I’d even … I’d even abandon all … all contact with Carla. I’d leave her completely alone. I’d cut all ties. Stop all the pining and the hankering. Stop all the accidental meetings and the funny business. Just so long as she was …

The surveyor arrived after half an hour. He said he’d issued Carla with an eviction order three days ago. There was a huge crack, he said, running right across the middle of the back lawn. ‘It was so deep, it quite literally gave me the heebie-jeebies,’ he said (I thought his use of the word ‘heebie-jeebies’ was clumsy. Inappropriate. Under these difficult circumstances. But then I told myself that it was probably just the Author being a thoughtless cow – or, who knows, maybe she has plans to expand the role of this dickhead surveyor person later on in the story and is going to make him constantly say inappropriate things at difficult moments? Oh brilliant! Inspired! Great idea! Although … well that’s my role now, isn’t it? The nutter? The sayer of inappropriate things? Just out of the blue? That’s my character now).

We were standing in what remained of the living room and the TV was still on, and a small side light. The fire brigade were running around trying to sort out the electrics. I knew they thought the TV being on was a bad sign. I kept saying, ‘Her bike isn’t on the lawn’, but I knew that she often stored it in the garage when there was rain. But the garage was gone now, too.

I wish I was more … you know … more talented with words because then I could describe this scene to you in all its … its incredible … its incredible majesty. The bungalow literally cut in half. The inside of the bungalow – all Carla’s … her things, her stuff … just as before … still all neat and quiet and … and innocent and … and her … Then this crazy drop. The churning sea. The fractured brickwork. Like a giant fist had suddenly … or a big fish had jumped straight out of the waves and taken a huge bite …

I was on the phone – the phone was working! – holding her address book in the half-dark and the spitting rain, making call after call asking if anyone had – Alys, Mallydams, Shimmy: ‘Have you seen Carla, Shimmy? I’m up in Fairlight. I’m afraid there’s been another landslip. I got a call from the coastguard. Yes. Yes I am. Well it’s … I’m afraid it’s pretty serious this time. The whole back section of the bungalow … No. That’ll be the fire services … No. That’ll be the TV. Yes. Still on. No. No. Nothing. A couple of hours ago? Did she happen to mention …? Straight home? But her bike isn’t on the … Okay. Well I … I … I … I’ll keep on searching. I promise. No, no please don’t … they … please don’t cry, Shimmy. I’ll come down and … when … You won’t be … I’ll come and … I’ll look after you, I promise. I will. I promise. You’ll be okay. She’ll turn up. She’ll be … Yes. Yes. It is too much. Both of them in one day. Yes. Well I’d better get back to … From the bungalow. It is. Yes. I’m just standing in the living room staring down into the … into the surging abyss. Yes. Okay. Well I’d better … Uh … Right. Right. Well if the shops are open by the time I manage to … then I’ll … Full fat. Okay. One pint, same as … I’ll try and … okay. Before breakfast. Yes, I will. As soon as I … Yes. Okay. Goodbye. I will. Goodbye, Shimmy … Yes, very bad luck. Yes. Goodbye, Shimmy. ’Bye. ’Bye. Goodbye.’