Chapter 25
Rick held Beth’s wrists as gently as he could. She continued to struggle, her mouth open in a silent scream.
‘Stop fighting me, Beth. Grace isn’t in the shed. She isn’t in there. I promise you. Grace is safe.’ Her terrified eyes locked onto his. The desperation in them tore at his heart. It was as if she couldn’t process what he was saying. He put his mouth right next to her ear, so that she could hear him over the roar of the blaze. ‘Beth. Listen to me. She’s safe. Grace is safe. She’s not in there. She’s safe, I swear to you. She’s at the barn with Paddy. I told her to stay inside and look after him.’
‘She’s safe?’ Her voice was a hoarse croak. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes. I’m sure. Now, can we get on with making everyone else safe?’
She gave a jerky nod. Rick scrambled to his feet, extending a hand to her to pull her up. Shielding her from the intense heat with his body, he steered her away from the angry red-hot inferno that made the skin on his back feel like it was melting.
‘Let’s keep going with buckets,’ he shouted above the crackling. They staggered from the trough to the fire with heavy buckets, getting as close to the wall of heat as they could bear.
Beth gasped, pointing at specs of glowing ember flying into the sky. ‘What about the thatch?’
‘I don’t know. Dampen everything you can. Try to stop it spreading.’ Rick threw water as high as he could against the end wall of the stable nearest to the fire. It hissed as it ran down to the ground.
Sirens cut through the chaos.
‘Oh, thank God,’ said Rose.
Two fire engines steamed up the track, lights flashing. Suddenly, fire crew were everywhere, shouting instructions to each other.
Grateful to hand over to experts, Rick and Beth retreated towards the house and watched in silence. Rose wrapped an arm around Daisy’s shoulders and they huddled together like dazed penguins. One of the fire crew, an older man with a silver goatee, approached. He was so slight in build that his bulky uniform coat looked like it was wearing him rather than the other way around. With careful deliberation, he unfurled a blanket and placed it around Beth’s shoulders.
‘Thank you,’ she mumbled, clutching at it.
Hearing the tremble in her voice, Rick pulled her close, grateful when she didn’t push him away. Instead, she leaned her forehead against his chest. Her arms crept around his waist and clung on tight. In spite of the circumstances, it felt good to be there for her. It had been such a long time since he’d had any meaningful human contact.
A name badge on the lapel of the fire crewman’s jacket said: Brian Trenchard. ‘Are you Barbara’s Brian?’ asked Rick.
Brian pushed his visor back from his face and grinned. ‘The very one, guv.’
‘Thank you for coming.’
He beamed. ‘Wild horses couldn’t have stopped me, not once I heard about this shout. Barbara would make mincemeat of me if I’d not come to check on the kiddies.’
Beth pulled back from Rick’s embrace and, dashing a hand over her eyes, turned to Brian. ‘Thank you. I… Sorry, I…’
Rick brushed at the tears tracking down Beth’s cheek, but only succeeded in smudging more soot across her face.
‘It’s alright, luv,’ said Brian. ‘The worst is over. You’re all okay.’ A fat raindrop splattered onto his helmet. He looked up the darkening sky. ‘You’re in luck. That black up there isn’t all smoke. Looks like that storm front is coming in. You can always rely on the forest to look after its own, you know.’
‘It’s the weather surely, not the forest,’ said Rick.
‘You think that, if you like.’ Brian checked his phone. ‘There’s a month’s worth of rain predicted to fall in the next twelve hours. No lightning expected. And the wind speeds have been downgraded from severe to moderate, so nothing to fan the flames. A good long soaking will dampen down anything that’s still smouldering. Can’t ask for better than that.’
Beth’s heart gave a little bounce of hope in spite of her exhaustion. The dreaded storm, now a welcome ally. Who cares if the roof leaked, as long as it was still a roof.
‘Do you know what started it?’ asked Rick.
Brian puffed out his cheeks. ‘That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? The watch manager, Jo, will be able to give you an idea. Look, over there, the one in the white helmet.’ He pointed to a firefighter poking among the charred remains of the shed. ‘The most common source of fire in the forest is careless tourists; smoking and barbeques and whatnot.’ He gave them an encouraging wink and ambled off towards the fire engines.
Rick felt Beth stiffen and he turned to her, surprised to see her glaring at him. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I told you, smoking is dangerous.’
He tamped down a spike of irritation. She’s had a shock . ‘This wasn’t me, Beth.’
She pulled further away from him. Her face rigid. ‘I should go and check on Grace.’
‘I’ll go. You finish up here with the fire crew, then come and get her and Paddy when you’re ready.’
Beth watched Rick go, confusion burning her belly. Was she a fool to want to believe him? Being in his arms had felt wonderful. Even so, the sensible part of her warned her not to get comfortable there.
The rain was getting heavier and the watch manager was heading over, carrying something blackened and twisted in a heavily gloved hand.
Rose crept over to stand next to Beth. ‘What’s that?’
Beth shook her head. Her eyes zeroed in on the watch manager’s face.
‘Hi, Mrs Hope. I’m Jo Tanner, Duty Watch Manager.’ Jo pulled her helmet off, shook a dark, sweaty fringe from her eyes and smiled, white teeth stark against soot-smudged skin. ‘It’s all under control now. I suggest you keep back for a while. Let things settle. Whatever tool was plugged into this extension unit is the culprit.’ She indicated the strange object in her hand.
A coil of electrical wire. A plug on one end. Some of the cord appeared in reasonable condition, but the remainder was a mess of wires and a bent metal stick surrounded by melted plastic.
It didn’t make sense.
‘We don’t use anything electrical in the shed.’ Beth looked from the item to the remains of the shed. ‘Honestly, it’s just storage; wood for the log burner, fuel cans for the mower, some old paint pots and… well… just stuff.’ She scratched her head. ‘What on earth is it?’
Jo turned it over in her hand. ‘Looks like a soldering iron to me or something similar. Very dangerous to leave unattended.’
‘I’ve never seen one before.’
‘Me neither,’ said Rose.
‘Well, the extension cable ran from a socket in your stable, out through the side window and across the grass to the shed.’ Jo gestured to the smouldering wreckage. ‘And the fact that you had fuel and oil-based liquids like paint in there, plus all those logs, once the fire started, it wasn’t going to stop. If we’d not got here when we did, you’d have lost the stable block, too – very possibly the house.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Beth whispered, voice faint, legs wobbling.
Daisy’s small hesitant voice came from behind Beth. ‘It was me.’
Beth whirled around to face her. ‘What do you mean, it was you?’
‘It was an accident.’ Daisy coughed, her throat sounding raw, and looked at the remains of the shed. Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I was using a pyrography pen,’ replied Daisy.
‘A what?’ said Beth.
‘It’s, like, for burning patterns onto wood. I got it online.’
Jo looked down at the item in her hands with interest. ‘Hmm, pyrography. Yes, I know. Just like a soldering iron. Very hot.’
Beth’s eyes went to the burned plastic mess, then back to Daisy. ‘You almost lost us the house,’ she whispered.
Daisy threw both arms out in defiance. ‘I didn’t do it on purpose, did I?’
Rage engulfed Beth. ‘Oh good. I’m so glad you didn’t do it on purpose. That makes everything alright then, doesn’t it?’
‘No! I was… I … oh…’ Daisy burst into noisy tears. Rose wrapped an arm around her sister and led her away.
Jo’s gaze went from Daisy to Beth. Putting her helmet back on, she patted Beth’s shoulder. ‘Why don’t you go inside where its dry? Get cleaned up. Put the kettle on and maybe have a proper chat with her. We’ll finish up here for you.’ She walked away.
Beth’s head swam, her vision was hazy and disjointed, and sound all woolly and indistinct. She willed herself to move, but her feet might as well have been encased in concrete for all the notice they took. She sank to her knees, her head in her hands. How much more could she take?