The wind had died right down but the rain was still falling steadily and she was chilled through. Blinking the water out of her eyes, she looked round, determination building up in her. ‘If I drive for help, I’ll have to leave you to Cynthia’s tender mercies. I’m not doing that.’

‘You’ve got no choice. I’m too big for you to carry.’

‘There are two of us to carry you.’

‘One and a half. Bet she’s even weaker than she looks.’ His grin changed quickly into a grimace. ‘Ah, Megan, it hurts like hell!’

He was still clasping her hand and she bent her head to kiss his fingers quickly. ‘Listen. I’m going to get you into the back of the station wagon and drive you to hospital. Moving you will hurt, but it’ll be safer than leaving you here to die from exposure.’ She raised her voice and bellowed, ‘Cynthia!’

A figure appeared in the doorway.

‘I need your help to lift Ben into the car.’

‘Me?’

‘Would you rather we left him lying here in the rain, you silly bitch? Come out here and help me at once.’

‘How dare you speak to me like that!’

‘Get out here at once or I’ll drag you out by your hair, Cynthia Berevic!’

A shadow of a grin passed over Ben’s face.

With Cynthia’s reluctant help, Megan managed to get the station wagon backed up as close to her husband as possible. ‘Go and fetch all the pillows and blankets off our bed, Cynthia. Oh, and while you’re there, check whether the roof is still leaking. And hurry, will you!’

‘This is the last time I ever come and stay with you two! It’s positively primitive here – roofs that leak, bathrooms like common wash houses, and not even a phone to call for help!’

Cynthia tottered to and fro, grumbling non-stop, while Megan piled the blankets and pillows in the car. Ben lay with his eyes closed, his face tense, but he was shivering now.

Megan bent over him. ‘Ben, we need to get you into the car.’

His eyes gleamed briefly at her. ‘Go ahead! I’ll try not to… faint on you.’

‘I know, love.’ The endearment had slipped out without her noticing it, but he didn’t seem to mind. For a moment, she thought she had heard him murmur, ‘Dearest Megan,’ but she couldn’t be sure and now was not the time to ask him to repeat his words.

Two minutes later they were ready to lift him into the car. ‘If you let go of him before I tell you to,’ Megan hissed at Cynthia, ‘I’ll strangle you!’

‘We’re not all strapping country bumpkins like you!’

‘Shut up and save what little strength you do have for the task at hand!’