Ignoring the pack, she whispered to Baxter, ‘Go round the back to the side stairs and then to the stationmaster’s office on platform two. Tell Mr Smith I wish to see him.’

‘But Mrs Craig, he will not…’

‘Go, Baxter. At once!’

Baxter shuffled away and headed round the back. Ann stood up straight and surveyed the crowd. She was used to being taller than most women but now she seemed to dominate everyone before her; the crowd was stooped, heads bowed as they huddled for shelter from the storm.

After what seemed an interminable time, Baxter appeared and whispered to her to follow. She set off behind him, head held high, pulling at her skirt which had become trapped under someone’s walking stick. She turned to check the crowds were not following then hurried down the side steps towards platform two and stationmaster Alec Smith’s office. At the foot she came to an abrupt stop as she noticed a glint at her feet: broken glass. She looked up and noticed that part of the glass roof had shattered. She lifted her skirt a little and continued, stepping with caution towards the office as Baxter swung the door wide for her to enter. Here was a strange sight. Two railway men, dishevelled and windswept, were staring silently at the inert telegraph machine as if willing it to stutter into life. A third man sat at the desk, his head in his hands, snivelling like a child.

‘Mr Smith, what news is there?’

He sprang to his feet, wiping his forearm across his flushed face. ‘Mrs Craig, I’m sorry you were barred from entry. I had to take the decision to close the station. I am unsure the rest of the roof will hold.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’ve just been out to the signal box – there’s been no signal from the south box since the train left, only a few minutes late. Together with my engine-shed man I tried to get along the tracks, but the wind was too strong.’ He turned towards the men by the telegraph machine. ‘Jimmy, tell the lady what you saw.’

One of the men swivelled round and whipped off his cap. ‘Nothing, nothing but broken ends of the rails pointing down into the river.’

‘Mrs Craig,’ said Alec, now more composed. ‘I must go and speak to the provost. The bridge is down and the train with it.’ He turned to grab his coat from a hook on the wall then nodded as he passed her with the two men.

‘But, Mr Smith, can nothing be done? Surely a boat can be sent out? Passengers must be rescued?’

The stationmaster ushered Ann out and locked the door. ‘On a night like this, there’s nothing to be done. I fear they are all at the bottom of the Tay.’