Rosie shakes her head. ‘No. You stay with them, Seb. They need you more than I do. Stay with them.’
Seb agrees with a brief incline of his head before he glances towards Eva, who now has two police officers in front of her, taking notes, and Rosie knows without having to be told what he’s asking.
‘Of course. I won’t leave her on her own.’
Seb swallows and nods again before the four of them start walking slowly away. Rosie watches them and for the first time she notices how many people have gathered now. Neighbours, acquaintances, some strangers in Halloween costumes, some in dressing gowns and slippers, all turned towards the bonfire made from her mother-in-law’s life. Some of them notice Rosie looking at them, and they nudge their neighbours so they too can turn to stare at Rosie. As Katerina leads her towards the open rear doors of the ambulance, Rosie looks back at all those faces and where she would once have felt shame grip, wringing her stomach like a filthy dishrag, she feels a wonderful lifting gentleness because none of them understand anything. None of them really know anything at all.
Inside the ambulance it’s jarringly bright but Katerina’s eyes are kind, the hand guiding Rosie soft. Rosie sits where she’s told to sit and answers all the questions she’s asked. No, she doesn’t feel dizzy. In fact, she feels clearer than she’s felt for weeks. Any nausea? She shakes her head. Her pulse is raised but Katerina lifts an eyebrow and says, ‘Under the circumstances, I think we can let that go.’
Katerina gently turns Rosie’s palm so it’s facing up and, placing glasses on her nose, she peers down. Rosie winces and Katerina says, ‘Sorry, sweetheart,’ before asking, ‘Can you tell me what happened?’
Rosie’s about to tell her simply that she burnt her hand but as she starts to speak, she realizes that’s not right. That’s not right at all. Rosie must say the words, not just for Katerina, but also for herself. She must start trying to understand why she’s sitting here with this kind, gentle woman tending to her while outside the fire roars.
‘I’d gone back to Eva’s a little before the kids. They were getting ratty, you know, hungry, and I just needed a moment.’
Katerina looks up at Rosie, nods. Rosie guesses she’s a mother too.
‘I’d just got into the kitchen, turned the oven on, when I heard the letterbox bang. Then I fell to the floor. I thought I was being shot at but then another one came and flew straight through into the kitchen, landing so close to me. I don’t know, I just reached out my hand like I didn’t believe it; I thought it was fake. That’s when I got burnt. I ran outside after that, just as the whole place started going crazy. The fire brigade arrived soon after.’ Rosie falls into silence.
The rest of the story is only for her and Seb.
‘We drove past your husband on our way here.’ Rosie keeps her eyes on her hand, unsure where this is going.
‘He was running like a madman.’
Rosie feels Katerina’s eyes flicker, land on her face.
‘You can probably imagine, I see all sorts in this job, but I’ve never seen a man run like that.’ She chuckles quietly, gently, before finishing her bandaging and telling Rosie that she should go to A&E tomorrow, but tonight she’s free to go.
When she steps outside the air is smokier now.
Eva is standing alone once again. She stares at the fire, her face solemn, like she’s determined to say goodbye to it all. Rosie moves to stand next to her, slides her undamaged hand into Eva’s. She feels it all in her mother-in-law, the electric pulse of her shock, the blank newness of a future none of them could ever have predicted. Eva doesn’t cry but she does sometimes hum. It sounds old and achingly sad, but Rosie hears it as a kind of hymn to change. It brings Rosie back to Benjamin’s hospice bed where Eva stayed by his side for those final days and nights, humming, as he slowly, slowly went on his way.
Rosie has no idea how long they stay like that but by the time Seb comes back, it’s like the fire has settled into the main course. All the soft things are gone, the fire grinding its jaws now against the bones of Eva’s old furniture, the wooden window frames and beams. Eva’s humming again so Rosie and Seb move away slightly to talk.
‘They’re asleep,’ Seb tells her. ‘They’re exhausted, worried about you and Granny, but otherwise I think they’re OK.’
‘Who’s with them?’
Seb’s eyes widen a little. ‘Eddy came over.’
‘Eddy?’ Rosie’s voice lifts with surprise.
‘Yeah, he’d been here and saw me leaving with the kids. I suppose he figured out that was a way he could help.’ Seb shrugs his shoulders, breathes out, coughs a bit at the smoke before he says gently, ‘Listen, Ro. The police came over. They’re waiting, in the car over there. They want to ask both of us some questions about who could have done this.’
Rosie feels blank for a moment. She’d been so consumed by everything that happened, she hadn’t given any thought to how they got here in the first place. She has no idea what she’d say to them, but she nods at Seb. ‘OK.’
It’s after midnight when Seb and Rosie walk the short distance home.
It feels strange being home. Rosie feels guilty – with Eva by her side, because look, here’s their kitchen table, their sofa, their shoes all intact. All still here. Rosie runs upstairs to see the kids. They’re as Seb described, all asleep together, a pile of puppies in Rosie and Seb’s bed. Sound asleep. She kisses them, her heart swelling with gratitude for their sweet breath, for the life in them, before going back downstairs.
Eva is sitting in the kitchen, Eddy sheepish and uncomfortable opposite, a pot of tea in the middle. If it wasn’t for the police officers also sitting at the table and the grim line of Eva’s mouth in her ash-stained face, they could just be having a late-night chat.
Eddy stands as soon as he sees Rosie. His eyes are red; he’s been crying. He hugs Rosie tightly, wrapping his arms fully around her, and says, ‘I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, Ro.’
His apologies confuse Rosie because what is he apologizing for? This fire that wasn’t his fault or all the stuff before that was?
She mutters, ‘Thank you for being here, Ed. Thanks for …’
He waves her gratitude away and once they’ve promised to let him know if there’s anything else that he can do, Eddy hugs them both one last time and leaves.
Now it’s just the five of them. The woman introduces herself again, her name – Sarah Wilcox – coming after a series of letters that Rosie immediately forgets, and her colleague, Nathan, who is quiet with dark circles under his eyes.
Once introductions are over, Sarah Wilcox tells them it’s important they act quickly, because acting quickly improves the odds that they’ll actually find the person or people responsible.
Rosie and Seb nod and take it in turns to recount their version of what happened. The trick-or-treating, the forgotten crumble, the first blood-freezing shriek. Sarah Wilcox leaves the note-taking to Nathan and keeps her eyes fixed steadily on Rosie and Seb.
When they run out of things to say they look at each other, and Seb cups his palm over Rosie’s hand where it rests on the kitchen table. Sarah Wilcox’s eyes flash.
Her tone becomes a little cooler. ‘We’re aware you’ve been going through a … complicated time, Mr Kent, but we need to know: is there anyone who immediately comes to mind who might have reason to want to harm you or your mum?’
Seb looks briefly at Eva, who looks tiny now she’s away from the fire. She moves her head in an almost imperceptible nod to show Seb she’s OK. She can hear what he needs to say.
‘I’d been getting threats. Death threats. Emails saying some ugly things. And there were people – parents, mostly – who were angry. Really angry. Some of the kids at school, I know, had really lost faith in me, but I don’t think, I honestly don’t think it would have been any of them …’
Rosie stares, horrified, at Seb.