Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
Two a.m. Rita’s eyes snapped open. Something was wrong.
The doorbell was ringing and there was an acrid sting of smoke clawing at her throat.
She coughed violently, gagging, as she scrambled out of bed, screaming for Thom and Sennen as she did so.
Flinging her window open, she quickly shut it again.
The smoke alarm on her landing started to shriek its warning.
But she’d seen enough: the Cosy Café was on fire!
She ran downstairs and pulled open the front door. ‘Rita! Oh my God!’ Zenya’s voice cut through the haze as she stumbled in through the door. ‘I’ve called the fire brigade and Teo is on his way up with Jude.’
‘Fire extinguishers, get hoses from the old tack room…’ Rita demanded. ‘Shit!’
‘Don’t you do anything, Rita,’ Zenya instructed. ‘Leave it to us.’
Flames licked the edges of the barn door, orange and hungry, twisting into the night sky.
‘Not the barn!’ Rita shouted, the heat hitting her like a wall as she stumbled toward it. Then animal instinct took over. She had to move away, had to get her and her precious cargo to safety.
In a blind panic, Rita bolted back from the barn door, the heat roaring in her face. She didn’t see the discarded bucket until it caught her foot. She stumbled violently, arms flailing, and pitched head first towards the marquee structure of the café.
‘Oh my God, no, Rita!’ Poppy’s voice screeched through the crackling inferno.
She lunged just in time, catching Rita by the shoulders and twisting her body away from the fire.
Rita’s knees buckled, and she fell hard, scraping her hands and knees on the packed earth.
Poppy dropped beside her. ‘Are you hurt?’
A searing pain ran through Rita’s foot. ‘My ankle.’
‘Can you walk?’ Poppy lifted Rita gently.
‘No.’ Rita started to cry.
‘Keep the bad leg off the floor if you can,’ Poppy demanded, ushering Rita as gently as she could away from immediate danger. ‘We’re OK here,’ Poppy soothed, taking off her cardigan, and rolling it up to for Rita to rest her head on.
‘I’ve got you,’ Poppy panted. ‘Breathe, Rita. Breathe. I can hear the sirens. You’re safe now.’
Rita’s chest heaved, smoke stinging her eyes. Poppy held her tighter, steadying her trembling body.
‘Stan!’ Rita gasped, as the old farm hand appeared with a fire extinguisher in hand.
‘Mrs Jory, oh no.’ He crouched to her side.
‘I’m fine, Stan, just save the barn, please, please. We can’t lose the barn.’
‘Ring an ambulance too, young’un,’ Stan shouted to Poppy as he ran towards the flames, not realising that two had already been called. Thom, Sennen, Teo, and Jude were fighting the fire with the little resources they had, their faces red and sweating.
Amid the chaos, Jago screeched up in his Defender. Going straight to where the fire was, he shouted to Thom, ‘Where’s your mother?’
‘I don’t know.’ Thom’s voice was full of panic.
‘She’s being looked after,’ Stan hollered.
Through the choking smoke, a movement caught Jago’s eye. His heart lurched; someone was wobbling inside the café, disoriented.
‘Hilda!’ Jago shouted, panic lacing his voice on recognising her. Relief hit him as three fire engines arrived, firefighters began spilling out and began in seconds to do the job they do so well.
Jago sprinted across the smoke-choked marquee, dodging sparks, and embers. The old lady teetered near a fallen chair, one hand bracing against the counter.
‘No!’ she wheezed weakly. ‘I’m old, leave me! Find Rita! She… needs you more than me… she’s pregnant!’
At that moment, Hilda collapsed. Jago tried to help her, his mind reeling.
A burly firefighter intervened. ‘I’ve got this, mate, and get your arse out of here, now!
’ The firefighter lifted Hilda like a feather outside to one of the waiting ambulances.
Poppy was instantly at Hilda’s side as the paramedics got her swiftly onto the stretcher.
‘You’re going to be all right,’ Poppy said softly. ‘I haven’t told a soul this yet, but… I’m training to be a nurse, you know.’
Hilda’s eyes fluttered at that. A trembling hand reached up, tugging weakly at her oxygen mask. Poppy leaned closer, easing it away just enough.
‘I saw them,’ Hilda whispered, her voice thin but urgent. ‘I saw them.’
Poppy stilled. ‘Saw who, Hilda?’
‘The same one,’ she breathed, her fingers clutching at the blanket. ‘The one I told Rita about. She was here.’
Her eyes rolled, the strength draining from her face, and she slumped back onto the stretcher as Poppy quickly replaced the mask.
Through the smoke and bodies and still not being able to find Rita, Jago ran around outside in a fit of panic. ‘Rita, Rita, where the hell are you? Rita.’ The more he called her name, the more desperate he felt. Where was she? And could what Hilda had said really be true?
Villagers were now arriving in droves, Betty and her husband, Pete the Pilchard, Jilly, and Joel. All wanting to do their bit, help a friend and neighbour in need. Zenya was guiding the firefighters and the other ambulance that had followed in their slipstream.
Rita stayed where she was, coughing violently, vision blurred, her hands both resting on her stomach.
She cried out as another sickening streak of pain tore through her ankle.
The fire roared, consuming hay and equipment in its path.
The group moved as one, a frantic, coordinated effort to pull everything away from the barn.
Flames spat embers into the night air, their glow painting the world in flickering golds and reds.
The heat pressed against Rita’s skin, relentless, and the smoke curled into her throat, sharp and choking.
Rita lay frozen, coughing, and then all of a sudden, strong arms wrapped around her and lifted her off the ground.
‘Jago.’ Relief trembled through her voice.
‘You’re… pregnant?’ His words were a rush of disbelief, relief, and love, all tangled together.
‘Yes…’ she managed, a tiny, shaky laugh which escalated into a bout of coughing. He held her close, rocking her gently, his own eyes glistening with tears. Her heart hammered so fiercely she thought he might feel it against his chest.
He looked up to see two paramedics rushing over to her. Jago’s gaze swept over her face, taking in every smudge, every fleck of ash, the way her hair clung to her forehead. Then a crooked, incredulous smile tugged at his lips. ‘Why didn’t you tell me…?’
Rita laughed softly again, smoky, and raw, letting herself melt into the safety of his arms. ‘You’ve been kind of busy.’
‘She’s pregnant,’ Jago announced, rising to meet the calm, reassuring expressions of the emergency crew.
‘She’s in good hands,’ the female paramedic assured him as she guided him towards an ambulance and he put her down on the bed inside it.
Jago had tears in his eyes. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’
Rita shook her head, resolute. ‘I’d rather you stayed and looked out for everyone… the farmhouse, the animals… I’ll be fine.’
‘But… I want to.’
‘No, Jago, please… stay here.’