A Declaration of Independence

We thought the wind was going to blow the house down. The walls shook and the rain smashed against the windows. Every now and again there was a terrible racket as something came loose or got overturned and blown down the lane. The wind roared down the chimney and the sea was so loud it was as if we were in the middle of it. No way could either of us sleep, so we came down and sat either side of the fire. The lights kept stuttering on and off, finally going out completely. We were left sitting in nothing but the light of the flames flickering in the hearth.

Around three a.m. it all died down, though it was still windy and raining heavily. I think we both fell asleep around then, Toby sprawled on the settee under his fur coat, me, curled up in the armchair in the shapeless track-suit I'd hurriedly pulled on over my night-dress. It was light when we woke up. I went to put the kettle on, but found the electricity was still off. Anxious to know what damage had been done, we both made our way outside.

We'd got off surprisingly lightly. It's amazing how much noise a few loose dustbins can make on a windy night. The slates on the roof were intact, as far as we could see, and nothing else seemed out of place – unless you counted the sea. We lived on a low promontory that stuck out into the North Sea. Between us and the main body of the land had been a region of lower, marshy ground. It had never been of much practical use – it was visited by the occasional bird-watcher – and had some sort of protected status on account of an unusual beetle that lived there. Now it was of no use at all, even to the beetle: the storm had washed it away completely. Overnight, we'd become an island.

Toby's first response was to laugh.

“What are you so happy about?” I said.

“We're cut off!” he said. He sounded delighted.

 I can't say I shared his enthusiasm. I was worried. How were we going to get our groceries? We had a rowing boat, assuming, after the shenanigans of the night just gone, it was still where we'd left it. We could manage at a pinch. The trouble was, knowing Toby, I'd most likely be the one doing the managing. I had visions of myself rowing through choppy water, up to my knees in Co-op carrier bags. And then there was the question of who was going to empty the dustbins that had blown off down the road?

“Don't you see?” He said. “We're independent! A new nation!”

I tutted, rolled my eyes, and went back into the house. Sometimes, there was no talking to Toby. As if on cue, with a click, the electricity came back on. Something, somewhere started humming again, a faint background noise one was not aware most of the time.