Page 25 of The Chaos


  There’s a loud bang above our heads.

  ‘Please, Sarah.’

  We both look behind us at the way we came in. There’s a wall of flame filling the doorway to the kitchen, yellow and orange tongues licking up through the roof, reaching for the sky. But at the heart of it, there’s a darkness, a dark shape, a shadow. The blurred edges become focused and we both gasp. It’s a man, walking towards us through the flames.

  My dad. My dad’s here.

  But it can’t be. He’s dead. I’ve seen Him. I felt the chill of death in his neck. It’s not Him, it’s …

  ‘Adam,’ breathes Val. ‘Oh my God, it’s Adam.’

  She stumbles forward and falls into his arms as he emerges from the fire. He looks different, older maybe. I blink and my nightmare fills my head. The stranger with the scarred face takes my baby from me and walks into the flames.

  My baby. My baby. Where is she?

  ‘It’s only four steps and you’re through the flames,’ Adam’s shouting to be heard above the noise. ‘Get out of here, Nan. I’m here now. I’ll deal with it.’

  She holds onto his arms, her deep hazel eyes searching his face.

  ‘Nan, I’m not arguing. Go. Four steps and you’re out. We’ll be right behind you.’

  She nods. ‘Okay,’ she says. ‘Adam …?’

  ‘Not now. Just go. I’ll see you in a minute.’

  He puts his arm around her shoulders and gently points her in the right direction. She glances up at him again, and then half-walks, half-runs towards the kitchen. She’s silhouetted, like he was, for a moment, and then she’s gone.

  ‘Adam …’ I say, but then I stop. I hear it again – a weak cry, almost like an animal – and Adam does too. I see it in his face.

  It’s muffled and to one side of us. We both reach for the door to the under-stairs cupboard at the same time. There’s a small round handle and you press a button in the middle. My hand gets there first. The button burns the end of my thumb as I touch it. I pull the door open, and cry out, bringing my sleeve up to my nose. There’s an overpowering stench: vinegar and booze and shit.

  It’s dark in the cupboard and it takes a while for my eyes to adjust, and then I see them. Mia: alive, pink, squirming in the arms of my mum. One side of Mia’s face is spattered with blood, but it’s not hers. There’s a big wound on Mum’s scalp, and cuts on her face. The blood has trickled out of her and onto Mia, and she hasn’t wiped it off, because she doesn’t know it’s there. Her eyes are open and she’s looking right at me, but she can’t see a thing. She’s dead.

  I crawl in next to the two of them. There’s glass all over the floor, broken bottles and their contents; whisky, gin, pickles. Shards like knives cut through my jeans, slicing the skin on my knees and shins. I lean forward and gently take Mia from Mum’s arms.

  ‘It’s all right, all right,’ I coo to her, ‘I’ve got you now.’

  I hold her close, bent over so I can kiss her face, feel her warmth, smell her baby skin. She’s red-hot. Her clothes are wet in my hands, where her nappy’s leaked, and she smells of sick and pee. But it’s her sick, her pee, and I breathe it in gratefully.

  My little girl.

  My life.

  Alive and back in my arms.

  Chapter 69: Adam

  Sarah dives into the cupboard. I can’t see what’s happening. ‘Is she there? Have you got her?’ I shout out. Above my head the burning rafters are so hot I can feel it from down here. I’m trying to stay calm, to think not feel, to be in charge, to make the right decisions, but I’ve heard this noise before. My body remembers this burning heat, my skin’s shouting at me: You know this. Not again! Get out! Get out! The sweat’s pouring off of me. Every creak, every movement above me makes me flinch. This is it. It’s coming down.

  ‘Sarah!’ I shout, but my voice comes out in a scream of terror. ‘Sarah! Have you got her? Bring her out now!’

  I can hear Mia’s cry. I duck down to peer into the dark space. There are three people squeezed into there – Sarah, Mia and her mum.

  ‘Jesus!’ Sarah’s mum is dead, half her head caved in.

  Sarah’s got hold of Mia. She’s still crying, but at least she’s alive.

  ‘For God’s sake, Sarah, come out of there now!’

  I back up, to make room for her to get out, but there’s a hissing, wrenching sound above me. I look up and a beam of wood is dropping out of the sky towards me.

  ‘Shit!’

  I launch myself into the cupboard, knocking into Sarah’s mum. She slumps sideways, as Sarah screams, and the beam crashes to the floor half a metre from my foot.

  ‘Oh my God! Oh my God!’ I twist round and look behind me. The rafter’s lying across the hallway, still burning, sending its heat and flames towards us. More debris falls on top, the pieces that aren’t already on fire soon catching alight.

  Sarah won’t stop screaming. In this tiny space she’s making as much noise as Mia. I look back to the flames. They’ve got us trapped in here. It’s getting hotter and hotter, and soon the doorframe will catch and the flames will be inside with us. Orange and yellow and white. It’s too bright, much too bright, but I can’t look away. There’s a face in the flames. Junior staggers backwards, clutching his stomach and I fall, fall, fall. The flames are all round me. They’re melting my skin, cooking me from the outside.

  The first flame comes licking round the doorframe. I slide away from it through broken glass, until I’m right against Sarah. Her mouth is close to my ear and she’s screaming still.

  ‘Sarah,’ I shout. ‘You’ve got to stop. You’re frightening Mia.’

  Her screams turn into words.

  ‘The fire! It’s here. We’re trapped.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’

  Looking out of the cupboard door is like looking into a furnace. It’s madness to go out there. I should turn my back on it, put my arms around Sarah and Mia, and hold them until the end. I should tell them I love them, and close my eyes, and keep them closed. They’ll find four bodies here.

  ‘Adam? Adam?’

  She’s looking at me for an answer. I don’t have one. I haven’t got a plan and I’m as terrified as she is. But then her number comes to me again and I remember what it means. We’re going to be old, together. She’s going to go peacefully. We aren’t meant to die in here. Sarah’s is one number I don’t want to change. I’ve held on to it since the first moment I saw her. I’ll hold on to it now.

  ‘We’ll have to go through the fire.’ It’s our only option.

  ‘I can’t. I can’t.’

  ‘I’ll go out first, see what it’s like out there. Then, when I say, you come out. We’ll get through it together.’

  She’s not screaming any more, but she’s crying, a high whimpering noise.

  ‘We can do it, Sarah. We can do it.’

  I know what this is going to feel like. I’ve been here before.

  Don’t think. Don’t think. Just do it. Do it. Do it now!

  I shuffle away from Sarah and put my hand at the bottom of the doorframe. The paint’s blistering in the heat. I lever myself forward and out, trying to keep low. The heat takes my breath away. It looks like we’re surrounded by flames. I know the front of the hall is blocked, so our best bet is the way we came in, back through the kitchen, the way I sent Nan. The fire’s so close I can’t see what’s happening the other side of it. Has the kitchen roof caved in or is it clear? There’s no time to check. The hair sizzles on my head. I’m burning up where I stand.

  ‘Sarah, we’ve got to go now!’

  She stares at me out of the darkness like a hunted animal, but she don’t move.

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Nan got through. It’s fine. You’ve got to go now though. Quickly!’

  She moves forward on her knees, holding Mia close to her body. I take her elbows and help her up and out. Her eyes are red. She struggles to keep them open against the light and the heat.

  ‘Oh m
y God, I can’t. I can’t.’

  She crouches down.

  ‘It’s four steps and then you’re through. Four steps.’

  ‘We won’t make it. Oh my God.’

  ‘We haven’t got time for this.’

  I’m hunched over her, standing between her and the flames. I can feel the flesh on my back getting scorched in the heat.

  ‘Give me the baby. Give me Mia.’

  She looks at me then. I see the flames reflected in her eyes and in the middle of this chaos there’s a moment of stillness between us. We both know we’re smack in the middle of her nightmare.

  This is it.

  This is how it happens.

  She hesitates for a second, two seconds. The back of my sweatshirt is on fire, I can feel it.

  ‘Sarah! Give me the baby!’

  She passes Mia to me. Mia wriggles in my arms, but I’ve got her.

  ‘Now go!’

  She steps away from me. For a split-second her body is a black shape against the flames, and then she’s gone. Mia’s crying. I’m crying now. I thought I’d known pain. I thought I’d known terror. I was wrong.

  This is pain.

  This is terror.

  I gather Mia into my body, curling round her, shielding her with my arms.

  She’s as hot as I am, and as I hold her, her body goes rigid and her eyes roll back into her head. Her arms and legs start to twitch.

  Mia. Mia. Not now. Not today. Hold on, Mia, hold on.

  I gather her in closer and I walk into the fire.

  Chapter 70: Sarah

  He says it’s only four steps. One, two, three, four. The numbers are in my head as I walk away from him, as I walk away from Mia. My mind is screaming them as the heat hits my body. I close my eyes and I walk.

  One, two, three, four.

  I open my eyes, but I’m still inside the fire. It’s raging all around me. He lied! He lied to me! I trusted him and he tricked me and now he’s there, with her and I’ll never see them again.

  I turn around. I need to go back. I should never have left Mia. The heat forces my eyes closed again, and instead of Mia, I see Adam, his dark brown eyes, looking straight at me, straight into me. I feel his face, the first time I reached across the desk at school and touched him, his skin so smooth then. Adam. The boy who came looking for me, once, twice, three times. Who took me home. Who gave me his bed. Who stayed in London when he should have run away. Who kissed me.

  And then someone takes my hand and pulls me round, bony fingers squeezing mine.

  ‘It’s this way. Only a few steps more.’

  I keep my eyes closed and I start walking again. The floor’s a mess and my feet keep bumping into things. I lift them up, trying to step over, step through, step round – all with my eyes tight shut.

  And suddenly, the heat isn’t there any more. The roaring has gone from my ears. I’m out the other side, in the kitchen.

  There’s a space where my father’s body was, and a trail through the debris to the back door. People come rushing forward. Hands pat me where my clothes are alight, and lead me outside. Voices shoot questions at me. Fresh air hits my lungs, forcing its way through the smoke inside me.

  I try to get clear of the hands, the voices. I want to go back. I want to be with Adam and Mia. I need to fetch them.

  The voices join together in a chorus, a collective gasp.

  ‘Look!’

  I turn around and Adam is walking through the kitchen door. He’s on fire, trailing flames from his clothes and his hair as he walks.

  ‘Oh my God!’

  Then he’s surrounded by people. I can’t see him through the wall of backs and legs and feet.

  ‘Adam!’ I scream. ‘Adam!’

  The wall breaks and I catch sight of him, down on the ground, wrapped up in something from head to toe. They’re rolling him from side to side. And through all the noise, the cries and shouts, my ears pick out the voice I need to hear, the voice that’s so dear to me that it’s part of me. Mia. She’s crying. She’s alive.

  I run across to the crowd, work my way into the gap. They’re unwrapping Adam now, peeling away the blanket. People fall silent as he is revealed; his head, his shoulders, his chest. He’s on his side, with his back to me. All his hair is gone at the back of his head, and his clothes have burnt away. His skin is blistered, melted.

  His eyes are closed, but the front of him, his face and his arms, aren’t so bad. It was his back that caught the heat and Mia is still in his arms. Her arms and legs are stiff, odd-looking.

  ‘Let me,’ I say and I gently reach under her body and lift her away from him. As soon as I pick her up, I feel her body relax. The crying subsides, and with a few last shuddering sobs, she stops and opens her eyes.

  ‘Mia,’ I say. ‘Mia.’

  She stares at me with her blue, blue eyes.

  ‘Mia. You’re safe now. It’s all right. You’re safe now.’

  ‘Is she all right?’

  Adam’s voice is a whisper. His eyes are open too.

  ‘Yes,’ I say, ‘she’s fine. Look, she’s fine. You saved her.’

  I hold her down close to his face, so that he can see her, but he closes his eyes again.

  ‘I can’t,’ he says. ‘I can’t look.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, you can. She’s fine.’

  Mia coos and stretches her arms out towards him. The tiny hairs on her skin are singed, but her skin is pink and healthy and perfect. She touches his face, and he opens his eyes.

  ‘Oh my God,’ he breathes.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Mia,’ he says.

  He says her name and he starts to cry.

  Chapter 71: Adam

  The fit didn’t kill her. She’s upset, but she’s fine and she’s back in Sarah’s arms, where she should be.

  There’s just one thing that’s different, and it blows my mind. I can’t take it in. I don’t understand.

  My eyes fill up with tears. I try to blink them away. I don’t want to stop looking at her face, her eyes.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Sarah keeps saying. ‘She’s fine. You saved her.’

  And it looks like I did. That’s what it looks like. And yet. And yet …

  She’s close to me. Her hand is on my face, touching me. She doesn’t smile. She looks at me, all solemn. She’s calmer now and she stares at me and I stare at her.

  I’ve heard people talk about old souls and I never knew what they were on about. Now I think maybe I know what it means. There’s something timeless about the person looking at me. She can’t be only a month old – she’s seen things and been places. She knows. She understands.

  Her face is the last thing I see before I pass out and it stays with me as I sink down and away. It floats in front of me and goes through my eyes and into my head. It changes inside me, fading from colour to black and white and then into negative, light where it was dark, dark where it was light. It turns inside out, its features break apart from each other and dance, then join back in the wrong order, teasing me about what a face should be. It’s a game. I know it’s only a game, but more than anything I want her face back how it should be. I want it to turn out right. The pieces have to fit back in a way that makes sense. If I can’t get them to do that everything will be wrong. If I can’t do it, I might as well die.

  There was noise before – crackling flames, hissing and groaning from the building on fire, cries and shouts.

  There’s no noise now, only a silence that feels like a scream.

  Chapter 72: Sarah

  It’s like a movie, a disaster movie. I’m in it, but I’m also watching it, as things play out around me.

  The house is completely ablaze now. There’s no chance of saving it. In the back garden people are huddled in groups; around Adam, around Mia and me. All the things you see in a suburban back garden are still there; a couple of swings, a climbing frame, a trampoline. Dad’s body lies a metre away from a space hopper. It used to be mine and then the boys had it. Its mad eyes
and grin are facing me. Dad’s face is covered up. Someone’s put a coat over him, but his hands and legs are sticking out.

  Looking at him, I wonder what I should feel. I don’t feel anything, not yet. It’s just a body under a coat. It’s more upsetting thinking about Mum, slumped in the under-stairs cupboard. The flames will have got to her now. She’s being cremated. It’s too horrible to think about.

  I owe her. Whatever went on when I was at home, she saved Mia. Even when she was dead, she protected her.

  I look back towards the house.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say inside my head. ‘I love you, Mum.’ Do I? The woman who turned a blind eye? Did I – do I – love her? The flames are roaring now, like some sort of animal, sending glowing ash and smoke high up into the sky. I crane my neck back, trying to see where it all ends, but I can’t.

  ‘We’re losing him,’ someone says. The words drag me back onto the ground. It’s Adam. They mean Adam.

  He’s still lying on his side, but his eyes are closed now. The skin on his back and shoulders has turned pale – burnt white by the fire.

  ‘He’s gone into shock.’

  All these weeks and months in my nightmare, I felt so desperate about Mia. My panic, my terror was focused on her. That’s what haunted me. I was sure she was going to die.

  I never thought it would be Adam.

  ‘Don’t go, Adam. Don’t go.’

  He doesn’t react.

  His eyes are open now but they’re fixed firmly on one spot. His face starts to relax. He’s almost gone.

  I put Mia down on the ground gently, then I cup Adam’s face with my hands and half-crouch, half-lie down, so that my face is in front of his.

  ‘Adam. Look at me. Look at me, now.’ His eyes are open, but he’s not seeing me. The connection isn’t there.

  ‘Adam. Please, please!’

  I lean forward and kiss him gently. His mouth tastes of smoke. He doesn’t kiss me back.

  ‘It’s over,’ someone says.