Chapter 64
LIZZIE
Mum! I’ve got to get to Mum. The back room is right next to the kitchen, it won’t take long for the smoke to get in there and she’s so weak it will overcome her in no time.
I run over to the door. I can hardly see through the glass because of the smoke.
I need something over my mouth. I reach for the vest top I wore yesterday that I draped over the arm of the sofa, pour the remaining water from the glass I filled last night onto it and tie it around my mouth then open the door into the back room.
I can barely make out Mum but I hear her coughing and make my way in that direction.
‘Lizzie…’ She coughs again ‘What’s happened?’
‘There’s a fire, we’ve got to get out!’ I need to wake George too, if he isn’t already awake, and call the fire brigade but in my rush to save Mum I left my phone in the conservatory. I can’t shout him, my mouth is covered with the wet vest top, I’ll get Mum out then I’ll call him.
‘Lean on me,’ I say as Mum tries to get out of bed.
There isn’t time to put her boot on or grab her walker, I’m going to have to support her.
And she needs something around her mouth to protect her from the smoke.
I whip the pillowcase off while Mum struggles to sit on the end of the bed, use her glass of water to wet it and tie it around her mouth.
It’s not ideal but it’s better than nothing.
Smoke is seeping under the door and billowing into the room. I’m guessing that the fire is in the kitchen. We have to escape through the conservatory. Once Mum is outside I’ll try and get my phone and call for help. And I must wake George somehow.
‘Save yourself, Lizzie. Get out! I’ll slow you down,’ Mum wheezes as I wrap my arm around her waist and lift her out.
‘I’m going nowhere without you.’ I’m standing on the side of her fractured ankle, so that I can take the weight. ‘Lean on me and we’ll soon be out of here.’
Mum puts her arm around my shoulder and we set off.
It’s an arduous process, baby steps, coughing and spluttering, but gradually I help her back into the conservatory.
It’s too full of smoke now to see my phone and I can’t stop to look for it.
Mum is like a dead weight and seems barely conscious.
We inch our way across to the French doors and I open them out into the garden.
Fresh air rushes in. A couple more steps and I can seat Mum on one of the wicker chairs.
She removes the pillowcase from her mouth and starts coughing, huge coughs that wrack her body.
I’m worried about her but I’ve got to wake George and get him to call the fire brigade.
Mum is obviously thinking the same thing. ‘George,’ she croaks.
I haven’t got my phone and I’m not running back into that house, we were lucky to get out of it.
Mum and George’s bedroom is overlooking the back, so I shout George’s name as loud as I can and look around for a stone to throw at the window.
Then suddenly the back door bursts open and George comes out, his face black, his dressing gown untied, brandishing the fire extinguisher.
Mum keeps one on the landing upstairs and one in the kitchen.
Thank goodness! The fire had obviously woken him up and he’d grabbed the fire extinguisher on the way down.
‘Judith! Darling! Are you all right?’ He puts the fire extinguisher down and runs over, kneeling down beside Mum and hugging her.
‘Oh, George!’ She clings onto him, sobbing, and as I watch them I wonder how I could have possibly thought that George was harming my mum. It’s clear that he dotes on her.
‘We need to call the fire brigade,’ I tell him.
‘No need, I’ve managed to put the fire out,’ he replies. ‘Leave them to deal with more urgent cases.’ He stands up. ‘Thank you for getting Judith out. I was so worried about her.’
‘I think she should see a doctor. The smoke could have damaged her lungs.’
‘I’m perfectly all right, Lizzie. There’s no point in us all hanging around in A&E for hours,’ Mum says.
‘I really think you should go and get checked over,’ I tell her. ‘Smoke inhalation can be dangerous.’
‘Seriously, my chest feels fine. Let’s see how I am tomorrow,’ Mum insists.
‘How bad is the kitchen?’ I ask George.
‘I put it out in time to avoid any real damage, thank goodness. Everywhere is black though, we will need to completely redecorate the kitchen and probably the back room too.’
He looks at me and I can see the accusation in his eyes. ‘The hot plate on the cooker hadn’t been turned off and the tea towel fell on it and caught alight. That’s what caused the fire.’
It’s clear what he’s saying. I warmed up the milk to make our hot chocolate and he thinks that I didn’t turn the cooker off. But I did.
Didn’t I?
I start to shake as I think how we could have been killed while we slept. The smoke would have killed us before the flames did.