Cancer.
The reason for everything. Six months ago one of the girls at the library told me of a room available in her house share that was within my budget and perfect for me. I could still afford to pass on a little of my wages to Mam but I’d finally be able to break free. After two days of tears, arguments and recriminations Mam admitted the reason why I couldn’t leave. She’d found a lump on her breast that was diagnosed as malignant. She was a private woman who hadn’t wanted to share something so personal, but between the hours she did at the Bingo hall and her regular radiotherapy sessions, she had little energy to run a house as well. So I stayed. Willing her to get better and feeling guilty for always wondering when I’d be free.
“It’s only for one-day Mam. I’ll be back to my regular hours tomorrow. Besides, there’s a casserole already made up in the fridge. All you have to do is pop it in the oven for an hour, and I’ll do the dishes as soon as I’m home,” I explained.
“And will they be paying you extra for these hours?” she asked.
“I’m salaried so I don’t think so, but I’m sure my supervisor will give me time off in lieu another afternoon when they have more staff on. Maybe I could get an afternoon off, then I could help you out at the Bingo hall and come with you to one of your radiotherapy sessions,” I suggested, hoping it might appease her.
“I don’t think so Evelyn. You’ll only get under my feet at work and goodness knows I have enough to do there without taking care of you as well. And you already know my feelings about my treatment. It’s an intensely personal experience and I’d be grateful if you’d respect my privacy. If you want to make yourself useful, you could do a little more around the house,” she replied. I bit my tongue to stop myself from asking what more I could do, given that I did all the cooking and the cleaning on top of my own job and volunteer work.
“Okay Mam. Well, I’d better get back to work, but I’ll see you when I get home this evening,” I said.
“By the time you get home, I’ll be in bed Evelyn. It’s ridiculous to have to go the whole day without seeing my own daughter, but there it is I suppose. The Lord sends me these trials to strengthen me,” she answered. “Make sure you lock up properly when you come in. Goodbye.”
“I will. Bye Mam,” I said, but I was already talking to a dialling tone.
“God give me strength,” I whispered, as I gently replaced the receiver. I had no doubt that I’d have an earful tomorrow about working late, but it was worth it.
The hours flew by far too quickly for my liking and all too soon it was closing time. Knowing that Mam would already be in bed when I got home meant that I wasn’t in any hurry to leave. So when Beryl, my supervisor, had been worrying over missing her bus, I offered to lock up.
“Are you sure? I really don’t want to put on you, especially as you’ve already done me a favour covering a shift, but it’s my friend’s birthday today and I’d really love to pop in and see her on my way home,” she explained, a little flustered.
“Of course I don’t mind. I wanted to put some of the children’s books back in order before I leave anyway. I won’t be far behind you,” I assured her.
“Thank you so much Evie, you’re a diamond.” When she left, I locked the door behind her and turned off most of the lights. There was always someone who tried the door after the library closed if they were left on, despite the opening times being posted on the front in large letters. After sorting the last of the books, I went to the staff room to grab my bag and coat when a thought occurred to me. Why spend money unnecessarily in a coffee shop somewhere, when I could steal an hour here? Having resolved to do just that, I turned off the last of the lights in the main library, made myself a cup of tea, slipped off my shoes and curled up in a comfortable, if not slightly threadbare chair.
I was so engrossed in my book I didn’t notice the time, or hear the crackle of fire. Only when the words before me began to blur did I realise that the room was filling up with smoke.
Racing to the door I opened it slightly, realising instantly that I’d made a terrible mistake. The heavy fire door had kept the blaze at bay and starved it of the precious oxygen inside. When I broke the seal, a rush of smoke and burning gases blew the door wide open and knocked me to the ground. My lungs felt as though they were on fire and gasping for breath, I kicked out blindly, pushing it as hard as I could until I heard it shut with a click.
The panic was overwhelming. Between coughing and gasping to breathe, I didn’t know what to do. The room was internal with only one way in and out. I was trapped. With shaking hands, I crawled on my hands and knees to the sink. Grabbing a tea towel, I ran water over it to soak it, then pressed it against my mouth. I didn’t know if it was doing any good, but the cold wetness against my face helped calm me. When the lights in the room flickered, then went out, a new wave of panic washed over me. The only visible light came from the window above the door.
I couldn’t make out a thing in the smoke filled haze, but I remembered there was a landline on the other side of the room. Knowing that hot air rises, I kept as low as possible and crawled as best I could with one hand pressing the towel against my mouth. When my hand hit brick, I realised that I’d crawled right under the table where the phone was. Reaching up, I tapped around blindly until I found what I was looking for. When my hand hit plastic, I grabbed the phone and brought it down. I dropped the towel so that I could dial and hold the receiver, and my body was wracked with a cough as a wave of dirty smoke entered my lungs. When I heard a dialling tone, I was relieved beyond belief to still have a lifeline. Skating my hand over the buttons, I worked out which one I thought was a nine, and pressed it three times.
“Nine, nine, nine. Which Emergency Service do you require?” said a woman’s voice from the other end of the line.
“Fire. Custom House Library. I’m trapped inside the staff room and the fire is on the other side of the door. Please come quickly,” I croaked as quickly as I could, before the coughing resumed. Bringing the towel back up to my face, I listened for a voice that let me know I wasn’t alone, only to hear silence. The phone line had gone dead.
Curling up into the foetal position, I realised I had put myself in this predicament. If I hadn’t greedily wanted an extra hour, my mother would have alerted someone the minute I was late home. Or better yet I’d have missed the fire altogether. Instead, I did the only thing I could. I closed my eyes and prayed.
I don’t know how many times I recited the Lord’s prayer, until I realised that the voice in my head wasn’t the only one I could hear. I tried to call out, but the thick, acrid air stole my cries. The shouting and banging became louder, but it was too late. I couldn’t hold on any longer. My eyes drifted closed, and I slipped into the oblivion.
Chapter Three
TOMMY
“I think this is it,” Hammer said over the microphone of the breathing apparatus sets we wore. Luckily, the fire station was only a couple of miles up the road so it took us minutes to get there. But it might well have been minutes too late. The tightly packed books should’ve been slow to burn, but the place was blazing out of control. We had near zero visibility, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that persons trapped had been reported, we never would’ve set foot inside.
“I don’t like the look of this boys.” Houston’s voice said down the radio. “We’ve got hose reels on you from both sides, but it’s not working.”
“We think we’ve hit the staff room. Can you give us a couple of minutes to do a quick sweep before we evac?” I asked. I knew it would gut me later to know that I’d come so close, only to leave someone behind. But you didn’t fuck about when the officer in charge sent down an order. It wasn’t just my life I’d be risking by staying, it was Hammer’s.
“You’ve got sixty seconds Tommy. Get in and get out,” she ordered, curtly.
Not wasting a second, I pushed my way through the door, ignoring the flames creeping over the ceiling above me.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” I
shouted. The silence was ominous, but I knew from the minute the engine had pulled up outside and we’d seen how bad things were, that there was a good chance that whoever had called this in was dead. Knowing my time was limited, we made a right hand sweep of the room, both of us coming up empty. I was about to exit when my boot knocked against something on the floor. Crouching down I realised it was a hand belonging to a woman who was lying unconscious under the table.
“Fuck,” I muttered, praying to God that she wasn’t already dead.
“You found someone?” Hammer asked.
“Yeah. She’s under the table,” I responded.
“You wanna get her arms and I’ll carry her legs?” he asked. Long gone were the days when firefighters hoisted victims over their back. Breathing sets made that almost as impossible as the Health and Safety guys who worried we’d put our backs out. It was on the tip of my tongue to agree with him, when Houston’s voice came shouting down the radio again.
“Evac now boys. Get out as quickly as you can. The roof is going,” she ordered.
“Fuck it,” I said. Instinctively, and without giving myself a second to think, I yanked the woman forcibly out from under the table, and wedging one arm under her back and the other under her legs, I hoisted her up. As I followed Hammer to the exit, my laboured breathing echoed through my mask. Adrenaline pumped through my body as an unearthly creak sounded above us. The noise was absolutely fucking terrifying.
“Ruuun!” Hammer screamed, panic clouding his voice. The closer we came to the entrance, the faster I moved. At some point in fires like this, the fight or flight mentality kicks in. The instinct for survival, more primal than any other human drive. The creak became an avalanche of crashes as the roof collapsed, taking the suspended ceilings with them. A timber clipped the back of my heel at the doorway, throwing off my centre of balance and I stumbled, gripping the girl tighter against my chest as I tried to regain my footing.
“It’s okay. We’ve got her,” Mase said once I was free, trying to relieve me of my burden.
“I’m good,” I replied. “Just let me get her to an ambulance. Grabbing hold of my elbow, he led me to a waiting gurney. It was only as I laid her down and wrenched off my mask that I realised who she was. Her pale, lily-white skin was blackened from the smoke, but I’d recognise that beautiful, fiery red hair anywhere. For a few brief, precious seconds, her eyelids fluttered open.
“Hey,” she whispered, croakily, as her disorientated eyes met mine. I had no idea if she recognised me, but she slipped into unconsciousness just as quickly as she had woken.
The paramedic shouldered me out of the way, as he struggled to get an oxygen mask on her.
“Is she gonna be okay?” I asked, feeling completely fucking inadequate, as she lay there, so fragile looking.
“I’ve got a pulse, but she’s inhaled a lot of smoke. I need to get her to the emergency room. We’ll know more once we’re there,” he said. Without waiting for a response, he and his partner manoeuvred the gurney towards the ambulance. Turning away, I pulled off my gloves and raced over to Houston.
“Boss, I need to get in that ambulance. I know the victim. She’s a friend of mine and she’s in a bad way,” I blurted out, desperate to get back to her. Houston thought for a moment before nodding.
“I’ll call control and get the truck taken off the run. Go with her in the ambulance and I’ll send one of the boys down in the van to pick you up,” she said. I nodded my thanks, but didn’t waste any more words before dumping my kit in the truck and racing back to Evie, just in time to hop into the back of the ambulance before the paramedic closed the doors.
The shrill siren was deafening, and the antiseptic smell almost made me gag. It wasn’t that long ago I’d been in her shoes. Speeding to the hospital and fighting for my life. Lost for any way to help, to let Evie know I was with her, I reached out and threaded my thick calloused fingers through hers.
My racing mind flashed back to the moment I first saw her, across the room in Brady’s Bar. I thought she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. Right up until she kneed me in the balls. Telling Houston we were friends was a fairly big stretch of the truth. In reality, we weren’t even close to being friends. The prettiest girl I’d ever seen, the one responsible for my instant pussy amnesia, fucking hated me. Or at least I thought she did, until I realised that she’d been visiting me in hospital.
I’d been dumb struck the moment her eyes met mine. And when I finally managed to take my balls out of my mouth and strike up a conversation, she sucker-punched me right to the heart. She had the softest voice with the cutest Irish lilt and the reddest, most beautiful hair I’d ever sniffed. That’s right, I’d fucking sniffed it. I couldn’t help myself. Skin like the palest milk and a beautiful dusting of freckles across her nose. She was shy and quiet. Understated, not flashy. And the complete opposite of my usual type. She was my unicorn pussy. The one, magical, once-in-a lifetime woman that made me forget that any other chick existed. And she smelt like fucking rainbows. We chatted, I charmed, she blushed and I fell.
Hook.
Line.
And sinker.
It was the best hour of my life, and at the end of it, everything went to shit. I could see it happening as the blonde with the big tits and a mouth that could suck like a vacuum cleaner, sashayed her arse towards our table, arm in arm with her friend.
“Hey Tommy,” she said, pouting lips that were painted Barbie pink. I remember how much I’d liked the colour when they’d been wrapped around my cock a few hours earlier. It was funny how they grossed me out now that I’d met Evelyn. Actually, it wasn’t funny at all. It was a cluster fuck waiting to happen. It wasn’t the girl’s fault. Alison? Angela? Whatever her name had been. She’d been fun and free spirited and just as eager for a no-strings-attached, good time as I’d been. I was grossed out because I knew that colour would always remind me of the moment Evie slipped through my fingers. I knew it, even before it happened.
“Hey,” I replied, croakily.
“So, I was talking to my friend Tanya about how much fun you and I had in the bathroom earlier, and I wondered how you’d feel if she joined us?” she said, biting her bottom lip in a way that I guess was meant to turn me on. Instead, my balls shrivelled up inside me, and I knew then they must have clairvoyant powers.
“You have a girlfriend!” Evie exclaimed. It was so fucking cute the way she stood up and stamped her foot, but I didn’t think she’d appreciate me pointing that out.
“I’m so terribly sorry. We were just talking. I had no idea he was in a relationship,” Evie protested, rambling on a mile a minute to the hook-up who’d just offered me a threesome. I’m sure there must have been something intelligent I could have said that maybe could have salvaged the shit show this was becoming, but I was fucked if I could think of it. If I explained that she wasn’t my girlfriend and that I’d only met her that night, I’d also have to explain why I’d let her blow me in a public bathroom. And I had a feeling that would go down like a lead balloon. So I stood there. Like a fish out of water, with my mouth hanging open, as I begged my brain to reengage.
“Honey, you are too sweet. Tommy isn’t my boyfriend, though he’s welcome to the job if he wants it,” the hook-up said, winking at me playfully. “We were just having a little fun that’s all. You know, you’re kind of sweet. A little uptight maybe, but you’re definitely rocking the school teacher vibe. Why don’t you join us?”
Evie visibly stiffened, and clutched the sides of her cardigan together as though she were in actually, physical danger of being pounced upon. Turning abruptly to face me, the sweet little sparrow was gone, and in her place was a spitfire. She was magnificent. Scary as all fuck, but magnificent. The club lights caught her hair and it looked like liquid fire. She was breath-taking.
“Is that what you’ve been doing this whole time? Grooming me for group sex?” she asked. Women who shout are scary. Women who hand you your balls without even raising their voice, are fuckin
g terrifying.
I’m sure my eyes were saying ‘no, of course not,’ but my mouth was saying fuck all. Taking my silence as confirmation, she placed both hands on my shoulders and kneed me straight between the legs. I dropped to my knees like a stone, and squealed like a pig. All in all, not my finest moment. I’ll give her this though, she knew how to make an exit. Thanking the hook-up politely for the kind offer and wishing her and her friend a pleasant evening, she picked up her bag and strolled confidently out of the bar. Head held high and with the eyes of every man she passed on her arse. An arse that would’ve been mine if I’d remembered how to formulate actual sentences.
I’d seen her a few times since then and fuck knows I’d tried to make things right, but the woman was having none of it. She was stubborn as a mule. After a while, I stopped feeling sorry, and started feeling pissed. Who was she to turn me down? I was womankind’s gift from fucking God, and if she didn’t want me, it was her loss. She knew literally nothing about me, and she judged me anyway. So I put her out of my mind, and told myself I was better off. That I’d dodged a bullet. That her shitty opinion of me was a sign from God that she couldn’t be as epically fucking perfect as I’d imagined her to be.
And then the accident.
Months of operations, hospitals beds and physiotherapy followed by training, training and more training. All of it leading up to being reinstated back to active service and getting my life back. And I was so close. There was only one hurdle left I hadn’t been able to overcome. One thing that I was powerless to make right. And just when I’d broken down and asked God for help, he sent me my own personal ball breaker. Sometimes, God has a fucked up way of answering prayers.
The journey to the hospital was mercifully quick, but it worried me that Evie hadn’t woken up once. As a kid, I’d bet she’d been full of mischief and magic. A wild, untamed spirit. But something, or someone, had changed that. Other people saw a prissy little good girl. I saw a firefly trapped in a jar, waiting to be set free. Only in her hating of me did she show me glimpses of who she really was. Seeing her lying there, all lifeless and still with no spit of spark left, did something to me. It hurt more than I cared to think about.
The Fire (Hurricane Book 4) Page 3