The Firefighter's Fiance

‘I nearly had them. And I was in radio contact the whole time.’

‘Yes, but you didn’t do what you were told. You put yourself and other crew members in danger.’

‘Where are the kids? What’s going on?’

‘Stay put and let Matt check you over. That’s an order.’

OK. She’d let Matt check her over, and then she was going back in.

Then she realised that Matt was still cradling her in his arms. As if she were a precious piece of china. ‘You can put me down now,’ she muttered. ‘I can stand on my own two feet.’

He stared at her, looking shocked. Clearly he’d been holding her in his arms without realising what he was doing. In silence, he set her back on her feet and walked with her over to the ambulance.

By the time Matt had checked her over, Mark and the other crew were back out and had been replaced by the relief team. There were four more engines here now. Steam billowed upwards, mingling with the choking black smoke. And still the flames licked through the building. Still they roared. Still the heat blistered the air.

‘Mark, did you get the kids out?’ she asked urgently.

‘No. We couldn’t hear anyone in there either.’

‘Things are always muffled in the middle of a fire. The kids might be too scared to make a sound.’

‘Yeah.’ But his face said he didn’t believe it. That there was another reason why the kids were silent. A much, much worse reason. Especially when the smoke was thick and choking.

Then there was a shout as two firefighters ran towards them, carrying small bodies.

‘We’ve put oxygen on them,’ one of the firefighters said.

It was what he didn’t say that Kelsey heard. The but. A big but. They didn’t hold out much hope. The smoke and the heat might have taken too much of a toll on the small bodies.

Matt and Dale put the children straight in the ambulance; Matt stayed in the back, already checking them over, while Dale slammed the doors and scrambled into the driver’s seat. Siren going, the ambulance left the site.

‘Oh, God. I nearly got them out safely. Nearly,’ Kelsey whispered. ‘They’ve got to be all right.’ Please. They had to be all right.

CHAPTER FOUR (#u6057cd9c-97a6-5d57-b3c0-63876c775043)

FOUR hours later, the fire was out. The building was blackened and charred in places, there was the smell of wet embers everywhere, and a mixture of smoke and steam hung in the air. The job was done—but the crew found no satisfaction in it. Not when two small lives hung in the balance.

Even though Kelsey had a shower and washed her hair when she got back to the fire station, she could still smell the smoke. Taste it. Feel it in her eyes. Feel it in the back of her throat.

She couldn’t stand the waiting any more. She needed to know. She called the hospital and got through to the reception desk in the emergency department. ‘I wondered if you could tell me how Mikey and Lucy are, the two kids brought in from the school fire?’

‘Are you a relative?’ the receptionist asked.

‘No, I’m one of the firefighters.’ The one who hadn’t got them out in time.

‘Sorry. I’m afraid we can’t give out information over the phone.’

Well, it was what she’d expected. ‘Thanks anyway.’ But there was another way she could find out. Someone else who could tell her. She speed-dialled Matt’s mobile number. Please, don’t let him be driving or in the hospital, when his phone would be diverted to his voicemail.

Well, it shouldn’t be. She’d ended up working past the end of her shift. He should be home now—or even if he’d gone out with the crew for a Friday evening post-shift drink, he’d have his mobile on.

She hoped.

To her relief, he answered his mobile within three rings. ‘Matt Fraser.’

‘Hey. It’s me.’

‘Is the fire out, or are you just having a break and change of crews?’

She smiled. Clearly he’d remembered that firefighters were relieved after a four-hour stint and took a break—a wash, change and something to eat and drink, then back at the front again. Well, he should know after eighteen months of sharing a house with her. ‘It’s out.’

‘Good. You on your way home now?’

‘Yeah.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Matt, I called the hospital. They wouldn’t tell me. Do you know how the kids are doing?’

‘Yes.’ There was a long, long pause that told her everything she didn’t want to know. ‘I’m sorry. They didn’t make it.’

She swore. ‘If I’d found them thirty seconds earlier—’

‘It’s not your fault, Kels. It really isn’t.’

So why did it feel that it was?

‘You did your best. So did Dale and I, on our way to the hospital. And the resus team when we got to the emergency department. But it wasn’t anybody’s fault. Who could have guessed that the boiler was going to go up like that? Or that the fire would spread that fast? Or that the kids had slipped out from the after-school club into another room and would hide in a cupboard when the fire alarm went off?’

‘Mmm.’ She didn’t trust herself to speak. Her eyes felt sore and gritty, and not just from exposure to smoke and heat.

‘Kels.’ His voice was soft, understanding. Like a hug down the phone line. Warm and strong and comforting. And how she wished he was right in front of her, holding her close. ‘Don’t beat yourself up. You’ve had four hours of hard work, carrying nearly thirty pounds of kit on your back. You must be shattered. And it was a nightmare job. It’s the first time you’ve been to a fire at a school, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah.’

He pressed on. ‘The first time you’ve not been able to save a child.’

She dragged in a breath. ‘Yeah,’ she whispered. She’d been to a couple of big blazes where they’d lost people, but she’d never been to a fire where they’d lost a child. Two children. One of whom she actually knew, from her fire prevention work at the school. She’d never have believed it would hurt so much. Or that it would affect her like this. She was a trained professional. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

‘It’s your first one, of course you’ll be feeling emotional. Anyone would, in your shoes. I remember the first time I couldn’t save a kid in a car crash and it hit me pretty hard. Look, I’m at home. I’ll come and pick you up.’

‘No. I’m fine,’ she mumbled. ‘Be home soon.’ Though when she ended the call, she let the phone drop on the table, propped her elbows on the wood and rested her forehead on her clenched fists. She should have been able to save those kids. She’d failed in her job. She’d been saved from a mangled car in her hour of need—but she’d failed to do the same for Mikey and Lucy. She hadn’t paid her debt. She’d failed them, just like she’d failed Danny.