‘Mum’s got pneumonia. You should come today.’
‘Right,’ Jeff said, ‘right.’ He put the phone down.
‘Pneumonia? Your sister’s a nurse, Jeff. She’s telling you something.’
‘I can’t leave here now!… What’s she telling me, Steph?’
‘Frail, old, in a care home? She’s saying get there before your mum goes.’
‘Christ! How can I…?’
He looked about him helplessly and put down the wet bucket he’d been using to bale out the shop.
/
‘Just a yellow warning, minister. The Met should’ve issued a red or amber.’
‘So we blame the Met Office? But, look, the Met’s website says Storm Bert was well forecast in advance.’
‘If I may clarify, minister. We blame others. Natural Resources Wales, for instance, only issued a flood warning the day before the flood.’
‘Ah! Remiss, would you say?’
‘Very. And the local council…’
‘No no… mustn’t blame them Thompson… same political party as ourselves.’
/
‘My fish and chip shop is ruined. It’ll cost ten thousand to put it back together.’
‘And do you have insurance?’
The callow BBC Wales interviewer, the same narrow-trousered sharp-blue suit and long-pointed shoes as the other fellows in the newsroom, thrust his microphone close to Mr Adams’ mouth as though it were one of his own tempting chips.
‘Nobody in the high street does. We can’t get it, see. Storm Dennis four years ago stopped that.’
‘What’s the damage?’
‘The burner’s copped it. That’s five grand. See the mud. Mind you don’t step in it.’ A pair of neatly polished pointed shoes took careful steps back. ‘The high street’s caked in the stuff. You got smashed windows too, walls, floors. It’ll take me weeks to get back on my feet and…’
‘So, you’re not giving up?’
‘No. If we’re given insurance cover and flood defences.’
‘And who do you think should give this?’
‘The government.’
/
The minister turned off the tv. The government! That fellow had blamed the government, like everybody else.
‘Thompson come in here,’ he roared into the intercom. ‘Your blaming others stunt isn’t working.’
‘That chap’s town is at a confluence of two rivers, minister. What’s he expect? Wales gets masses of rain. Climate change in Wales means warmer, even wetter weather.’
‘So I just say an act of God and some of you will have to lump it?’
‘We discreetly advance a certain inevitability about future climate outcomes.’
(practising) ‘Regrettably, my fellow Welsh citizens, climate change means that protecting some homes from flooding isn’t possible. I can’t say that, Thompson! I’ll lose my seat at the next election!’
/
Tim and Lisa Davies surveyed their ruined bookshop.
‘After Storm Dennis, Lisa, the talk was this was a once in fifty years event.’
‘Do you regret coming here?’
‘We’ve always wanted to run a bookshop. We’ve got some lovely customers.’
‘And the books can be replaced.’
‘Give it another go?’
‘Till the next monsoon.’
‘Or longer.’
‘We’re mad, aren’t we?’
‘Hey, ho, the wind and the rain.’
‘The rain it raineth every day.’
