‘Well, we have to phone someone,’ Alexa said, testily, glancing at Ben. ‘Before Ellen’s battery runs out. And we can’t just sit here, stuck in an attic –’

‘While the ground floor fills with water.’ Ellen felt responsible for the flood, as she’d had the misfortune to discover it. Not to mention her bedroom was on the same floor as the kitchen. She wondered how long it would take the water to reach her room. She wished she hadn’t left her laptop on the floor.

‘So, come on, who else can we call?’ Alexa asked urgently. She sat hunched, holding on to her knees with her left arm, while she chewed the skin on the knuckles of her right hand.

‘What about Soph?’ Ellen said, suddenly, her voice higher than she’d expected it to be. ‘She’s not that far away. Plus she’d probably quite enjoy breaking a window –’

‘She’s in Dorset this weekend, for Renée’s mum’s sixtieth,’ Alexa interrupted, grimly.

Ellen made a face. At university she’d never have imagined Sophie becoming the sort of person who attended her girlfriend’s mother’s sixtieth birthday. She had once dropped a lit cigarette into the bin in her room in halls and started a small fire that woke the entire building at 3 a.m. in the depths of exam term.

‘We could try … the police?’ Jack asked, seeking confirmation. None was forthcoming. ‘Or would it be the fire brigade?’ Ellen noticed his hairy toes poking out of the cuffs of his navy tracksuit bottoms. As if he’d read her mind, he curled them self-consciously.

‘It might be a little bit mad to call 999 over this,’ Ben pointed out, gently. ‘I mean, they probably have more pressing things to do.’

‘This is true,’ Ellen agreed, begrudgingly. ‘But firemen do things like get cats out of trees.’

‘I don’t think they actually do get cats out of trees,’ Alexa observed.

‘They got my cousin’s head out of the railings when she got it stuck,’ Jack said, quietly.

‘I don’t think we should call the emergency services over this,’ Alexa said, finally. ‘Not yet, anyway. It feels a little hysterical.’ Ellen could see a vein pulsing in her forehead.

‘I agree,’ said Ben. He crouched down slightly to reach clumsily for Alexa’s shoulder. She almost smiled, but the result was rather pained.

Ellen could see Jack concentrating on them both, his mouth slightly open. ‘Locksmith!’ she said, suddenly. ‘Let’s call a locksmith.’

‘Yes,’ Alexa said, urgently. ‘Great idea. Google one now.’

Ellen opened her phone again. It had adjusted automatically to preserve what little energy it had left, and the screen was gloomy. As Ellen adjusted the brightness, it went black. Her stomach plummeted. ‘Fuck.’

‘What?’ Alexa said, sharply.

Ellen held it up, her face grim. ‘Dead.’