‘Why not?’
‘He was high, Dad. He’d been smoking. We all were. A bit.’
Tobias pauses for a beat, opens the car and collapses into the driver’s seat.
‘We’ll deal with that later. But try to get help. And Bella, do not under any circumstances go into the water yourself.’
‘Daddy. I don’t know what to do. I’m scared.’
‘Just pull yourself together and do it,’ he shouts and steers the car down through the winding driveway, away from the hotel, and along the coast road.
As he drives, Tobias feels his heart pumping. The strange, lurching jump of it. He decides to dial 999 himself, jabbing at the touchscreen on the car dashboard, and the call is answered almost immediately.
‘Which service do you require?’ comes the reply.
‘Ambulance,’ he shouts, throwing the car around the bends and curves in the road. ‘My son has been involved in a swimming accident.’
‘What’s the location, please?’
‘We’re on holiday. By the coast. Err. Silver Penny Cove.’
‘Stay on the call and we’ll be able to locate you. Is your son safe?’
‘I don’t know. I’m on my way there now.’
‘Okay, we’ve had quite a lot of activity in that area this evening but we’ll send out someone as soon as possible. If you stay on the line, I can talk you through what to do when you reach your son.’
‘Right,’ says Tobias. He is appalled to find that his voice is breaking. ‘Yes. Yes, please.’
He swings into the turning and begins the descent down into the cove before the narrow lane peters out into a dirt track and he abandons the car. He is following the sound of voices, the glow of mobile phones, a small fire. His feet stumble over the hillocks of marram grass as the path winds down to the beach. He can hear his daughter now, calling out plaintively into the night, over and over.
‘Drew, please. Wake up, Drew. Open your eyes. Say something.’
41
Lottie is standing well back from the roadside, watching the fire slowly die, the water jets streaming like hissing serpents in the dark, the smoke and steam rising. She is mesmerised by it all. The renovation is now a blackened skull; dark recesses within a broken face. The roof has all but disappeared, the original door and window frames are non-existent. If you listen hard enough, you can almost hear the timbers of the house singing as they cool.
Burned debris litters the back garden but the fire has not reached much further. The scaffolding has fallen down in places – the wooden boardwalks disintegrated – but not everywhere. Some of it is still erect like a strange metal plant climbing up the facade of the building. But the fire must have weakened it and its collapse was the almighty bang they heard. Thank goodness they were still inside at the time, and she feels herself tremble anew.
Josh clings to her like a limpet. They are both shivering despite the heat from the fire and the warm, close night. She tries to turn his head away, bury his face into her shoulder in spite of his curiosity. This is not a sight she wishes him to remember, to be burned on his retinas for the rest of his life. And yet, Lottie finds she cannot look away herself.
She forces her eyes down to the ground and realises she has lost her flip-flops somehow. The soles of her feet are sore but she can’t understand why, her chest aching even when she is still. Her throat feels scoured as if she has been shouting, though allshe has been able to do is quietly murmur into Josh’s ear. Her eyes too are scratchy, her vision blurred. She wishes she could close them and wake up to find this was all a horrible nightmare, instead of a bad dream made real. How could this be? What might have happened if she hadn’t woken up in time? It is unthinkable and she clutches Josh’s clammy, plump body to hers, like a childhood teddy that will comfort and restore.
Tim is talking to a paramedic, over by the ambulance. There were two more, their sirens blaring, acidic colours a hazard warning. But they have both already left, taking two people, two bodies, alive or dead she’s not sure. No one will disclose this information yet although there is a rumour going round amongst the other bystanders that it was a man and a woman. She absorbed this news mutely as a neighbour had pressed a mug of hot, sweet tea into her hand.
Her husband has swung into responsible teacher mode, managing the situation, checking on others, gathering information. Lottie should be appreciative. It is an aspect of his personality for which she is usually so grateful. His reassuring presence, a constant in her life since they met. But as she watches him now, walking back towards them, she wonders if and when he will ever fall apart. Panic, crumble or go to pieces. Or is he infallible? Unshakable to his roots.
‘They want to check us over,’ he says. ‘In the ambulance. Just for any signs of smoke inhalation, injury, cuts and burns, that sort of thing. See if we need to go to hospital.’
‘I’m fine. We’re fine,’ she answers.
‘I know but it’s just a formality, Lottie. And what about Josh? His little lungs …’ He trails off.
‘I just need a hot shower and some sleep. Tim, where are we going to stay? What’ll we do now? Josh needs his bed, clean clothes. What about all our stuff in the apartment?’
‘Probably contaminated,’ he confirms. ‘We might have to forget about it for now. Perhaps entirely. And anyway, the firecrew said the whole place will have to be properly risk-assessed before the building can be entered again, let alone cleaned and refurbished. Same for the folks on the other side. All three buildings might be condemned, who knows?’
‘But our apartment is fine. The fire didn’t get chance to spread next door.’
