I hurried JA out of our shared bed in the big terraced house in Manchester.
‘Quick!’ I cried, ‘The water has reached the third floor. We need to get dressed and climb into the attic with everyone else, or risk drowning’.
I scrambled around, grabbed the nearest clothes, and pulled them on. Then I ran to the bathroom and – with difficulty – climbed up the tiled wall clinging to fixtures and fittings and bits of the cistern to reach the gap in the ceiling, and safety.