No Holds Barred (20 page)

As he pulled up his zip, he heard two sounds in quick succession that drove all other thoughts from his head: the crunch and tinkle of breaking glass and a terrified shout from Drew.

‘Dad!'

In an instant, Daniel was across the room and out on to the landing.

‘Drew!'

‘Dad! Quickly!'

Daniel started down the stairs even as Drew began to race up, leaving Taz barking furiously just inside the front door.

‘Go up and lock yourself in,' Daniel said urgently as he passed his son halfway down, but Drew grabbed his arm and wouldn't let go.

‘It's all right. Go on up.'

‘No! Dad! It's on fire! The house is burning!' Drew cried, shaking Daniel's arm, and in the same instant Daniel saw a flickering orange glow in the open doorway of the sitting room.

‘Right. Then we get out. Now!'

He turned Drew round and started down, but before they reached the hall, a river of orange flame seeped under the door and across the tiles, tongues of fire licking up the flowered wallpaper as it reached the edge. With a startled yelp, Taz turned tail and leapt for the stairs just inches ahead of the deadly tide.

‘Petrol!' Daniel gasped. He turned Drew round once more and half threw him back up the stairway. ‘Into your room, quick! Open the window and stand by it.'

As they reached the tiny landing, Daniel dodged into his own bedroom, pausing just long enough to gather up his jacket, the pockets of which held his wallet, mobile phone and car keys. Already the floor felt hot under the bare soles of his feet, and smoke was beginning to seep insidiously through the old boards. Putting the jacket on as he hurried after Drew, he found the landing smoke-filled and was glad to see the dog had followed the boy into the back bedroom. Quickly, he shut the door, gathered a blanket from the bed and stuffed it as hard as he could into the gap along the bottom.

‘They threw them through the windows!' Drew shouted over the growing roar of the blaze. ‘Bottles that just exploded!'

Daniel went across to where the boy could be dimly seen, standing obediently by the window.

‘We have to get out,' he said, raising his voice to be heard. ‘No one will come because no one will know. Get the sheets off your bed, quickly!'

As the boy hurried to do so, Daniel opened the window and leaned out. Fuelled by the petrol, the fire had spread with terrifying speed. Directly below, the window of the kitchen glowed orange, glass as yet intact, but he was grimly aware that it could shatter at any time, sending a whoosh of flame up the side of the building and engulfing anyone who was unlucky enough to be suspended above.

There were, however, no other options, and speed was of the essence. As Drew reappeared at his side, holding out the sheets with shaking hands, he took them and knotted the two together, tugging them savagely to ensure the join would hold.

‘Wrap this round one hand a couple of times and hold it tight with the other hand, too,' he instructed, coughing a little as the acrid fumes began to filter through from below. He lifted Drew on to the window sill and looked into his face, speaking slowly and clearly. ‘I'm going to have to let you down fast. When you touch down, let go and run right to the end of the garden, OK?'

‘OK.' Drew nodded, terror in the tight muscles of his face. ‘What about you?'

‘I'll be right behind you. Now hold tight!'

The floorboards were becoming almost unbearably hot as Daniel lifted his precious cargo over the sill and paid out the length of material as fast and smoothly as was possible. From the rooms below, he could hear the staccato pops and bangs of mini explosions as the fabric of the house succumbed to the blaze.

Down the boy went, spinning a little and bumping against the brickwork. Daniel stopped. He couldn't afford for Drew to swing towards the window with the orange squares of glass an incendiary about to go off. Readjusting his position, he leaned out as far as he could, the window catch pressing painfully into his midriff, and let the sheets run through his fingers.

Moments later, the cotton rope went slack as Drew dropped to the ground, staggered and then, freeing his hand, turned and ran away from the burning building as fast as he could.

The relief was so great that for a moment Daniel almost forgot that there was still himself and Taz to save, but a sharp crack as the kitchen window succumbed to the heat brought him instantly to his senses, and he reeled back from the upstairs window as the first furious rush of flames surged upwards, engulfing the length of cotton sheet. Hastily unwinding it from about his own hand, Daniel let the burning material fall to the ground, knowing as he did so that he had lost his lifeline.

Daniel turned round to find Taz beside him, standing up at the window, panting and whining. The rush, roar and popping of the flames tearing through the doomed cottage was deafening and the air was heavy with smoke.

There could only be seconds to spare. They would have to jump, but he wanted something to break their fall.

Daniel's fingers found his pocket-sized LED torch in his jacket, switched it on and shone it briefly round the room. Visibility was extremely poor but he could see enough to judge the positions of the twin beds. Mattresses. They might make the difference between bruises and broken bones.

Flashing the beam in the direction of the door, he saw the cream paint blistering and running, the whole thing blackening around the edges. Praying that the floorboards weren't about to crumble from under him, he took a lungful of air from the open window and then, in two quick strides, ran to the beds, snatched the mattresses and dragged them back, trailing bedclothes.

The mattresses were too wide to fit through the tiny cottage windows and resisted his efforts to bend them.

‘Come
on
, for fuck's sake!' Daniel groaned, struggling with the unwieldy things. At last he managed to fold them just enough to push them, one after the other, through the frame and drop them to the ground below.

Telling the frantic dog to wait, he leaned out to see where they had landed. The downstairs window was no longer belching flame, just a billowing plume of black spark-filled smoke, but, with a sinking heart, Daniel saw that one mattress had fallen some feet away from the wall and the other had come to rest on its end, leaning against the brickwork.

‘Shit!'

There was no plan B. Taz was dancing beside him, his feet no doubt as uncomfortably hot as his own were. Daniel folded the bedspread that was trailing over the window sill, looped it under the dog's belly and chest and lifted him into the opening.

‘Sorry mate,' he gasped, choking in earnest now as the fumes threatened to overwhelm him, and lowered the dog to the full extent of his arms, grateful that the dog's helicopter winch training was keeping him calm.

It wasn't until the moment of release that he realized the two mattresses were now perfectly positioned at the foot of the wall, one atop the other. Sending thanks for a son with courage and initiative, he watched the German shepherd drop the last six feet or so and bounce harmlessly on the improvised landing mat before regaining his feet and jumping to the ground.

Swinging his own legs over the sill, he sat for a moment, perched on the wooden frame, heart pounding and a familiar panic freezing his limbs.

The skin on his back felt as though it was already blistering and burning, but even so he hesitated.

The pale rectangle of the mattresses waited below.

If the dog could do it  . . .

‘Come on, you stupid bastard!' he told himself angrily.

Suddenly, behind him, there was a whoosh as the bedroom door finally failed, a glance over his shoulder showing him a tide of rolling orange flame curling at high speed across the ceiling.

Better jump than burn!
The words echoed in his head as he launched himself from the window sill. There was a brief rush and whistle of air past his ears and almost at once he hit the cushioning bulk of the mattresses and the hard ground beneath, rattling his bones and driving the air from his lungs.

All at once, Taz was all over him, licking his face in an ecstasy of joy, and he had to push the dog out of the way in order to roll off the mattresses and scramble clear of the danger zone.

As Daniel got to his feet, he was taken by a fit of coughing and bent double, feeling as though the fire was actually burning in his lungs.

Immediately, Drew was there, frightened eyes reflecting the glow of the fire. ‘Dad? Are you OK?'

‘I will be – thanks to you,' Daniel croaked, eyes watering. He took the boy's arm and hurried him further away from the cottage. Then, together, they turned and gazed at the furnace it had become, the fierce orange glow showing through every chink. Smoke was pouring thickly from all over the roof, and tiles began to come free and slide down the slope of the roof in cascades, tinkling like demented wind chimes and shattering on the baked earth below.

Even as they stood there in the first thrall of horrified fascination, part of the roof fell in, leaving a skeleton of burning rafters outlined against the sky. Drew jumped, clinging more tightly to his father's arm, and Daniel could feel the boy trembling. He folded him into an embrace.

‘That was my bedroom,' Drew said through chattering teeth. ‘We were in there just a minute ago!'

‘I know, but don't think about it. We're safe now.' Easy enough to say, but he himself was deeply shocked by how close to tragedy they had come.

Still coughing spasmodically, Daniel took his mobile from his pocket and keyed in 999. His own network was useless here, but the emergency number would try all available networks in an attempt to find a signal.

There was none.

A shower of sparks tore upwards through the smoke as the chimney and another section of the roof collapsed, some of the burning debris sliding down the remaining tiles to land in the garden. Even from where they stood, they could feel the intense heat tightening their skin, and the trees all around the garden boundary were bathed in an orange glow. On the cottage, only the row of ornamental ridge tiles remained, outlined against the flames.

‘What about your car?' Drew asked suddenly, looking up at his father. ‘Will it be all right?'

Daniel stifled an oath. ‘I don't know. I've got the keys. Let's see if we can get round the front.'

They made it, by dint of forcing a way through the side hedge and making their way through the wood to reach the lane. Once there, Daniel could see that his car was as yet undamaged. It was out of the range of the falling tiles, and what wind there was had blown the flames the other way.

He judged it was fairly safe to retrieve it and, telling Drew to stay put, ran forward, operating the remote locking system as he did so. The car's bodywork felt warm on the side furthest from the house but not overly so. The inside was like an oven, and the leather seats and the steering wheel were hot to the touch, but thankfully the trusty engine started first time, and, putting it in gear, he drove it to safety some fifty feet up the lane. He supposed the smart thing to do would be to drive on until he picked up a mobile signal, but he'd have to take Drew and the dog with him.

As soon as he opened the car door, he was met by Taz who'd been running in its wake. Drew wasn't far behind, breathlessly calling.

‘Dad! Dad! Listen!'

‘What is it?'

‘Sirens – listen!'

Sure enough, over the spit, roar and crackle of the conflagration, the urgent double note of an approaching fire engine could be heard. Even supposing someone had spotted the glow of the fire almost straight away, they had been extremely quick. It was a shame the cottage was already beyond saving.

Blue flashing lights hove into view between the trees, and within moments two units had drawn up in front of the burning building. Uniformed men spilled out in all directions and went to work deploying their hoses, whilst one spotted Daniel and the boy and strode towards them.

‘D'you know if there's anyone inside?' he shouted.

‘No. It was just us,' Daniel replied, indicating the three of them, and the man raised a hand, turned on his heel and went back to the others, the bright fluorescent strips on his sandy-brown uniform appearing to dance independently in the light from the vehicle.

‘Can we go back and watch?' Drew asked.

‘I expect so, but we mustn't get in the way. Stay close to me, OK?'

They moved closer. There was no novelty in the spectacle for Daniel, who had attended many fires during his time on the force, but for Drew, who watched all the activity with round eyes, gripping his father's hand tightly, it clearly held a scary magnetism. He was shaking with a mixture of fear and excitement, but Daniel suspected that wild horses wouldn't have dragged him away.

The firefighters went about their business with brisk efficiency, and soon two jets of water were cascading through the roof cavity of the doomed cottage, causing the smoke to turn thick and grey, before it was gradually replaced with hissing steam.

When it was clear that the battle was a fair way to being won, the officer in charge came over to talk to Daniel.

‘You the owner, sir?'

‘No. It's owned by Mrs Summers of Maidstone Farm. We were staying here.' As soon as Daniel started to speak, he began to cough again.

‘Are you all right?'

He nodded. ‘I will be.'

‘There's an ambulance on the way. They'll check you over,' he said. ‘Do you have any idea how this started?'

‘According to my son, someone drove by and lobbed a couple of petrol bombs through the downstairs windows.'

The officer looked down at Drew, who looked somehow smaller and younger than normal in the odd mixture of pyjamas trousers, a jumper and training shoes.

‘It's rather late for a youngster to be up, isn't it?'

‘I was listening to owls,' Drew answered, as if that were the most natural thing in the world for a nine-year-old to be doing in the early hours of the morning.