I LEFT THE office and walked up towards the square, trying my best to stay dry, with the intention of calling into Stoop’s for my umbrella, if that was where I’d left it in my jet-lagged fuzz. Hunched down with my collar up, I collided with Phyllis who was hurrying around the corner, sloshing through the puddles, caring considerably less about staying dry than I was, though still wearing her bucket hat. It was only when we disentangled ourselves that I saw that Liam was with her and they both looked worried.

“Is everything all right?” I hoped the water hadn’t risen any higher in her shop.

The bookseller was breathless. “The river’s burst its banks. They’re evacuating the houses like they did in Buncrana. Have you time to come and help?”

“Of course. Will I bring the car?”

Liam nodded. “Aye, do. I know it’s only a wee thing, but it might be useful to cart stuff up. The Beacon Hall has been opened up for people who can’t get home, so we’re moving everyone in there. There’s heat and light at least. For the moment.”

As I hurried off to the car he called after me, “Just don’t go too close to the river or you’ll get stuck. Park on past the supermarket. We’ll see you down there.”

I ran to the car and drove down the hill. It didn’t take long to see what was happening; as Phyllis said, the river had completely burst its banks. The road was submerged on both sides and the bridge emerged from the flood as if from some large lake. The supermarket car park was awash; curb stones, forced up as if by an earthquake, floated in the murky brown water, and trolleys bobbed about like pleasure boats.

I did as Liam had suggested and parked on higher ground, at what I regarded was a safe distance, and I stuffed my trousers into my boots before getting out of the car: they were wet anyway but I could do without them flapping around my ankles.

And I joined the group heading towards the flood. A pretty terrace of houses faced the river; it was somewhere I’d always thought would be a lovely place to live, but now they were in trouble. The residents had tried to protect themselves; there were sandbags everywhere, but when the river had burst its banks, they hadn’t made a damn bit of difference. Their front gardens were under at least a meter of water, pouring through the letterboxes in some.

In a field to the left, white spots bobbed about like fairy lights at a garden party. I found myself rooted to the spot, trying to work out what they were, until Liam appeared beside me. “They’re cars from the garage.”

I turned. “What?”

“Cars. They’re floating in that field. The lights go on when the alarms go off.”