coats, heaped on too few hooks. Plenty to catch alight.
“Daddy, what’s wrong?”
I’ve seen fires like this before. Fires fed by lighter fuel, with petrol cans, by grease-soaked rags. I’ve watched cars burn out till only the carcass is left, stark against the ground like the bones of a vast animal, the meat picked off by carrion. I’ve watched tower blocks burn stubbornly despite the hoses turned on them, and I’ve stood in the mortuary after an arson attack, my eyes fixed on the body of a child trapped on the top floor a minute too long. I don’t need to see it to know what’s happening.
I choose my words carefully. “I think there’s a fire upstairs.” I think. As though there’s some doubt. A fire. Like the one in the sitting room, with its glowing metal coals, or our campfire pit, built for marshmallows. A little fire, that’s all. Nothing to worry about. Upstairs. A whole staircase away.
I hear the insistent beep beep beep of the smoke alarm and think of Mina standing on a chair, wooden spoon in hand to reset the switch. Burned the bloody toast again. At least we know they work.
“We have to go!” Sophia tugs at my sleeve.
“Yes.” The disconnect between my words and my thoughts is so great, it could be someone else speaking. I have to stay calm. I have to. For Sophia’s sake, and because if I don’t stay calm, how will we ever get out?
The fire will travel upstairs. Flames licking at the carpet, first one step, then the next, and the next. Chasing along the banister and around the doorframes. Splicing itself into pieces, each snaking into an empty room, only to swell and fill the space with searing heat that blackens the paintwork and sets the curtains ablaze. Dividing and conquering.
“Daddy!”
The crackle is a roar. The secondhand sofa, the cushions Mina piles on the floor to lean against when she’s watching TV. Boxes of Lego, melting into one brightly colored mass. The kitchen table, the chairs, the family calendar with a column for each of us.
“Daddy!” Sophia grabs my face with both hands, and I jerk as though I’ve been slapped. We have to get out of here.
It won’t be the fire that kills us but the smoke. Already I can see a wisp of it drifting beneath the door. Right now, it’ll be rising to the ceiling; for a time, it will still be possible to crawl through the kitchen with your face low to the ground, but soon there will be more smoke than air, and that’s when it will find its way into the cellar.
“I’m going to get you out,” I tell her.
“What about you?”
“Then you’ll get help, and they can come and get me out,” I say it with more confidence than I feel.
Sophia takes a deep breath. “I’ll knock on Aunty Mo’s door. She’ll call nine nine nine, and the fire engines will come and—”
“No,” I cut in, trying to think of another option. I picture Sophia, banging on the door while Mo sleeps and our houses burn.
“Do you think it’s too isolated?” Mina had said when the estate agent sent us the details of this place.
“It’s peaceful,” I’d replied. “No neighbors, but we can still walk to the pub.”
Now, I look at my terrified daughter. “You know where the police station is, right?”
“No, I don’t—”
There’s a crash from upstairs. “You do!” Sophia flinches, and I say it again, softer this time. “You do, sweetheart. You know where it is. The bookshop, then the empty shop, then the estate agent where they sell the houses. The butcher’s, then Sainsbury’s…” I let the last syllable rise, passing the chorus to Sophia.
“Then the shoe shop, then the fruit and veg shop.” She sounds uncertain, and I rush to reassure her.
“Good girl! And after that, the police station. There won’t be anyone working there at this time of night, but outside the door is a yellow phone. All you need to do is pick it up—you don’t even need to dial a number. Tell them there’s a fire in your house. What’s our address?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“You do.” I make myself stay calm. I can taste the smoke now, bitter on my tongue. “Number two…”
“Farm Cottages.”
“Good girl. What’s the town?”
“Hardlington.”
“Say the whole thing.”
“Number two, Farm Cottages, Hardlington.”
“And again.”
She repeats it, more confidently now. If she panics, if she forgets, they’ll send a police car to the station to make sure she’s okay. And maybe they’ll help her remember