Terry insisted that we should now make a fireplace.

‘We can’t work if we aren’t properly fed,’ she asserted, ‘and I can’t make decent meals unless I have a fireplace.’

We knew that peats would burn quite well on a flat stone hearth. I had seen Highland houses in which the fireplace was simply a stone dais in the centre of the floor with a hole in the roof above it to let out some of the smoke. We could have built a similar hearth under the chimney with great ease, for it required no more than one or two broad flat stones.

‘It would have the advantage that our fire would never go out, even overnight, if we damped it down in the evening. That would save matches,’ I told Terry.

Terry was not enthusiastic for a peat-hearth. She argued that such a fire was smoky even in houses with proper chimneys; we could not expect our tiny chimney to draw unless our fire was brisk. Moreover, peats left a very fine ash. If we had a fireplace with a well under the grate the ashes, falling down, were less liable to be sent through the cave by backing winds, and they could be collected and taken out of doors without disturbing the fire or making a mess. She concluded by telling me that she could not possibly cook on a flat hearth. We decided to make a simple fireplace consisting of an iron cradle flanked by two broad stone cheeks upon which pots could simmer and our kindlings dry.