Watch You Burn

by KA Richardson

  He turned his concentration to his scene notes, sketching a rough diagram and noting the measurements he’d taken from inside. Wrinkling his nose, he realised he could still smell the smoke. It lingered on his clothing, settled on his skin like aftershave. Eau De Blaze – he smiled to himself. Then remembered Edina’s surname, which led him to thinking about her again. He jumped guiltily as she suddenly opened the van door and handed him a copy of her notes.

  ‘I’ll send the official report over by email later. Am I OK sending to the DS or do you need a copy?’

  Flustered, he replied, ‘Sending it to Slater will be fine. He’ll copy me in. Listen, Edina, about the other night –’

  ‘No apologies. It doesn’t matter. Let’s just draw a line under it and chalk it up to experience.’

  She closed the van door with a clunk, and Kev watched as she made her way over to her bike. There was something about a woman in leathers, especially one that looked that good. Sighing, he shook his head. Ship’s sailed on that one. Shouldn’t have been such a tit.

  25th September, 1010 hours - Buxton Moor Crescent, Darlington

  It had been quite by chance that she happened to be in the area at the time the fire had been burning. It had caught her attention immediately, and she'd paused with a group of locals to watch. They were all full of 'who did it' and 'it's not really a shock', but she didn't join in.

  She stood and watched, transfixed as the flames blistered the paint on the front door, causing it to curl and blacken. She didn't know if anyone was inside; frankly she didn't care. She could almost taste the heady smoke as the flame sizzled and spluttered behind the door.

  When the fire brigade had arrived in the street, with their sirens squealing, she'd drawn back into the shadows, almost afraid that they would spot her and see her for the obsessed fire freak she was. That's what her mum had called her, all those years ago when she'd set the kitchen on fire. It still stung now, almost as much as the beating she'd had off her dad when her mum had told him, blamed him for their daughter becoming a freak, ‘not right in the head’ she’d put it. It had been the first time her mum had stood up to her dad, and he'd stood in shock as her mum had yelled in his face.

  He'd stayed calm with her mum for once, talking, not shouting. He was even calm as he'd grabbed his daughter and flung her over his knee, whacking her backside as hard as he could with his open palm.

  Squirming where she stood, she realised she could still almost feel the sting as he caught her just below the bum cheeks. That was the day she had learned to hate her father. From that moment, all his anger turned towards her and not her mother. And it had been all her mum’s fault.

  She felt her anger grow - thinking about her parents always did that.

  Looking up as a motorbike pulled into the street, she decided she'd seen enough. Pulling her hood tighter around her face, she shuffled out of the area. It had definitely given her some ideas, though. Ideas that were filled with bright orange flames, and the screams of the people she hated the most.

  3

  ‘Blaze,’ greeted Chief Fire Officer Derek Talbot coolly.

  Ed flashed him a brief smile and made her way past him to her office at the other end of the building. Closing the door behind her, she leaned her head on the door frame, blinking to stop the threatened invasion of tears. He hated her. They all hated her.

  She’d been in post as the fire investigator for eight months now. Her predecessor had trained her then ran for the hills. In that eight months, she could count on one hand the number of times her exchanges with Talbot had run past four words. The chief blamed her for him losing one of his firefighters – Cameron Webb, or Cam as the guys called him. Talbot would never forgive her for instigating his removal to another station after the sexual harassment case had tipped in her favour. The fact that she’d been injured on duty, due to Cam’s neglect, had fallen by the wayside and been forgotten about. The injury was why she was now a fire investigator – her back was unable to take the strain of running up and down stairs wearing a tank and carrying hoses.

  It didn’t matter though – she knew that she’d always be to blame. She gave herself a shake, reminded herself of why she’d taken the investigator job. It came down to passion. She loved the fire brigade, loved everything about it. The team camaraderie, the feeling that someone always had your back, and the opportunity to help the public. This hadn’t changed despite what had happened with Cam, well except the camaraderie – that wasn’t the same. Never would be.

  As she sat down at her desk, the door clicked open and a small white box appeared around the edge, moving up and down slowly.

  ‘Looked like a pleasant exchange with you and the chief as per usual,’ said Joseph Prentiss, entering the room and closing the door behind him. Sitting down, he held the box out to her, ‘Lynus did a Krispy Kreme run – I bagged you peanut butter dream. You now owe me royally, yes?’

  Ed smiled and reached out her hand. ‘I always owe you for something. One day you’re gunna collect, and I’m gunna be screwed!’

  She opened the box and inhaled the sweet goodness, unable to stop the groan escaping. ‘You, Joey, are an absolute godsend. After the day I’ve had, I needed this.’

  ‘I know, I’m good,’ said Joey smugly. ‘Listen, the lads are meeting at the Cleveland Arms tonight for a few bevvies. You should come, build bridges, show the guys you’re not the stick-in-the-mud they think you are.’

  ‘Nah, you know how it is, Joey. They all hate me.’

  ‘They don’t hate you. They just… well, they don’t get it, you know?’

  ‘It’s not that hard to get, but don’t worry. I’m OK just living in my little bubble.’

  ‘As long as I’m in your bubble too. Sure I can’t tempt you though? We could go hunting tottie after?’

  ‘After my disaster the other night, tottie’s the last thing I need. Besides I thought you and that bloke had hit it off, what was his name again? Anton or something?’

  ‘Antonio – we did. But it turns out he’s married – to a woman! You know I don’t do bi. Gay all the way.’

  Realisation was slow in dawning but Joey’s eyes widened when he registered what she’d said about the disaster. ‘Oh my god, you fucking pulled didn’t you? After I left with Antonio, you went and pulled! What happened? Was he a troll?’

  ‘No, he was nice looking, you cheeky shit,’ Ed sighed, ‘Same old story – he came, he left, he didn’t call. I did see him today though.’

  ‘What? Where? Hope you gave him a piece of your mind.’

  ‘The scene over on the moor. He knows I was pissed. Doesn’t matter anyway. Not like I’m a glutton for punishment. Can’t be arsed with all that crap. Either call or don’t call, but I’m not waiting around.’

  ‘Good on you,’ nodded Joey knowingly. He was just about to leap onto the next subject when the station alarm sounded – ‘gotta run, we’ll take this back up later.’

  Not even giving Ed a chance to reply, he jumped up and sped off to whatever call had just come in.

  Ed poured a coffee, and sat down to her doughnut. If ever a day called for a Krispy Kreme, it was today. Closing her eyes, she bit down on the doughy sweetness, and sighed.

  25th September, 1640 hours – Janelle’s residence, Helmsley Moor Way, Firthmoor Estate, Darlington

  Janelle paused at the gate to her home address, taking in the tatty garden, and the paint peeling from the front door. If her friends knew she lived in this hovel – a council house of all things – they'd turn their nose up in disgust and never speak to her again.

  She and her mum had only been there a couple of months – a far cry from the large detached house they'd lived in before. After years of her stepdad putting up with her mum’s alcohol abuse, he'd snapped, kicking them both out. Janelle blinked the tears from her eyes. She knew she wasn't his flesh and blood, but she wished he hadn't tarred her with the same brush as her mum. She'd thought he loved her. But he hadn't even rung her since they left. Granted it possibly h
ad something to do with the amphetamine he'd found in her room when he’d stormed in the morning he'd kicked them out, but still. It hurt.

  She shrugged her shoulders, pretending that it didn't hurt, that she didn't need her dad anyway. She took two steps up the path towards the door, weeds softening her steps. It had been an emergency placement – even her mother wouldn't have been seen dead on this estate if she'd had a choice. But the council said it was here or an even shittier B&B near the town centre – the kind of place the paedophiles and people getting out of jail were placed because it was the only place stupid enough to take them in.

  Her mother had cried as she signed the lease, then promptly bought the cheapest, nastiest bottle of vodka from the shop and proceeded to get completely off her face.

  Her mum’s drinking had worsened since they'd moved in. Along with the deluge of slurred speech came never ending insults, slaps and scratching, and blame towards Janelle for where they'd ended up. Given half the chance, and enough money, she'd have moved out. But the uni halls were already full and she couldn't afford to live on her own - not if she wanted to go on using her precious student loans to keep her in the lifestyle she was accustomed to.

  Janelle sighed loudly as she pushed the front door, hoping that her mum was passed out from whatever she'd managed to find to drink. Jeremy Kyle blared from the TV in the lounge – her mum was obsessed with daytime shows.

  But she wasn't asleep or passed out. Janelle threw her hands up in defence as her mum raked her face with sharp nails, screaming that she was a waste of space, and a whore. Janelle was stronger than her mum, though – she grabbed her arms and shouted back at her.

  'Mum, calm the hell down. I can't cope with this shit day in and day out.'

  'You're pathetic,' snapped her mum, struggling against Janelle's grasp briefly before collapsing against her and dissolving into floods of tears. 'You left me alone again. I'm always alone.'

  It was all Janelle could do to get her mum back to the couch and seated.

  'Calm down, Mum. I'll go get you some tea, beans on toast, eh?'

  Her mum nodded, her sobs subsiding to hiccups as she picked up the glass in front of her and took a slurp.

  Janelle sighed again as she went through into the kitchen, pulled out one of only three pans, and cracked open a tin of smart price beans. It only took minutes for her to scoop the warmed beans onto a couple of slices of overdone toast and mix in a crushed sleeping tablet. She handed it to her mum who was back to being obsessed with the show on the small TV. She left her mum to it, knowing she'd soon pass out and be that way for the rest of the evening. She grabbed her Gucci handbag, swapped her Primark plimsoles for her Ugg boots, and left the house. Going anywhere would be better than staying at home.

  25th September, 1645 hours - Helmsley Moor Way, Firthmoor, Darlington

  She couldn't stop the smile spreading widely across her face as she watched Janelle from behind the large tree on the small green at the bottom of the street. Janelle Spencer living in a council house, and on what was known as a shitty estate no less. She knew she could be wrong, Janelle might just as easily have been visiting someone, but seeing the heavy tread of her footsteps as she'd gone up the path, she just knew Janelle lived there.

  'Stupid bitch, for years she's taken the piss out of me for living where I live. It's about time she got her comeuppance. This has gone on long enough. It's time to take them all down.' Her voice sounded foreign to her, almost as if it belonged to someone else. The same as the voice in her head - the one telling her over and over to kill Janelle Spencer. Some days it was so loud it was deafening, so hard to ignore. She found herself dreaming about the different ways to rid the world of Janelle and her friends, knowing that it would make all their lives so much easier to bear.

  Once again karma had put her in the right place at the right time. The fire had been in the next street over, and she hadn't been able to pull herself away from the area yet. She'd found a bus shelter just on the corner, and had perched on the bench inside for hours. Seeing Janelle had been almost like a slap to the face, and she had found herself hiding behind the shelter as Janelle had walked past. Hiding like a complete idiot. She shouldn't have to feel like that. It wasn't right for one person to be able to instill such fear in another.

  But the years of abuse and bullying had left her with little option. She'd had it all over the years. Bruises to her shins and ankles, broken fingers from being pushed into walls, chunks pulled out of her hair, even a bad concussion on one occasion. And no one understood, no one except her two friends. They'd had it as bad every step of the way. It wasn't fair.

  That was why she knew she had to do it - it wasn't just for her. Her friends deserved a life of not living in constant fear too. She'd been watching Janelle and the others for some time now. She knew their secrets, things she was sure they didn't even know about each other. And she intended to use what she knew to execute her plan. First on her list was Greg Peacock, with his smarmy smile and overly gropey hands – well she’d always thought of them as that way. With his leery smile whenever he glanced in the direction of her and her friends – she was sure given half the chance his hands would wander.

  She watched Janelle leave, and thoughtfully boarded the next bus that came along.

  It was time.

  25th September, 1910 hours – Carmel Road Cemetery, Darlington

  Kevin sat on the bench in the memorial garden not far from the crematorium. He’d already laid the lilies on the square of grass that used to be a flower bed. It had been when Madge’s funeral had been held anyway. Somewhere along the way, the care taker had dug up the roses and planted grass seed. But he still knew the spot – always would. He’d strewn her ashes there. He’d never forget where they were scattered.

  Madge, his wife, had died from cancer three years before. Her final request to have her ashes spread where her parents had been buried – Darlington. It had been three years to the day that he’d gone to the bar seeking solace in booze, and had met Edina in fact. She’d been the first woman he’d been with since Madge had died. He’d been drunk, granted, or he probably wouldn’t have even approached her.

  Madge would have been appalled at his behaviour – she’d always maintained she fell in love with a true gentleman, often said he was a dying breed. But he hadn’t been with Edina – she saw him as a scumbag, and if he was honest, that’s how he felt. Instead of being honest with her that he felt lonely and missed his wife, he’d treated her badly and quite rightly she now hated him.

  His eyes filled with tears as he sat silently on the bench, lost in thought. Life wasn’t fair. He and Madge had been friends in school, it had progressed to romance in college and they’d been that fairytale couple that everyone talked about. They’d rarely argued, had stuff in common without living in each other’s pocket, and had been looking forward to raising a family together. Then Madge found out she had cancer. An aggressive form that wasn’t curable. In the space of nine weeks, he’d gone from being happily married, to caring for his ill wife, to a widower.

  He still missed her every single day.

  And now he felt guilty too, like he’d cheated on her somehow. Hanging his head, he closed his eyes, let the peace in the cemetery wash over him. He’d stay for a while longer. They kept the gates open until 8pm anyway – as long as he was out by then he’d be fine. Here his mind would rest, albeit temporarily. At home it was like a train, running constantly at a hundred miles an hour. Right now, he needed the solitude.

  26th September, 0910 hours – Darlington University Campus

  Heather stood in the corridor waiting for the lecturer to finish the morning introduction. She felt like a sullen teenager. Seeing her hand, Trevor had told her to wait for him outside. She could tell by the look on his face that it wouldn’t be good.

  ‘Heather,’ he greeted as he closed the lecture hall door behind him with a click. ‘As you know, today is a practical session involving gas chromatography and its uses. I don’t think you
can manage with your hand the way it is. I could put you with a partner but I’d rather you were doing the work yourself as it forms part of your grades. So I suggest we pop you into group three – they’re scheduled for the practical in a few weeks’ time which would mean you wouldn’t miss it. They’re on assignment this week.’

  ‘But I want to stay in this group – Susie and Chloe are in this group – if I move –’

  ‘It’s a good exercise to show you can get on with other people, not just your friends. If you need any help, just ask, but I think this is the best bet to give you every possible chance of success.’

  Heather was aware she was staring at him helplessly. Trevor had always seemed fair to her – well, until now anyway. He knew she’d do it, not because she was happy about it, but because she knew when she wasn’t presented with a whole lot of choice.

  ‘Fine,’ she muttered. ‘Where do I need to go?’

  ‘Caulder Building, room 15. If you’re quick, you won’t have missed much.’

  Heather tugged her bag over her shoulder and turned away. Why couldn’t anything ever go right? She’d been looking forward to getting the hated chemistry experiments done with Susie and Chloe, not just because they were her friends, but because both of them were amazing at chemistry. She knew her stuff, but it took a lot of studying: they just knew it instinctively. She knew she’d have got a fab grade working with them. Now she’d have to start over with people she didn’t know and would most likely end up hating.

  Sighing, she made her way along the corridor towards the entrance. Her head was down, and she was busy stewing over being moved groups. She didn’t see Janelle until she turned the corner and barrelled into her. Janelle flew backwards and landed on her backside with a loud ‘umph.’

  Heather couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her face – Janelle was sprawled on the floor, flashing her knickers to the world. Typically, there was no one but her around to see but still, it amused her.