He looks down at me sitting in the mud and I look up at him and it takes a few seconds for me to realise what I’ve said and panic. I didn’t even realise I felt that way until the words came out, I certainly didn’t intend to say it to him. After all this, that’s the last thing he was supposed to know and the last thing I was supposed to feel. I decide to carry on from the previous sentence, eschewing that one completely. ‘I mean, these trees are my responsibility, not yours.’

He’s quiet for a minute before he speaks. ‘Sometimes people can help other people out. They can share their problems and their responsibilities because they’re neighbours, friends, or … more. Not because they want anything out of it.’

‘You can’t blame me for thinking what I think. You’re the one who didn’t tell me. I’ve been honest since the day I met you – you haven’t.’

Instead of responding, he walks around pushing at the grass with the toe of his boot, assessing the area. I take it for what it really means – he obviously isn’t going to say anything more.

I try to ignore him, to not watch him or think about what he’s doing when he disappears into the trees. I get to my feet, retrieve my shovel, move further along the riverbank and start digging another channel.

‘The ground’s saturated,’ he calls over when he comes back. ‘Balsams are tolerant of wet soil, but I don’t think the closest ones are going to survive this. The ones further back might be in with a chance if we can stop the river reaching them.’

I look up at the sky, letting the rain batter down on my skin and rinse away some of the mud.

Noel disappears into the trees again, and when he comes back this time, he’s hauling a fallen Christmas tree. He drops it and runs back up the track, disappearing from sight and returning minutes later with a bow saw from the barn. I try not to watch as he starts sawing through the trunk of the fallen tree, separating it from the clump of roots and earth at its base. He looks between the ground, the trees, and the river, and seems to make a judgement before he rolls the trunk of the fallen tree into position.

I can’t pretend I’m not looking. ‘What are you doing?’

His wet hair flies around his shoulders as he turns to look at me like he genuinely didn’t realise I was watching. ‘Using the casualties to protect the others. These are already lost to the storm. The best thing we can do with them is build them up as a dam to save the rest.’