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My mother reached up, rattled the handle.
‘My God, Jesus—’
I’ll never forget how she looked at me then. Her eyes never looked so big, her face so pale.
‘The deadlock’s on. Where’s the key?’
Why wasn’t it in the door? We always kept it there at night. In case there’s a fire and we need to get out. . .
She felt for the cupboard, worked her hands along the hooks. Shook her head.
‘No.’
Her voice dripped with fear. I turned away to hide my tears. In my peripheral vision, an orange glow.
She banged on the door. Yelled for help that didn’t come.
We were too high up to jump out of a window, too weak to break down the door. The flames were sneaking along the wall. We were trapped. No way out.
A lurking thing crept out of the shadows, a presence I now think of as my wolf.
Resistance is futile. Matty’s favourite show.
And then—
‘It’s here!’ I brandished the key, our salvation. ‘It was hiding under the mat.’
I’m not sure what made me look there.
‘God,’ my mother said later, ‘watching out for us.’
I gave it to her, hands shaking too much to use it myself.
Time moved in slow motion. Her putting it in the lock, turning it, us getting out. The delicious rush of clean air filling my lungs, the sweet relief of escape.
We stumbled down the stairs to the door of the building, clinging to each other, a pair of shipwreck survivors.
Des Banister opened his front door, poked his comb-over out.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked, looking my mother up and down. Part curiosity, part leer.
‘Fire,’ she wheezed, standing there in her nightshirt, too much in shock to be aware of her state of undress.
The blood drained from Des’ face.
‘Fire?’
He rushed out of his flat without a backward glance, tore through the main door. From inside his apartment, the sound of barking.
‘Your dog!’ I called after him as we trooped blinking out of the building. To our eyes, the lamplit night was searchlight bright.
From down the street came the wail of an approaching siren. A flash of blue dancing over the tarmac. Curtains parting in neighbouring windows.
‘There’s a dog in there,’ I shouted to the firemen as they stormed into the building. ‘You’ve got to help it.’
I’d told Des five times. Tried to go back inside myself when he wouldn’t.
My mother held me tightly.
