A Married Man Part 35

'Boys?' he croaked finally, looking up and glancing around, blinking, his face blackened.

'Absolutely fine,' I breathed, 'thanks to you.'

'Rose?'

We both looked across. Her family were gathered around her, as she lay still on the gra.s.s. The ambulance came to a halt, lights flashing beside us.

'Not sure,' said David quietly, as he left us and went across to join them.

We watched as the back door of the ambulance flew open, and two men jumped out, swiftly followed by a stretcher. Rose's tiny body was lifted onto it, a red blanket tucked up around her neck - but not over her head, I thought thankfully. She was carried inside. Archie and the girls followed, the aunts too, all sombrely climbing in. The ambulanceman looked doubtful.

'I'm not sure you can all-'

'Don't be silly, man,' snapped Archie, 'we'll do as we please. My family have all inhaled smoke, and these two elderly women need to be seen to.'

The driver demurred with a shrug and the doors slammed. Before he got in the front, though, he ran across to us.

'Rest of you all right?' he shouted. 'Was anyone else inside?'

'My boys!' I said, standing up and pushing them forward.

He took a quick look, peered in their eyes and then down their throats. 'Well, they look OK, but there's another ambulance coming. It should be here soon, but we're short-staffed tonight. Make sure they get in it, though, when it comes, all right? They should be checked over.'

I nodded and he disappeared off. A second later the doors of the ambulance slammed shut, and it roared off down the drive, siren wailing into the night.

Meanwhile, hoses unwound and gushed into life, as the Fire Brigade, running back and forth and shouting orders, took their water from the lake and shot great jets at the flames. Jack and I watched from the bank, a wide-eyed child in each of our arms.

'A lost cause,' said Jack eventually. 'A timber-framed barn no way. No b.l.o.o.d.y way. G.o.d knows what happened in there.' 'G.o.d knows,' I echoed, numbly. 'Ben, what-'

'No, not now,' said Jack quickly. He got to his feet and hauled me up with him. 'Come on, this sodding ambulance won't appear for hours, and we'll only be lying on trolleys in hospital corridors waiting to be checked for carbon monoxide poisoning, which even if we've got, they can't do a great dealabout. We've got David anyway. He can look at the boys. We'll go up to the house'

'But shouldn't we wait? Shouldn't we be with the Fire Brigade and-'

'Watch your house burn?' he interrupted gently. 'You don't want to do that. And neither do Ben and Max. Come on.'

He was right. Of course he was right. Sitting there uselessly, helplessly, watching our possessions burn, like staring at some sort of freak show. But I didn't know how to react, you see. Didn't seem to know the right thing to do. I realised I was shaking. David came back from talking to the firemen, and I felt a blanket being gently put around my shoulders. It was the one they'd caught Rose in.

He looked at Jack. 'Let's go,' he said quietly.

Jack nodded, and they led me to my car. Somehow we got in. I don't remember much, but I think I was huddled in the back with my sons, and I seem to remember we drove up to the house in silence. Jack and David carried the boys inside, up the front steps and through the huge hall, the only door that was open. I followed, stumbling up the stone steps, gazing blankly at the black and white flagstone floor. I remember thinking it was odd to be in the house without Rose tripping down the stairs to greet us, and for a moment, I couldn't remember what we were doing there. I stopped still in the middle of the hall. Gazed around. I seemed to have a blanket hanging off my shoulders...

'I'd like to check the boys over, might even give them something to help them sleep,' said a voice. It was David, turning to me at the foot of the stairs. 'All right with you?'

I stared at him. 'Yes. Fine,' I whispered.

I watched him carry Max upstairs. Saw him reach out to take Ben's hand at the same time. What was I doing, standing there, at the bottom? Suddenly I came to. 'I'll I'll come with you.'

I ran forward and found Ben's other hand and together we took them up the huge staircase, along the corridor at the top, to the bedroom they normally slept in. Should have slept in, I thought as I pushed open the door, my mind racing, but still, as if it had a blank tape inside it, uncomprehending. I washed their hands and faces in a blur and found clean pyjamas, dimly aware I was functioning on automatic pilot as I dipped flannels in hot water, wrung them out, wiped away soot and grime. Max was yawning hugely; Ben, climbing into bed, wide-eyed and pale. Up all night, I thought in panic, with what nightmares? Horrific visions? But no, because David was even now slipping something tranquil into some warm milk that Joan had just bustled in with, her face white and shocked.

'Poor lambs,' she muttered as she put down the tray. 'How are they?'

'They're fine, Joan,' I whispered, managing to raise a smile for their sake. My throat constricted, my voice began to buckle. 'Right as rain after their big adventure, aren't you, boys?'

'We could have died,' Ben informed her solemnly, his face a pale mask as he sat bolt upright in bed. 'We nearly burned to death in there.'

Did we?' said Max, turning to him, the full horror dawning in his big blue eyes.

'Nonsense,' I soothed. 'Jack got you out in bags of time,and anyway, the Fire Brigade had just arrived. They'd have got you out of there in a jiffy.'

'They couldn't stop the fire,' ventured Ben in a tight, high voice. 'You saw it, the barn. It was all burning down!'

'Well, letting a building deliberately burn is quite different to getting people out. Of course they'd have got you out if Jack hadn't been there. Heavens, I'd have got you out if Jack hadn't been there!'

'You're shaking, Mummy. And your face is a really funny colour,' said Max.

'She's cold,' said David quickly, making them lie down and tucking them in. 'And it's all been a bit of a shock. Now, come on boys, you've had your milk, Joan will sit with you until you're asleep. Joan?'

She nodded. "Course I will'

'Oh no,' I startled. 'I'll do that, David. I'll-'

'You'll do nothing of the sort. I want you downstairs by the fire with a brandy, not sitting up here in the dark thinking terrible thoughts. You can come up and kiss them when you've stopped shaking'

'Can we have the landing light on?' asked Max in a small voice.

"Course you can, duck,' said Joan. 'And I'll be here at the end of the bed, with my knitting. Till you're fast asleep.'

She shooed me out, waving her hand at me, and I suppose I must have looked awful. No good to the boys at all, evidently, since everyone wanted me to go. As I followed David to the door, though, I turned. Held onto the door frame.

'Ben, what were you doing in there? You were supposed to be up at the house, with Granny.'

I saw Ben sit up in the dark, in his bed. 'You didn't tell us that. We thought Trisha was babysitting at the barn as usual, so we just went down there and went to bed. We thought she'd come.'

I stared at him, horrified. G.o.d hadn't I told them? Was that right? Had I gone off without telling them where they were sleeping?

'But but surely . . I faltered.

'Come on now,' interrupted David gently, taking my arm. 'Not now. We can sort it all out in the morning'

I went, twisting my head back briefly to gaze at Ben, before following David, numbly, downstairs.

In the small sitting room a fire was blazing. Jack was sitting beside it, cradling a brandy and staring into the flames. He'd wiped most of the grime off his face but there was still a dark tide-mark round the edge. He reached for the decanter on the table beside him as we came in.

'One for each of you, I presume?'

'Certainly one for Lucy, and a seat here,' David pulled the other armchair right up to the fire. 'But I'm going on to the hospital now, so I won't. No, hang it. Yes, I will.' He poured himself a gla.s.s, swirled it around, and drank it down quickly. He stood still for a moment, stared into s.p.a.ce, his face white. He looked all in.

'You'll let us know?' I said, moving gratefully to the chair and sitting down. G.o.d, my legs were wobbly, I felt like an invalid. 'I mean, how she is?'

'Hmm?' David looked blankly at me for a moment, as if he didn't recognise me. 'Oh, of course,' he said quickly, collecting himself. 'And don't worry. Despite her size, Rose is astough as old boots. She'll be fine.'

I nodded and forced a tight smile.

'And don't worry about the boys either. It's quite clear they didn't inhale anything too dangerous' He put his gla.s.s down and made for the door, pausing before he went out. He turned. 'The great thing is, though, to talk about it, Lucy. Not pretend it never happened. Particularly with Ben.'

I nodded wordlessly back. Couldn't manage anything else. My Ben. My sensitive, owl-eyed Ben.

'I'll be in touch' And with that he went.

A curious stillness seemed to fall on the room as he left; it was as if Jack and I, alone in front of the fire, were in some kind of limbo. As if it hadn't happened. None of it. I looked at the amber liquid someone had put in my hand. Raised it to my lips and sipped it tentatively. Surprisingly it tasted good. Warm. I took a great gulp and stared into the flames. I saw Jack, running out of them, with Ben in his arms.

'Jack, how can I ever thank you?' I trembled. 'Ben and Max, if you hadn't-'

'If I hadn't, the Fire Brigade would have got them out,' he interrupted firmly. 'They weren't in any great danger, Lucy. The fire hadn't got a proper hold.'

I knew this to be as big a lie as I'd just told Ben. I remembered sitting on the gra.s.s, stunned and shocked, watching the great arcs of water shoot from the hoses; huge, pressurised high-speed jets battling to put out the flames. We hadn't stayed to watch the fight, but I knew it had been in vain. A dark sh.e.l.l no doubt remained, drenched and blackened. All that was left of our home, of our possessions.

'Everything that we owned was in there,' I quavered. I took a great slug of brandy, its warm comfort finding its way down fast. 'All that we had. Photos, all my pictures of Ned . . I put a hand over my eyes, horrified as I realised. 'Letters -everything!'

'I know,' said Jack quietly, 'but that's all you can't replace. Everything else, you can.'

His face was pale in the circle where he'd washed the soot away, his blue eyes unnaturally bright in the firelight. He'd been in and out of a burning building three times to save lives, and I was talking about possessions.

'Of course it can,' I breathed, 'of course it can be replaced. And what do all those things matter, when Rose is in hospital, and Ben and Max - oh Jack, I'm sorry.' I covered my face with my hands. 'How could I even have said that? I - I don't know what's wrong with me. Don't seem able to handle this.' I was shaking violently again. 'And look at you, all calm and poised and - oh G.o.d, I was just so frightened!'

To my horror tears were streaming down my face, through my fingers, and the shaking was making the blanket fall off my shoulders. In a second he was beside me, kneeling, his arm tight around my shoulders.

'It's fine,' he said firmly, 'you shouldn't have to handle it. You've had a fright, and you're in shock, that's all.'

'My children!' I gasped, taking my hands away, all control gone now. 'Coming out of those flames! White-faced, in their pyjamas, their beds burning upstairs, where - where they'd just slept! Teddies, trains . . I could feel my eyes wide and staring as I visualised the horror; saw them running out of their rooms onto the landing, smelling the smoke, seeing the flames lick up the stairs, glancing, terrified, at each other ...

'And me not there. Me not with them! But Jack, what were they doing there? I left them here with Rose, I did!' My voice rose shrilly.

'Of course you did, my love,' he soothed, scooping me off the chair now, pulling me down onto his lap, holding me close to stop the shaking.

'I didn't leave them alone, I swear I didn't. I wouldn't do that! And - oh Jack,' my voice dipped low suddenly, 'they could have died. They so nearly did!'

'They didn't die though, did they? They're alive and well and asleep upstairs, OK?' He searched my face with his eyes, gave me a little shake. 'OK, Luce?'

I nodded. 'OK!' I gasped, finally.

'And so there's no point going over and over it, blaming yourself for something that didn't happen, is there?'

I stared right into the very dark centre of his eyes. 'No point,' I repeated dumbly.

He was stroking my hair off my face now, holding me close, as one would a child. It was so lovely, such a comfort. His warm body close to mine by the fire. I felt I wanted to stay there on his lap for ever, curled up like this, and that if I did, everything would be fine. The nightmare might never have happened. He could make it go away, and keep everything else at bay, too; this watchful man who did battle in the cause of goodness, who ran through fires in its name. I felt a weight lifting from me and a warm, submissive feeling spread from my stomach to my limbs. My shoulders were steadier now. His face was still close to mine, bright blue eyes alert, checking, concerned, watching me intently. I could almost feel his breath on my face he was so close.

'Are you going to kiss me?' I whispered.

He looked startled. Gave a slight smile. Regarded me quizzically for a moment.

'Do you want me to?'

'Very much.'

For several seconds we continued to look at each other and neither of us spoke. Then he leaned the last few inches necessary for his lips to meet mine. They were warm and dry, and his arm in the small of my back pulled me gently off his lap and close into him. My head rocked and I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs. At length we drew apart. My arms were round his neck and I looped them over his head, the better to see his face. His eyes searched mine and I dropped my arms to his shoulders again, almost overcome by the intensity of his gaze. I held on tight, and then he drew back, as if to focus, to look at me properly.

'Lucy,' he said softly.

That was all. But as we regarded each other, in the firelight, it seemed to me that here was a face I knew so well, and yet I almost hadn't known was there. It was as if I'd been close up to something so large, so huge, I couldn't see it, had been unable to focus. Until now. Until this moment, when he ceased to be the boy I'd known for ever, had met in a bar in college, Ned's cousin, a friend to my sons, ceased to be all of that and became a stranger, with whom I longed to be on intimate terms, in a way that would have been unthinkable moments before. I saw his eyes recognise this too, this need to escape our real selves, to obliterate them with sensation, and in another moment his lips were on mine again. In a silken movement he deftly lifted me off his lap, and laid me down onthe floor, on the carpet, and then he was beside me, so that we were lying together. As he drew me into his body I arched my back and inadvertently sighed, as if signalling a total openness to all that might happen next. I felt his body harden and respond. When we heard the telephone ringing in the next-door room, our eyes flickered open at each other, alarmed. Interruption would destroy us, now. We needed to be remote, our heads in a whirl, our pasts forgotten, and ordinary sounds would remind us of who we were; Jack and Lucy, down on the rug, by the fire in the sitting room, after a catastrophe. Ridiculous, when you think about it, after all that had happened; the terrors of the night, yet with his hands in my hair, his mouth on mine ... Still the phone rang, persistently, mercilessly.

'Leave it,' I ordered breathlessly, as for a moment, we parted. We listened. Motionless, we stared at each other. It wasn't beside us, shrieking and loud, it was in the next room, but nevertheless, it was insistent. It wasn't going to stop.

'We have to get it,' said Jack suddenly, drawing away from me and kneeling up. It might be David.'

'Oh! Yes of course.'

I sat up as he left the room. Suddenly I felt very much in the present. Very much on a nicked-up Persian rug in the sitting room at Netherby, my clothes rumpled, my old self, threatening to be shocked, appalled even by my behaviour. I bit my lip and bade my old self down, tried to think straight. My head was spinning incoherently, but through the blur, through the confusion, the only clarity of thought I had was that I wanted him back. I wanted him here, now, beside me, by the fire, making it all go away.

And he was back, a moment later, his footsteps echoing as he smartly crossed the flagstone hall. As he came through the door though, his face was ashen.

'That was David,' he said. 'He was phoning from the hospital. Rose died ten minutes ago.'

Chapter Twenty-eight.

When I awoke the following morning, it wasn't that I didn't know where I was, it was just that I couldn't work out why. I appeared to be in bed, in the green room. Yes, definitely the green room, at Netherby, I thought, peering sleepily at the faded William Morris wallpaper, but - I struggled up onto my elbows - G.o.d, I felt so groggy. Drugged almost. But then ... yes, of course. Jack had given me something to make me sleep. I stared at the spriggy wallpaper. My mind reeled back. Jack, white-faced, helping me upstairs; up that sweeping staircase, one arm around my shoulders, the other supporting my elbow as I - what, went into shock again? Was that what had happened, why I'd been so weak? Leading me in here, giving me a gla.s.s of water, handing me a pill ... getting me into bed, then pulling the covers up, and telling me to sleep. Me, taking the gla.s.s with a shaky hand, trying to stop crying, looking at the grim face before me, that for some reason, ten minutes ago, I'd been kissing the life out of. Ten minutes before, that is, we'd heard the news that Rose was dead. Ten minutes before, when we'd lain together on the rug, entwined, whilst she'd died of smoke inhalation in a hospital bed.

I stayed like that, propped up on my elbows, the full force of the horror sweeping over me. I gave a sudden shiver, even though it was a warm morning and the sun was streaming through the gap in the heavy linen curtains. When I finally sat up, I realised that, apart from my shoes, I was still wearing my clothes. I swung my legs around out of bed, and immediately felt sick. Whether it was the after-effect of a pill I wasn't used to, or Rose's death, or my home burning to the ground, or perhaps the full implications of my outrageous behaviour the night before dawning, I don't know, but I ran to the bathroom and threw up.

Slowly, I washed my face, wiped it numbly with a towel. Then I sat on the edge of the bath for a bit. Eventually I got up and tentatively made my way back to the bed, feeling the walls for support. On the bedside table was a photo of Ned. Yes, even here, in the spare room, and for once, I couldn't look at him. I turned it away. Couldn't face him. Ned had had little love for his mother and was no hypocrite, but he would certainly have been horrified by the nature of her death. I stood up slowly, my eyes riveted suddenly by a small gap in the curtains. I knew that if I drew them, I'd see the ruined barn. I knew this was possible from this room. But I couldn't move. Rose was dead, had died in there. This seemed so overwhelming, so colossal, it was all I could do to stand there, wiping sweat from my top lip, trying to comprehend. And then abruptly, from the next-door room I heard voices. Raised voices, shrill and insistent. The boys. Oh Christ, the boys! I flew out onto the landing and darted into their room.

Max was standing at the end of Ben's bed in his Harry Potter pyjamas, a cup of milk in each hand. His cheeks werepink with indignation, and he was shouting at Ben, who was pale and wide-eyed, sitting up in bed.

'Mum! Ben says I'm fibbing, but it's true, Joan told me! I went down to get a drink and she told me in the kitchen. Granny's dead, isn't she? Tell him, Mummy!'

'Yes, yes it's true,' I breathed, going towards them both, encircling Max with my arm and drawing him over towards Ben in the bed. I took his hand. 'Ben, listen. Granny, very sadly, died last night.'

'No!' he yelled, s.n.a.t.c.hing his hand away. 'Not in that fire! Not burned to death, that can't be true!' Horror filled his eyes.

'No no, not like that,' I said quickly. 'Not burned at all. It was the smoke, you see, and the shock, and her age too, you know. It was all too much for her. They had to drop her from a window, you saw that, and her heart wouldn't-'

'No! I don't believe it. I won't believe it! Granny can't be dead, she can't be!'