This is the full version of last week’s tiny tale which accidentally turned into a mini serial.

Flora and Jim loved their new riverside cottage and could not believe their luck getting such an ideal spot in their price range. Even the name was quaint, Little Nile. Jim joked that it was just as well it had not been named Little Amazon.

‘People would think we were living in a warehouse!’

The little river that trickled past their tiny garden was actually called ‘The Seven’, not to be confused with The Severn, the longest river in Great Britain.

As they sat in the cosy sitting room enjoying a leisurely Sunday morning Flora sighed with delight

‘…and we did not even have to do any work on it. All newly decorated.’

‘Hmm, I don’t think I could live with that dreadful wallpaper for long’ replied Jim.

‘But it would be a waste to rip it off.’

‘What’s that mark on the wall?’

‘Just part of the pattern.’

‘No, it’s some sort of stain, bigger than yesterday. Perhaps there is a body hidden behind there, it is a very old cottage.’

‘You’re giving me the creeps.’

‘There is a corner peeling off by the ceiling, I could just have a peep…’

To their surprise the paper fell off in one strip revealing writing on the wall.

‘Oh how sweet, a height chart, we could keep that as a feature’ trilled Flora. ‘Five feet ten inches, 2024, some lanky teenager, we don’t know who was last to live here do we, the estate agent didn’t say.’

‘2022, five foot one inch, he must have had a growth spurt.’

‘2019, four foot six inches, a child back then.’

‘2010, four foot 2 inches, must have been very young then, how tall is your nephew?’

‘Doesn’t make sense, in nine years they must have grown more than that, unless that was a different child, pity they did not write their names. We must write their names when we do that with ours.’

‘Our what?’

‘Babies of course.’

‘1995 must have been a baby, two foot one inch, 1980 one foot six inches, must have been the seven dwarves living here, of course, hence the name of the river.’

‘Look down the bottom, can hardly read the writing, 1895, one foot one inch, The Great Flood. What’s that all about, look it up.’

‘I can’t find any great flood for that year and can’t imagine our tiny river flooding, what a hoot.’

‘We certainly would not want a foot of water in here.’

‘No chance after the hot dry summer we’ve had.’

The next day rain lashed the windows of their little cottage, but Flora and Jim did not mind.

‘It’s lovely being all cosy inside. What weather does your phone say Jim?’

‘Still no reception, but I don’t need to look at my phone to see what the weather is.’

‘No weather forecast, but it is rather liberating not having a television. Dad says we can have his old laptop to stream stuff.’

‘Once we’re on the internet. In the meantime we can go exploring and find a spot where we can get reception, just in case of emergency.’

‘I can’t imagine us having any emergencies, except not being able to order pizza!’

‘Come on, walking in the rain will be fun and when we get back I’ll have a go at lighting the fire.’

‘Great idea, but won’t the firewood have got wet in the rain?’

‘I’ll just pull logs out from the bottom of the pile, like Jenga.’

‘Looks like a real river now Flora, don’t get too near the edge, it must be at least two foot deep, ha ha. Let’s see how far along the river this little path goes.’

At Upper Seven Valley police station the late shift were coming on duty.

‘There is an amber alert coming into force at 15.00.’

‘Not like last year surely Sir, not after the dry summer we’ve had.’

‘We’re not taking any chances after what happened last year.’

‘At least the survivors moved out of that cottage down in the valley, can’t imagine they would have managed to sell it.’

‘Well it’s still standing, we hiked that way in the summer.’

‘Why are you playing with your phone Evans?’

‘Just looking it up on Rightmove Sir… Believe it or not it was bought last month, knock down price.’

‘Let’s hope they have been following the weather reports then. Right, we have got other problems to sort out in town, so let’s hope this rain eases off.’

Flora and Jim had reached a high point in the valley and looked down to see just a glimpse of the red roof of their cottage. The rain was even harder, if that was possible. They could hardly see the screens of their phones to check if they had any signal or any text messages.

‘It’s certainly exhilarating up here’ said Jim.

‘And so quiet, we haven’t seen a soul’ Flora struggled to make her voice heard above the wind and rain.

‘No one else is mad enough to come out in this rain. I think we’ll have to try our phones tomorrow when the weather has cleared. Best thing we can do is go back and get that fire lit.’

‘Whaaat, I can’t hear you.’

Jim signed to Flora to head back down the narrow steep track, clinging to her as he nearly slipped. The foot path had turned into a muddy stream, but they were still in good spirits enjoying their adventure. The sound of rushing water guided them back to the river, though it was hard to recognise how far they were from their cottage as they were on a part of the river that had no path beside it. Talking was impossible with the wind and rushing water and they could not see the river properly with the rain driving in their faces. The white shape of the cottage suddenly loomed out of the gloom, nearer to the river than they recalled.

‘Have you got the key Flora?’ Jim yelled.

‘No you put it in your anorak pocket.’

Flora paddled through puddles to grab at the front door in the hope they had forgotten to lock it, then remembered putting the key in her back pack. She could hardly undo the zip with her cold wet hands.

‘Unlock the door while I start fetching the wood.’

Jim slithered round the corner to where logs were stacked against the wall and was disconcerted to see water pouring down the hillside and swirling round the bottom of the wood pile. He thought of the cosy pub in the nearest town where they had enjoyed a hearty meal after first viewing the cottage. The best thing they could do was walk along the river the other way and take the gravel track that led up to the road and the bus stop. Was it quarter to or quarter past the hour that the hourly bus came along? Well they could always hitch hike.

The rain showed no sign of easing up and they were glad to get to the road.

‘Oh that’s funny, wonder why they have barriers across the road?

‘Jim, it will be getting dark soon.’

‘When a car comes along it will have to stop at the barrier and we can ask for a lift.’

At Upper Seven Valley police station the late shift were coordinating with the fire brigade and the Coastguard and RAF. It was turning out to be an even worse evening that with last year’s flood.

‘As far as we know most locals heeded the red weather warnings, they are checking names at the community centre now. We can’t account for any visitors staying or hiking in the area. The coastguard helicopter was only flying for fifteen minutes before it was grounded at 17.00 hours due to dangerous flying conditions. With the poor visibility they could not be certain there were no persons clinging to roofs or needing rescuing. We got the road blocks up early, so there should be no vehicles in the flood area.’

Clarissa was having a wonderful evening. At last, as a volunteer with Seven Valley Community Support, she was getting to do something exciting and useful. With power lines down, the community centre was lit with candles and battery torches. Computers were down and all they had were clipboards and pen and paper. Clarissa was in charge of the list, or registering unhoused arrivals as she put it. Her excitement grew when a young policeman pushed his way through the throng.

‘Has anybody been reported missing yet?’

‘No, all accounted for.’

‘Not so apparently, the station got a frantic call from a mother who said she had not heard from her daughter and she is not answering her mobile. She just moved into that cottage by the river, umm Little Nile?’

‘Oh goodness, surely no one is living there after what happened last year? The name?’

‘Whose name?’

‘The daughter.’

‘Oh yes, of course. Flora Dora.’

‘Are you sure? Obviously not from around here then. Anyone else living there?’

‘Her boyfriend, Jim James.’

Clarissa clapped her hands to gain attention, unsuccessfully. The police officer moved in front of her, glad of the chance to assert his authority and put on his crowd control voice.

‘Urgent, we need to know if we have a Flora Dora and a Jim James here.’

There was no response.

‘They just moved into Little Nile cottage.

There was a collective gasp and urgent mutterings.

‘They’ll be gonners by now.’

‘Yup, cottage submerged completely.’

‘Even if they got out the river will have taken them.’

The policeman moved among them trying to get any useful information.

‘They would have heard the alerts and the red warnings.’

‘Not unless they have registered for Seven Flood Alert or got the app.’

‘Slim chance they might have made it up to the road, but that’s blocked off.’

‘The army,’ called Clarissa ‘my nephew’s out there on a training exercise with the Ukrainians.’

‘Training them?’

‘No, the Ukrainians are training our lot, they can drive tanks in the most awful conditions.’

Flora and Jim had started walking along the road, best case scenario they would meet a vehicle. Worst case scenario they would have to keep walking till they came to a house or the town. Neither of them mentioned the actual Worst Case Scneario, not that they could hear a word they said to each other, nor could they read each other’s expressions. All they could hear or see was the relentless rain. Perhaps it was fortunate they had to keep their thoughts to themselves, cosy the memories of their parents’ boring little suburban houses…

It was so dark now, no street lights, not even any distant lights. There was no distance so they did not see the solid darkness looming out of the general darkness and barely heard the shouts. When they were blinded by a bright beam they had no chance of seeing anything.

‘Are you lost?’

‘Of course they’re lost corporal, not out for an evening stroll and get that torch out of their eyes.’

‘Soldiers’ stammered Flora through chartering teeth ‘are we on the firing range?’

‘No, but you must have a death wish, didn’t you heed the warnings. Names?’

They tried to say their names, but their frozen mouths did not seem to work. The soldiers got close and yelled ‘Are you Flora Dora and Jim James?’

They nodded vigorously.

‘The whole of the British army is out looking for you and half the Ukrainian army to boot.’

At the community centre Clarissa took charge of the new arrivals, she was not going to be upstaged.

‘Priority registration, have they got any rooms left at Premiere Inn, how’s the hot food coming along, we need two survivor kits over here right now, one men’s one ladies’.

She felt just like the United Nations or Medecine Sans Frontieres, though the survivor packs merely contained donated second hand clothes.

Flora and Jim soon became celebrities.

‘A good way to get to know the locals’ laughed Flora, almost restored to her normal self with hot chocolate.

‘And a free night at Premiere Inn hopefully’ added Jim.

‘Well your cottage will still be there, it’s withstood centuries of floods, though they are getting worse.’

‘Yup, it should be dried out by next August‘ added another local.