oh.’ Bex knew all about the drowned house. Their ancestral home, lost under the waters when Ladybower Reservoir was created over fifty years ago.

‘Daniel’s helping out this summer,’ Kirsty added. ‘Sometimes he has his own ideas about how Dad should do things. Forgets he’s paid to do what Dad wants.’

Daniel looked at Kirsty through narrow eyes, then took a breath and laughed. ‘Your dad’s put so much effort into making sure the pig barn doesn’t flood that the water ends up in the house. I just suggested we divert it.’

‘We’re not doing that,’ said Bex’s dad, placing his teacup down in a way that made it clear this was the end of the matter. ‘If the house were to flood we can always move upstairs or outside. Pigs don’t have those options. They mustn’t get flooded.’

Kirsty said, ‘It’s sweet how much he cares for his pigs.’

Daniel smiled awkwardly at Bex’s dad. ‘I’m surprised you don’t build a robot to move the sandbags automatically when it rains.’ He was obviously trying to lighten the mood, but Bex had no idea what he was talking about.

‘Dad makes robots,’ Kirsty said. ‘In fact, normally he gets the robot to make the tea.’

Bex’s dad coughed. ‘It’s a prototype. It takes a little longer than I’d like.’

Kirsty rolled her eyes.

Fenton shoved his nose under Bex’s arm, shifting it up so she spilled tea on the table.

‘Dear me, Dad,’ Kirsty said. ‘For a competent animal trainer, you’ve done a shitty job with that dog.’

‘Sorry,’ Bex said. ‘It was my fault.’ She stroked Fenton’s sleek head.