I screamed out again with frustration and pain and loneliness. The images of what might have happened flowed through my brain, like I was watching a load of YouTube videos. Kenny making it this far, getting stuck, not wanting to come back without having completed his mission, trying to wade on. The water getting higher, freezing him. Up to his waist, his neck. Kenny stumbling, taking in that fatal mouthful of water – just as I’d imagined doing myself. Frozen and drowned.

I tried to make better videos play. Kenny somehow skirting this part of the river, making it down to the road. Kenny safe. Rescuers coming for me.

I was shivering now, more than Tina. So cold I couldn’t think any more. The gloves were soaked, of course, so they didn’t do any good. I took them off and shoved my hands under my armpits. Tina was next to me again. I lay on my side, pulled my legs up and curled around her.

I would have cried, I think, but it turns out you can reach a level of coldness where you can’t cry, no matter how sad you are. All you are is cold.

I started to drift again. Memories from when we were small. My mum was there, but I don’t know if it was her as she really was or just something my mind invented, made up from mothers I’d seen on the telly or read about in books. She had old‑fashioned clothes – a dress with flowers on it, an apron. And her hair was tied up in a bun.

Somewhere else, I remembered my dad staggering around drunk in the kitchen. “Where is it?” Dad was yelling. “Where is it?”

Booze, I suppose he meant.

And I remembered an argument. Mum and Dad screaming at each other. No, not at each other. My dad just slurring a few words; my mum’s voice like a machine gun firing icicles. Me and Kenny upstairs, listening on the landing. Then Kenny crying in bed, the pillow over his head. Me telling Kenny a story. Maybe it was the first story I ever told him. One I’d heard at school. What story? Hansel and Gretel. The trail of bread. The two children left in the forest … No, I wouldn’t have told him that one. I wasn’t that stupid. Maybe it was the Little Mermaid, as I’ve got a memory somewhere of Kenny murmuring, “Mermaid, mermaid …”

Tina was cold next to me. She was a good dog. Well, she wasn’t clever and she didn’t do any tricks, but she loved Kenny. Good isn’t the same as clever.

I tried to warm Tina up. Wrapped myself more tightly around her.