It is a great delight for me to have this opportunity, more than one year on, to reflect on what happened in the Ribble valley during the floods, to reflect on what progress has been made in terms of resilience, protection and prevention, and, indeed, to thank some of the people who, beyond the call of duty, came to help those who were in distress.
I remember that on Boxing day in 2015, I was at my sister’s house in Pontarddulais. Very early in the morning, I received a text message from a friend of mine, Robert Hayward, who has since been elevated to the House of Lords. He asked, “What’s happening in your constituency?” I sent him a text saying, “What do you mean?” He replied, “Floods.” There had been a flood in the Ribble valley just over a week earlier, so I thought that perhaps some footage was being shown of what had happened then. I did not think too much of it, but I went and switched on the television.
Sky News was being broadcast live from Whalley, one of my villages. The reporter was several feet underwater. I watched live footage of one of my constituents, an elderly lady, being carried from a small cottage—manhandled out of her property—to be taken to a safe place further up the road that the floods had not quite reached. My eyes were wide open, and I was aghast to see the condition of the main street through Whalley, but I had not realised that the flooding was much more extensive than that.
I called to my sister, “I’m going.” It was Boxing day, and I was due to stay for about four days, so she said, “What do you mean, you’re going?” I said, “I’m going to the Ribble valley.” She asked why, and I said, “Well, have a look at the TV and I think you’ll understand why.” She asked, “What can you do?” That was a great question, to be honest, but it was about being there. That was the answer: I had to be there. There was no other place where I could be on that day.
I got into the car and drove for four-and-a-bit hours towards the Ribble valley. Coming off the M6, I would normally turn right, immediately towards Whalley, but I could not do that because the main road to the right off the motorway junction was flooded. I had to turn around and then use my local knowledge to work out another route through Preston, which was quite extensive.
First I dropped into Longridge, where there was an emergency centre in one of the village halls. I spoke to four people there. Nobody had reported there, because it is several miles away from Whalley, and I think it was just too far away. People were making their own arrangements, with some going to the Clitheroe golf club. The local school had said that it was available to take anybody, and of course neighbours were coming to the assistance of those in distress.
When I drove into Ribchester, an area that gets flooded from time to time, I went to have a look at the River Ribble from not far from my local church, St Wilfrid’s. That is an extensive area. I have to say that my mouth dropped open, as I had never, ever seen that river so high. If it had risen just another few inches, it would
have broken its banks into the main street in Ribchester. When I talked to one of the local residents, he said, “I was waiting for it to go one step further before I started moving my furniture and possessions from the bottom to the top floor.”
I then went on to the Ribchester Arms pub. As it was Boxing day, it was ready to take in all the bookings it had for that day, but of course it could not open at all because it was completely flooded. The landlord and landlady were on the top floor. The firemen were already there, pumping water away from one electrical substation to make sure that it was still operational, so there were still lights on at the top of the pub. That pub was closed for several weeks. One thinks of the on-costs to that pub of keeping on the labour and so forth, never mind the colossal cost of the waste of all the food, the equipment that was damaged and the loss of trade during that period.