No more pretence now, just the two of them seeking refuge in the only place it existed.

‘It’s all right,’ he murmured against her hair. ‘I’m here. It’s going to be all right.’

And now she could believe it, simply because he said it. It made no sense, and yet it made every sense.

‘Now,’ he said with an attempt at cheerfulness, ‘let’s concentrate on what’s urgent-getting settled, keeping warm, finding something to eat.’

‘Right,’ she agreed, knowing that there was nothing to do but follow his lead.

The darkness was total. Night had fallen outside, and no moonlight could reach them through the snow piled at the windows. Only the rooms directly over the abyss were moonlit, and they avoided them.

There was no heating and none of the lights worked, but luckily Renzo’s torch still functioned and by its beam they managed to explore a little. There was a bathroom, with water still on tap from a tank outside, and finally the kitchen. There they found bottles of water and some glasses.

‘And canned food,’ Renzo observed. ‘Thank goodness they didn’t have time to remove this. We won’t starve, although the cuisine may be a rather weird mixture.’

Still using the torch, they groped around to find a table and two chairs.

‘I don’t know what this is,’ Renzo said, opening a can. ‘Cross your fingers.’

Using this principle they created a make-shift meal consisting of custard and fruit pieces, washed down by bottled water. As they ate he talked, reassuring her, trying to make this sound like a normal day, until at last she whispered, ‘Don’t. Please don’t.’

‘All right,’ he said. ‘We ought to get some rest anyway. We’ve both had the stuffing knocked out of us.’

She didn’t press him further. There was no knowing how deep was the snow that held them trapped, or how solidly it was frozen. Their chances of survival were poor, and in his heart she guessed he knew this, and suspected that she knew it, as well.