Jonathan was lying back against the pillows, his eyes closed, his breathing a rasping noise. A few moments later her grandmother returned with the two bricks wrapped in pieces of blanket and pushed them beneath the covers, one at his feet, and the other half-way up the bed.

‘I’ve got another couple for Beth. The water’s not got up to the fire in the range yet. I can boil the kettle and make us all a hot drink. I’ll put a tot of whisky in ’em to warm us.’

Jonathan did not answer; it seemed to be taking all his energy to concentrate on dragging in the next breath. Ella and her grandmother exchanged a worried glance.

‘You go and snuggle in beside Grandma Eland,’ her grandmother’s tone was unusually gentle, ‘and I’ll bring you both a nice cup of something warm.’

The girl shivered. ‘Don’t stay down there too long, else you’ll get a chill.’

‘Me, Missy?’ Her grandmother raised a small smile, but it was forced. ‘Not me! I’m tough as owd boots, lass.’

There was a ghost of a smile on Ella’s mouth and in this moment for the first time she saw what it was that Rob so admired about her grandmother. In the midst of the drama, after that first initial shock, she was strong and determined once more. Not even the might of the sea invading her home could intimidate Esther Godfrey for long.

‘Oh, me pigs! What about me pigs? They’ll all be drowned,’ Esther said suddenly as she handed mugs of steaming liquid first to Grandma Eland and then to Jonathan and Ella.

‘Esther love, they’ll have to take their chance. I really can’t . . .’

‘No, no. You stay there, you’re not moving again. I’ll go . . .’

‘No, Esther . . .’ But she was not listening.

‘Wait for me, Gran. I’m coming with you.’ Ella quickly swallowed the hot milk that tasted odd but warmed her and put the mug down. ‘I’m coming with you.’

‘You stay there,’ her grandmother began, starting down the stairs. As the girl followed, she snapped, ‘Do as I say, Missy.’

‘No. I’m coming to help you.’

In the fitful light, they glared at each other. ‘You get back upstairs. I dun’t want you catching cold an’ all.’

Suddenly, Ella grinned cheekily. ‘Who me, Gran? Not me . . .’ And adopting the Lincolnshire dialect so strong in her grandmother’s speech, Ella mimicked, ‘Not me. Ah’m tough as owd boots, an’ all!’

‘Eh, ya saucy minx,’ her grandmother said, but suddenly, amidst all the chaos the two were laughing. ‘Oh, very well then. Wait there ’til I get you a pair of rubber boots from the scullery, if they’ve not floated away, an’ all.’

Ella waited on the step just above the water. Bet she doesn’t come back, she thought, but then she heard her grandmother wading through the water towards her.