Chapter 16
Fay was relieved to hear a knock at her bedroom door. It meant that Morwen was up and about.
She would know what to do. That time that the container ship had wrecked itself against the rocks she had known exactly how to respond.
“Come in!” said Fay.
Morwen burst in wearing a robe over her nightgown. “It’s a fire on one of the farms up Mountain View Road.”
“What can we do to help?”
“We can keep everyone fed and hydrated. Penrose House normally supplies the first responders with food and water during these emergencies. Luckily, I replenished our stores after the shipwreck.”
“Do we have enough water? We’ll need a lot of it for the fire fighters.”
“There are crates of bottled water in the garage. If you can load them into the Land Rover, I’ll bring the food supplies.”
“What about the fire department?” asked Fay. “Can they cope with this? Don’t they only have one fire truck?”
“It depends how big the fire is. There’s been a lot of rain the last few days, so the fire isn’t likely to run out of control. On a farm, once the humans are safe, the biggest danger is to the stock and the crops.”
Fay’s blood ran cold as she thought of terrified animals penned in and unable to escape from the oncoming flames. “Is there nothing we can do to help fight the fire itself?”
“We’ll grab all the buckets we can find and take them along. These high-lying farms usually have their own dams and reservoirs. We can form a human chain and pass buckets of water along.” Morwen’s phone buzzed in her hand and she glanced at it. “It’s Baines Farm that’s on fire. Their lower field is burning, as well as a little copse of trees quite close to the house.”
Fay frowned, trying to remember the layout of the farm. “Those two locations are quite far apart.”
“Yes, they are. But fires can jump. So, let’s get moving. I promised we’d be there as quickly as we could.”
She departed as abruptly as she had arrived, leaving Fay to throw on a pair of jeans and a jacket and to shove her feet into a pair of rubber boots. The crates of bottled water were exactly where Morwen had said they would be. They were heavy but Fay managed to heave them onto the back of the Land Rover. She found four plastic buckets in the garage and tossed those into the back too. Then she jumped behind the wheel and took off in the direction of Mountain View Road as fast as she could. In her rearview mirror, she could see Morwen following in her own car with the boxes of food supplies.
It was clear that many islanders had responded to the call of the siren. The village was a whirl of unaccustomed activity and light. Several vehicles were already on their way up Tintagel Mountain. Fay couldn’t see any sign of the fire truck and assumed that it must already be on the scene.
The first thing that struck her as she got to the farm was how well organized everything was. She had noticed this on the night of the shipwreck too. Everyone seemed to know exactly what they should be doing. There was none of that running around like headless chickens that she associated with civilians in emergency situations.
As she pulled up, two of the farm hands arrived to help her carry the crates of bottled water to where the fire fighters were battling the blaze at the copse of trees near the house. A strong onshore wind was sweeping the island from the south-east as it often did at this time of night. It was blowing the flames directly towards the Baines farmhouse. The island’s only fire truck, combined with its small crew of full-time and volunteer fire fighters, made a puny barrier between the house and the flames that were leaping through the old-growth trees thirty feet in the air.
The fire chief, Jon Barlow, nodded at Fay as she dumped her crate next to the fire truck.
“Thanks for that. This heat is unbelievable. My people will need to drink soon. If you can open the bottles and hand them around, that will be a big help. And if you can also collect them again afterwards, so we don’t leave any plastic lying around, we would be very grateful.”
“Sure.”
Fay spent the next hour handing out bottles of water to the sweaty, grimy men and women manning the water hoses so that they could drink without leaving their posts. Most of them downed the bottles of water as fast as she could hand them out. Only once she had been up and down the line three times did the fire fighters start handing her back bottles with water still left in them.
“What can I do now?” she asked the chief.
“You can go and join the bucket line at lower field.” He glanced at her feet. “Since you’re wearing the right boots, you can also join the people stomping out cinders all over the farm. But if you see an active blaze, come back and report it. Don’t try to put it out yourself.”
Fay gave him a salute. “You got it, Chief.”
The first person she saw when she got to lower field and joined the bucket line was Maria Baines with her three adult children swinging the buckets from hand to hand in an unbroken rhythm. Her face was so ravaged with worry that Fay wondered if there had been any casualties she didn’t know about yet.
“Is everyone okay so far?” she asked as she accepted a bucket from Maria and swung it on to the next person.
“Yes, everyone’s fine. There were some cases of superficial burns and smoke inhalation, but nothing serious. The Dyers are here, treating people up at the house. It’s the stock I’m worried about.” She paused to catch her breath. Swinging buckets full of water was exhausting work. “This wind is causing the flames to play leapfrog all over the farm. Soon I’ll have to make a decision about whether to keep the animals penned in for their own safety or to let them out so they can flee the fire. Either way, a lot of animals are going to die. This is hill country. There are cliffs and trenches all over the place.”
“That’s awful. I’m so sorry this has happened to you. Do you have any idea how the fire got started?”
Even in the uncertain glow of the firelight, Fay could see Maria’s lips tightening. “I guess someone was being careless again.”
Fay would have liked to ask for more details, but it was obviously a sensitive subject. She decided to save her breath for heaving buckets.
The line of buckets seemed endless and the difference they were making disappointingly small. Then a surge of new arrivals joined the line and it became clear that some people would have to drop out.
“Would you mind joining the crew that is looking for flare-ups?” Maria asked Fay. “You’re wearing the right boots for it and it’s one of the most important jobs. If this fire can be contained until morning, it will be a blessing. There’s rain forecast for six o’clock.”
So, Fay went to look for the fireman who was in charge of directing the people looking for flare-ups. She was surprised to see that it was Duncan McCloud – Maggie Binnie’s boyfriend. He had started his apprenticeship to become an electrician just a couple of months earlier.
“Evening, Duncan.” She glanced at her watch. “Or rather, good morning. I didn’t know you moonlighted as a fire fighter.”
His smile was as sweet as ever. “Hi, Fay. I signed up when I started my apprenticeship. They’ve given me some great training. I figured if I’m going to be working with electricity, I should know how to contain and extinguish fires. Are you looking to join the flare-up crew?”
“I am. Mrs. Baines is terrified of the fire reaching her stock.”
“We’re doing everything we can to prevent that. The fire truck just went and dumped the last of their water in front of the main barns and pastures to discourage the fire from jumping. The trouble is that the flames are burning so hot that any moisture is being scorched away almost as soon as we can lay it down. Still, the forecast is for rain later, so we’re hopeful.”
“What can I do?” asked Fay.
“Look out for any signs of burning and just stomp it to death. You need a sharp eye, though. Sometimes it’s no more than a glow under the turf.”
“Find and stomp. Got it.”
“Anythin
g bigger than a smoldering cinder you need to throw sand on first before stomping it. You can pick up a shovel over there. They’re light but effective.”
“Which direction should I head in?”
“The fowls are kept over there.” Duncan pointed. “The Baineses have hens, ducks and geese. Their enclosures aren’t directly in the line of the fire so I haven’t sent anyone over there yet, but it would be good if you could give that area a thorough check.”
“Will do.”
Fay grabbed a shovel and strode off in the direction of the duck pond.
At first, she came across several burning patches that needed to be shoveled and stomped. She sought them out, looking for the tell-tale orange glow tucked under the surface layer of dirt.
As she shoveled what felt like her hundredth scoop of sand onto a flare-up, Fay dragged the back of her wrist across her forehead. It came away wet and dirty. She knew she must look a sight. The chilly, near-freezing temperatures of the fall pre-dawn didn’t seem to touch her. She was sweating through her clothes.
The closer she got to the barns that housed the fowl, the rarer the flare-ups became. Soon, she couldn’t find any at all and she was still a few hundred feet from the barns and the pond. It seemed that the Baines fowls were safe for now.
Fay walked closer to make sure she wasn’t missing something. The birds were clearly restless. They could smell the smoke and detect the commotion on the farm. The chorus of clucking, honking, and quacking intensified as she got closer. A rooster began to crow, even though first light was still hours away.
“Yes, okay, hush. I’m not carrying any food. I’m just checking that you guys are okay.”
She cupped her hands around her eyes and pressed them to the glass of one of the windows. Unsurprisingly, she could see nothing. It was pitch dark inside the barn.
A snuffling sound made her leap about a foot into the air. It sounded like a human cough. Fay stood still and listened.
Another snuffling sound made all the hairs on her arms stand up.
“Who is that? Who’s there?” There was a sigh and a sound of sand being scuffed around. It seemed to be coming from around the corner.
“Hello?” Fay stepped closer, suddenly aware of how isolated she was. The firefighters and volunteers were now a considerable distance away.
As she rounded the corner of the barn, Fay saw a figure slumped on the ground, leaning against the barn. It seemed to be a man, but it was too dark to tell. The faint illumination caused by starlight had disappeared as clouds drew across the sky. The closer Fay got, the more the smell of stale alcohol pricked her nostrils.
She took out her phone and switched on the flashlight. Taking care not to shine it into his eyes, she brought the beam closer to his face.
“Mr. Baines,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
Chapter 17
More snuffling and coughing sounds emanated from the heap at Fay’s feet.
They sounded almost like sobs. Danny Baines held something in his right hand, cradled against his chest. It looked like a brown paper bag. Fay strongly suspected that there was a bottle of whiskey inside it.
“Mr. Baines?” she said again.
When he finally spoke, it was so loudly that Fay fell back a step. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”
“What is your fault, Mr. Baines?”
Everything … everything …” He swung his head from side to side like a horse with indigestion. “We’re going to lose the farm. Thought I could save us. Sell off the lower fields. They was just sitting there … doing nothing. Maria wouldn’t hear of it. Short-sighted.” Fay had to lean in close to catch what he was saying. Having started off shouting, he was now mumbling so softly she could barely hear.
“The farm is in financial trouble?”
“That’s what they tell me. Could’ve … raised the capital by selling land. It’s good land … fertile. Maria wouldn’t hear of it.”
“She believed that wasn’t the answer?”
He nodded drunkenly. “Said … it’s our duty to keep the land whole for … for future generations. I say … what’s the use of keeping the land whole if … if there’ll be no farm to pass on?”
He raised the paper bag to his lips and took a long swallow. Unsurprisingly, it did nothing to clear his head. His slurring became worse.
“Bank gonna … foreclose. Maria wouldn’t … listen to reason. What else was I … to do? Had no choice … none.”
It took Fay a moment to realize that the cold feeling on the back of her neck was caused by rain. It was a fine drizzle that was barely detectable. The fire would shrug it off like it wasn’t even there, but at least it was a start.
“Look, Mr. Baines.” She waved a hand in the air. “It’s starting to rain. If this keeps up, it’ll put out the fire.”
He raised his booze-raddled face to hers. “The fire? Thought that was … a bad dream.”
“It’s real, Mr. Baines. Your wife is out there right now swinging buckets of water alongside your children to keep the flames away from the stock.”
Fay heard the judgment in her own voice. She took a deep breath. This man had problems. It wasn’t her place to judge what she didn’t understand.
He hung his head and the snuffling noises increased. “It was me … all my fault.”
“What do you mean, Mr. Baines? Are you talking about the fire?”
“Went outside for a bit of a smoke and a … and a drink. I’m entitled, I am. Work hard all day. Maria doesn’t … understand.”
“What does that have to do with the fire?”
“Must’ve … fallen asleep for li’l bit. They say my cigarette caused the fire … with li’l bit spilled whiskey.”
Fay remembered what Maria had said about someone’s carelessness having started the blaze.
“You should probably go back to the house, sir. You can’t stay out here in the rain.” The drops were falling more heavily now, soaking Fay’s jeans and sneaking down the back of her neck. “At least the stock will be safe now. This rain should put out the fire.”
Danny Baines tried to rise but ended up rolling over onto all fours. As he struggled to get his balance, they heard a voice in the distance.
“Mr. Baines! … Mr. Baines! … Where are you?”
“We’re over here!” Fay shouted. There was the sound of running footsteps and a man appeared out of the gloom. He was wearing Baines Farm overalls. His face was streaked with ash and grime. As he got closer, Fay recognized him as the man who had come in to ask Maria Baines about what to plant in the lower field.
“You’re Bob, aren’t you?” she asked.
He barely glanced at her. All his attention was on his boss. “That’s right. But what is he doing here? What has he been saying?”
“He said …” She hesitated. “He said that he started the fire.”
Bob made an exasperated sound. “Why must he go blabbing like that? Now everyone will think it’s an insurance scam.”
“It sounded to me more like an accident.”
“Damned carelessness. You don’t know what she has to put up with - what he has put her through.”
“If you’re talking about Mrs. Baines, she’s a strong lady. I reckon she can handle herself.”
Bob shook his head, his lips folded tightly together.
“He needs help getting back to the house,” said Fay. “He needs someone to put him to bed and check on him regularly. He’s pretty far gone.”
“Him!” Bob snorted. “He’ll be fine. This happens every night. He’s not the one you have to worry about.”
Danny Baines swayed on his hands and knees. “I can … I can hear you.”
“Get up, sir.” Bob wrapped his arms around him and hauled him to his feet. “Let’s get you home.”
The paper bag with the whiskey bottle in it slipped from Danny’s grasp and landed on the ground. Gurgling sounds seemed to indicate that it was running out into the soil. Danny made an anguished sound, but Bob kept walking.
Fay and Morwen didn’t even try going back to bed when they got home. It was already approaching six o’clock. They showered off the ash and soot they had picked up and hit their stations in the kitchen to start preparing breakfast.
The first thing Fay did was put on a pot of strong coffee to brew. “I’m just glad I managed to get four hours of solid sleep before that siren went off.”
“And I got closer to six hours because I went to bed early,” said Morwen. “Mind you, I still feel as though I’ve been run over by a bus.”
“Me too. That was hard physical labor. But we’re not the only ones. Half the village must have turned out to help the Baineses.”
“It’s the island way.” Morwen cracked eggs into a bowl with one hand while scrolling through her phone with the other. “Okay, Jon Barlow just confirmed that he has completed his inspection and the fire is definitely out.”
“I’m not surprised. An inferno couldn’t keep going in this weather.” Fay glanced out the window into the courtyard where the rain was sheeting down. “I’m just glad we managed to contain the damage and prevent it from reaching the livestock before the rain began.”
Morwen began to beat the eggs. “Yes. Thank goodness for that.”
They worked in silence, going through the familiar motions of getting a delicious breakfast ready for their guests and for themselves. A good meal and a couple of cups of coffee revived them both.
“Have you heard anything about how the fire might have got started?” Fay pulled her muffins out of the oven and slid the ever-popular pumpkin pies in after them.
Morwen pulled a face. “I have, but it’s a rather ugly rumor so I’d rather not spread it around. It’s completely unconfirmed.”
“It sounds like the same story I heard a few hours ago. Does your story involve Danny Baines?”
“And a bottle of whiskey...”
“And a lit cigarette,” said Fay. “Yes, that’s the one.”
“I knew he’d been drinking heavily, but I had no idea it had got so bad. If this turns out to be true, I’ll be worried about the state of their marriage. I don’t know how you forgive something like that.”
The Cat That Got the Cream Page 10