Ellie had almost forgotten she was still gripping both the shotgun and the flare. “Right. Go on.”

By now she, Phil and Kate were coughing badly, and could barely see for the smoke. The loft floor was hot underfoot; the lagging had started smouldering. Ellie squeezed Phil’s arm; he breathed out and forced a smile. Kate stared upwards at the gap, face almost serenely calm in between coughing fits.

Overhead, Ernie handed the shotgun back to Madeleine so he’d have both hands free. “Phil?” said Ellie. “Go.”

Phil obeyed, grunting and mumbling “Oh shit, oh shit,” as he went. Ellie turned to Kate. “All right, love?” Kate coughed, almost delicately, then. “Off you go, then.”

Ellie steadied the ladder for her, smoke streaming out through the hole in the roof above. The flare cast its livid glow across the loft’s interior, but now so did the dull orange light of the fire. The thick smoke glowed dully, and Ellie couldn’t breathe properly. She put a foot on the rungs. She had to move now, wherever Kate was; she wouldn’t last another half-minute.

Ellie shut her eyes and climbed, till finally her head emerged from the gap; she leant out to the side, clear of the smoke, and gulped the cold night air.

“Ellie! Come on. There’s no time.”

Ernie was right. She could hear things cracking below. Ellie dropped the flare into the loft and pushed her torso up through the hole, clutching the roof-slates and central beam. Ernie gripped her upper arms and steadied her, then helped her climb the rest of the way out. “Everybody just keep going backwards,” he called. “I’ll tell you if anything’s in the way.”

As they cleared the surgery roof, timbers cracked and gave way, sending a column of flames and sparks shooting up into the sky.

Straddling the roof-ridge, they dragged themselves along: the slates were too slippery with ice and snow for anything else. There was no way around the chimney pots except to grip the stonework in a clumsy embrace, like an unwilling dancing partner, and shuffle round until you resumed your former position on the other side. They went slowly; better that way.

Ellie didn’t dare look left or right yet. She didn’t want to see what was waiting at ground level. Or what had become of her village. She could still smell smoke, but couldn’t tell if it was from the fire or her own clothes and hair.

“We’ll stop at the next roof,” called Ernie. “Catch our breath. Watch for the drop behind you.”