As the door was banged shut, her smile faded, however, and she stared back up at the roof. Heavy rain was slashing sideways across the darkening landscape, so strong was the wind now. ‘How’s it going?’ she called, needing to hear his voice.

‘Nearly finished. It’s only a temporary repair, but it should hold for a day or so till this rainy spell is over, then I’ll get someone in to fix the roof properly.’

Five minutes later he eased himself up into a half crouching position and threw his tools down onto the soft earth beside her. ‘Hold that ladder steady.’

But he never got to the ladder. As he edged across the roof, an even stronger gust of wind screamed across the block, sucking up debris and leaves. Megan was thrown backwards onto the ground. The ladder thumped against the front of the house then spun away into the darkness.

She watched helplessly, unable to move for a moment. The wind pinned her down, whirled debris about and lashed the trees into a frenzy. She was still watching as it caught Ben and made him lose his footing. He came bumping down the roof, yelling and clutching in vain at the flimsy guttering as he fell off the edge. He yelled even more loudly as he landed on the ground, then his voice cut off with terrifying suddenness.

As he lay there still and silent, terror filled Megan. She tried to go to him, but couldn’t move a step, only moan his name helplessly. The wind shrieked round her like a demented torturer, lashing stinging rain and debris into her face. She could only clutch the wooden veranda post and pray he’d be all right.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the freak wind dropped and the rain started falling straight down again, showing in a pale curtain against the lights of the shack. Megan jumped to her feet and rushed across to Ben, who was lying ominously still with one leg bent under him. Dropping to her knees beside him, she felt the pulse in his neck, breathing a sigh of relief as his eyes flickered open. ‘Don’t try to move yet! You may have hurt your spine.’

He groaned and moved his head very gingerly to one side. ‘I think it’s my leg, not my back. Hurts like hell.’

By the light from the windows, Megan could see that he looked dazed.

‘Keep as still as you can and I’ll have a look.’ Unfastening his shoe, she removed it to find his left ankle swelling fast and already showing dark mottled bruising. She straightened the leg as gently as she could, but he groaned as she touched it. Quickly she checked the rest of him. He had a gash on one cheek, but it was nothing serious, and there was a long shallow scrape on the back of one hand that was bleeding sluggishly.