I waved my arms at him, even jumped up and down upon the stairs as much as I dared. But he, so taken up with the seagulls, never looked to me. I threw things at the birds, but whatever I hurled was way off, nowhere near. I must smash the helmet glass, I thought, I have to smash the glass. On the top right at the tip of the staircase, at the end of all the treads, was a sharp broken one, with a metal brace. And against this now I banged my head and the glass. Smack! Smack! Smack! Nothing. Not a scratch. And I mustn’t do it too hard or I’ll bring the sharp edge right through my own face and have me impaled for ever on top of a stairway that leads nowhere. Smack! Smack! Smack! A crack now, a good crack! Smack! Smack! Crash, the edge goes through and slices at my cheek. But it’s done! It’s done, the window’s broke. I pulled the bits out with my thick gloves. I called then, I called for all my lungs’ worth.

‘Halloo! Halloo! Out there! Over here! Over here!’

He didn’t hear me. Though now I could hear him, as he jumped about between the gulls’ return, he was singing, he was singing in this foul weather, in this foul place.

‘Homily, homily, homily, homily!’

That’s what I thought it was.

‘Halloo! Over there! Can you hear me?

‘Homily, homily –’ but that wasn’t it, that wasn’t quite it – ‘Ormily, Ormily.’ Yes, that was it, ‘Ormily, Ormily, Ormily!’

‘Hallo! Hallo! I’m over here!’

He did stop a moment then. He looked out at me. I waved madly at him. He waved back, even took his hat off in salutation, and the moment he did some great gull plundered it, carrying it off for ever. Then I saw his hair.

It was fair and fluffy and so light. Then I knew him. He was Clod’s friend. He was called Tummis. This was Tummis Iremonger so far out in the heaping land.

‘Are you Tummis?’ I cried.

‘Who are you?’

‘A friend of Clod’s, of Clod Iremonger’s! Hang on a minute, hang on there!’ I cried. ‘I’m coming over to you. I’ve got a line.’

‘No!’ he shouted. ‘I don’t want it! I’m not going back.’

‘You can’t stay out here. The storm!’

‘They won’t let me marry Ormily! Won’t let me!’

‘I’m coming over!’

‘And Clod’s being sent away!’

‘I’m coming to you!’

‘Oh, my Ormily!’

‘Here I come!’

‘I shan’t go back!’

The storm was getting up behind him, a great wave rising up in the distance, a great black billowing wave of bricks and glass of bones and rubble, all coming this way.

‘Hold on, Tummis! Nearly there!’