BLINDFOLD

by Lyndon Stacey

  He just hadn't the strength.

  Head bowed and eyes screwed tight against the smoke-induced agony, Gideon leaned weakly against the wall and thumped it helplessly with his fist. Shouting was beyond him, even if he could have made himself heard over the roaring blaze. And even had there been anyone to hear.

  Then, suddenly, desperation gave way to resignation and a relief of sorts. He could stop struggling. It was all right; no one would blame him. He'd done all he could. And somebody would find Jez, surely. Wouldn't they?

  There was nothing he could do but sit down and wait for it all to be over.

  It was the water that stopped him.

  A jet of it shot through the window above him just as he was about to release his hold on the sill. Shockingly cold, some of it hit the frame and cascaded down over his head and shoulders.

  It was too much.

  Gideon put both hands up to try and ward off the deluge and, incredibly, a strong, gloved fist closed around one of them and pulled.

  TEN

  IT WAS A LONG TIME before he stopped coughing. In the period of time between his lowering Jez from the window and being pulled from it himself, the field behind the stables had become host to two fire engines, an ambulance and a large, powerful-looking private car.

  The firefighter who hauled him out had handed him over to a fluorescent-green-jacketed paramedic, who removed Gideon's own somewhat charred waxed jacket and immediately cocooned him in a shiny silver blanket. He was then led past the vast red and silver bulk of the busy fire engine, sat down on the back step of a waiting ambulance and had an oxygen mask held over his nose and mouth. Gideon drew in one or two shuddering gasps of the blessedly sweet gas, coughed and then pushed the mask aside to speak.

  No words came, only an unintelligible croak. The medic put the plastic firmly back in place.

  `Don't try to talk, okay?' he advised. `Don't worry about the kid. She's on her way to hospital already. She's going to be all right. She's a tough one. I guess she owes you, too. Big time!' Gideon closed his eyes thankfully and tried to concentrate on

  his breathing. All around him he could hear the bustle and noise of the emergency crews in action and even through his closed eyelids the rhythmic blue light flashed, but he was content just to sit and let it all wash over him. His arms and legs felt boneless and shaky, his chest was tight and his eyes on fire. There was nothing he could usefully do except keep out of the way and the thought was bliss.

  `Breathing any easier yet?' the paramedic enquired after a while. Gideon opened his eyes and nodded. `Better all the time,' he croaked.

  `No other injuries that you're aware of?'

  He shook his head. Scrapes and bruises he probably had aplenty but nothing of significance. As a matter of fact, aside from the smoke-induced discomfort, his shoulder was bothering him the most. Being hauled out of the stable window by his wrists had done little to further the healing process.

  `Best have a look at those hands, then,' the medic suggested, removing the oxygen mask and producing dressings and bandages from a box.

  Gideon looked down in surprise. His hands, when he turned them palm up, were indeed looking decidedly the worse for wear; blackened, bleeding in places from cuts and grazes, and blistering wetly. He held them out obediently.

  Around him, the noise and bustle seemed to have abated a little. The shouts were a little less urgent, movement a little slower and the sky a shade or two darker as the flames died down. The pump was still powering on and the resultant jet poured salvation on to what was left of the buildings in a beautiful silvery stream. Sulky black smoke billowed up into the evening sky as the flames gradually gave up the battle. Already a wet, dank smell was beginning to pervade the air.

  `I think those'll do for now,' the medic said, winding bandage over the second dressing. `This gel should stay cold for about four hours. They'll re-do the dressings later, when we get you to hospital.'

  `Er, I'd rather not, if you don't mind. I'll be needed here.'

  `I don't think so, mate. Hospital's the best place for you right now.'

  `But I'm okay. It'd be a waste of time,' Gideon asserted. `These feel great. Really soothing.'

  `It'll wear off though, and you've inhaled a lot of smoke; you'd be wise to get yourself checked over.'

  `But I don't have to, right?'

  `I'm not going to force you, if that's what you mean. I can only advise,' he confirmed, shaking his head. `But smoke inhalation is dangerous. You could experience breathing difficulties later, and my advice is that you should get along to Casualty as soon as you can. The quickest way is obviously with us. But whatever you do, get those hands looked at by your GP in the morning.'

  `Thanks. I will,' Gideon said gratefully, and succumbed to another bout of coughing.

  A shadow fell across them as somebody approached. The ambulance man stood up, shaking his head once more, and melted into the background.

  `Station Officer Hanley,' the bulky silhouette introduced itself. `How are you doing?'

  `Oh, not so bad, thanks to you guys,' Gideon told him, in a voice that at last sounded something like his own, if only barely. `It was a close-run thing, though.'

  `You were certainly lucky,' Hanley agreed. `But, tell me, what on earth made you go back after you got the girl out?'

  Gideon was surprised. `How did you know I had?'

  `Old gentleman from down the road was watching the fire and saw you lower the girl out of the window and then disappear again. He came across and pulled the girl away from the building, then came to find us. Luckily for you, we were on our way round, looking for the little girl. We couldn't get close enough at the front.'

  `Me neither,' Gideon said. `The thing is, the kid went in to try and save the fawn and she wouldn't leave without it. I had to promise I'd go back for it.'

  `I take it you were too late.'

  `Its back was broken. I put it out of its misery.'

  `You know it was a bloody silly thing to do? Going back, I mean.

  `Tell me about it,' Gideon said wearily.

  Hanley put a hand on his shoulder. `If it's any consolation, I'd have done just the same, and I guess that goes for most of the lads too, but we'd have had BA - Breathing Apparatus,' he added, remembering he was talking to a layman.

  `If I'd known you were so close on my heels, I'd have waited. I've no desire to play the hero, I can tell you!'

  `Well, there's one little girl who's glad you did anyway,' the paramedic said, coming back unheard. `I've just been in touch with my colleague and he says she's conscious and recovering well. But a few minutes later ... Who knows?'

  `Is she badly hurt?'

  `I don't know, mate, but she's out of danger.' `And the others? Is everyone else all right?' `All accounted for, I understand.'

  Gideon sighed, his most immediate worries laid to rest. If Naomi, Tim and Jez were safe, then the other inevitable problems could be dealt with in due course.

  One of the firefighters came up to claim Hanley's attention and he drifted away, warning Gideon that he might want to ask him one or two questions later.

  `Is there something suspicious, then?'

  Hanley pursed his lips. Just routine, sir, that's all. Unless you know something?' His gaze intensified.

  Gideon shook his head, coughing again. He knew nothing. `You should get along to hospital.'

  `Yeah, so I'm told.'

  It was another half an hour or so before the fire was pronounced under control, and the damping down operation carried on for a long time after that.

  Having thanked the paramedics and assured them at least twice more that he really didn't need a trip to the hospital for a checkup, Gideon made his way round to the yard to see what the position was there. The ambulance crew, their job done, departed for base and, no doubt, many other urgent calls before their shift was through.

  It was by now almost completely dark, and in the yard, someone, presumably the firemen, had rigged up a powerful spotlight to illuminate the scene
. By its light Gideon could see a little of the havoc wrought by the blaze.

  The mood of the fire crew had changed now from one of brisk determination to workaday cheerfulness. The fire was as good as out; human casualties were nil and animal casualties apparently low. It was a job well done. The destruction of property was something they saw day in and day out, regrettable but not their problem.

  · They methodically doused any and all combustible materials within reach of their hoses that could possibly be suspected of harbouring a spark. Water was everywhere. It poured on to the still-smoking roofs of the stables and animal cages, and through the roof and windows of the blackened mobile home and farmhouse beyond. It deluged the hay shed and its contents, which had survived mainly intact, and lay all around in huge, muddy pools, reflecting the blue flashing lights.

  As Gideon stood on the edge of the lighted section, trying to assimilate the scale of the destruction and also scanning the area for Tim and Naomi, somebody touched his elbow. He turned to see a diminutive lady with a shawl over her head and a basket on her arm.

  He blinked. She looked like a refugee from a children's fairy tale.

  `I didn't know if you'd have electric so I brought a thermos,' the apparition said, looking anxiously up at Gideon who was wondering if he should know who she was. `Tea,' she added helpfully. `If you'd like it.'

  He gathered his wits. `More than anything,' he assured her with a smile. Anything, that was, except a good stiff measure of spirits. Ali, well.

  `Gideon!' Naomi materialised out of the darkness beside him. `Are you okay? One of the firemen said you nearly got buried alive in the old stables!'

  `It wasn't quite as dramatic as all that,' he protested. Jez went in looking for the fawn and I got a bit singed getting her out. She had a far narrower escape than I did.'

  Naomi took hold of his arms and pulled his bandaged hands forward. `Oh, yes? And the rest! Still, I'm just so glad you're all right.' She wrapped him in a huge hug and added, into his jumper, `I can't afford to lose my big brother. He's the only one I've got!'

  Gideon returned the hug, more moved than he would have cared to admit but unable to think of any reply that wouldn't make him cringe in retrospect. `And what about you? Are you all right, Sis? Really?'

  `Yes, I'll be okay. Just bone weary,' she said, standing back and summoning a brave smile.

  `And Tim? Where's he?'

  `He's over by the surgery with the birds and smaller animals. He's okay.'

  `Well, this kind lady - I'm sorry, I don't know your name - has brought us a thermos of tea,' Gideon said.

  `Rose,' the lady put in. `My name's Rose Callow. I live just down the lane there. My husband, George, was the one who helped the little girl.'

  `Oh, is he here?' Gideon glanced round. `I'd like to thank him.'

  Rose shook her head. `No, he's gone home to sit down. His heart's not too good and he needed to rest after all the excitement.'

  Gideon began to express his sympathy but was cut short by a commotion at the entrance to the yard, where at least three

  policemen were struggling to deny access to a rather large individual who appeared desperate to gain entry. He watched for a moment and then recognition dawned.

  `It's all right,' he called out, making his way over. `He's the girl's brother.'

  He was obliged to repeat himself before the officers took in the information and reluctantly released their hold on the blond giant. This they did cautiously, as if afraid that, once free, their captive would turn on them.

  Joey had other matters on his mind. `What's going on? Where's Jez? She was supposed to meet me down the lane.'

  `But you were late, weren't you?' Gideon stated coldly. After all, ifJoey had picked the child up at the appointed time she would have been gone long before the fire even started. `And while she was waiting she saw the smoke and came back.'

  `Your sister, is it, sir?' one of the policemen enquired, keen to regain his position of authority. `Yes, well, I'm afraid she was taken to hospital about half an hour ago. Smoke inhalation, of course. Apart from that, I can't say.'

  `But she's all right, isn't she?'Joey towered over the policeman, grabbing the man's waterproof jacket in his agitation. `Isn't she? Tell me, damn you!'

  The officer looked a little startled, as well he might. Joey was a formidable figure even at the best of times, which these clearly weren't.

  `Take your hands off me, sir!' he spluttered. `Thank you. Yes, I'm told she's out of danger but she's a lucky little girl, it could have been very different.'

  But Joey was no longer listening. He swung savagely towards Gideon. `It's your bloody fault!' he hissed. `If you hadn't brought her here, this would never have happened! You've been nothing but bloody trouble!'

  Gideon didn't rise to the bait. Whatever his quarrel with the man, the outburst was provoked by Joey's own feelings of shock and guilt, and this was neither the time nor the place to rake up what was past. Nor was it the moment to point out the injustice of his accusation.

  `Now, look here!' someone said firmly and to no noticeable effect.

  Out of the corner of his eye Gideon saw one of the policemen start forward and then hesitate, the headlights of Joey's idling vehicle picking out the fluorescent strips on his jacket with startling intensity. Joey's face was no more than six inches from Gideon's and his expression was not encouraging. He held his ground and waited for reason to reassert itself.

  `You smug bastard!' Joey spat the words and accompanied them with a forcible shove against Gideon's shoulder, which sent him staggering back a pace or two. Sod's law it had to be his sore one. His sharp intake of breath set off another bout of coughing.

  `Here!' one of the policemen protested, reaching for Joey's arm. He shook him off as one would a troublesome insect and advanced upon Gideon once more.

  At this point the other two officers took a hand, fastening themselves with grim determination, one to each arm, and at the same time Naomi reached the group and stepped in front of her brother in an unconsciously protective gesture.

  Joey sneered. `That's it, pal. Hide behind a woman.'

  `Come on, sir. You're upset.' Another policeman had appeared. `Don't make things worse for your sister by getting into trouble yourself. It won't help anyone, least of all her.'

  Gideon thought his voice sounded familiar but couldn't place him. He wondered how many more there were around. It must be a quiet night in Dorset.

  `The best thing you can do is get along to the hospital,' the newcomer continued. `She'll want her family around her.'

  The calm good sense had its effect. Joey ceased to glare belligerently at Gideon and turned to glare instead at the policeman, a slim five foot ten or so of easy, quiet authority.

  `Well, I'd have been there by now, if someone would just tell me where she's been taken.'

  Just let me take your details: name, address and phone number. Then you can be on your way.' He nodded to the two PCs who were still clinging to Joey's arms as if their jobs depended on it, and they obediently stepped back.

  With no more than a darkling glance at Gideon, Joey turned to follow the slight figure back towards the gate, but Gideon was under no illusion that the matter would be forgotten.

  `That was Jez's brother?' Naomi asked incredulously. `Poor little mite!'

  `Half-brother, yes, I'm afraid so. Though, to do him justice, I think he's very fond of her,' Gideon said. `You should see the other one!'

  `Thanks, but no thanks!'

  `Are you all right, sir?' one of the remaining two policemen asked. The third was nowhere to be seen; presumably he'd returned to the fire scene.

  ,Gideon assured him he was fine and the two fluorescent jackets headed back towards the gate where, despite the farm's isolation, a number of sightseers were pushing eagerly against the police tape.

  `Come on, Sis. Let's have that cup of tea,' Gideon suggested, putting his arm round her shoulders and steering her back to the spot where they'd left Rose Callow. `Have you los
t weight, Naomi?'

  As a dancer she was of necessity slim, but just now she seemed, even through the waxed jacket that she wore, positively bony. `I have, a little,' she admitted. `We've been working so hard, Gideon. Tim's really determined to make a success of this place and there's been so much to do. And then . . .' Her voice caught on a sob as exhaustion and the horror of the situation threatened to overwhelm her. `And then there's been all the trouble, it's been so . . .' She sobbed again and sniffed. `So frightening. And now this. What are we going to do with all the animals?'

  `Shh.' Gideon gave her shoulders a gentle shake. `We'll get it all sorted out. Don't worry about it now.'

  `But how can we? It'll take ages to rebuild, and what do we do

  with the animals in the meantime? We've got all those donkeys ... what'll we do with them? They need shelter. Oh, it's all such a mess!'

  `First things first. We all need a cup of tea,' Gideon said firmly as Tim appeared from the direction of the surgery. `Let's find dear old Rose. Ah, Tim, is there somewhere - anywhere - warm and dry, where we can sit down for five minutes?'

  `As a matter of fact, I was coming to suggest just that. One of the firemen - chap named Smiley as far as I can make out - has rigged up a lamp in reception for us, and Rose is making more tea on the primus.'

  `The woman's a marvel!' Gideon declared. `Well, what are we waiting for?'

  The small block comprising surgery, reception and Tim's office had come off best of all, the wind having blown the flames in the other direction, and it was bliss to collapse on to the upholstered reception area chairs and sip the hot tea Rose had brewed.

  The old lady dug down in her basket and produced a packet of chocolate digestives which she passed round, and for several long moments Gideon was content to let all thoughts of the outside world pass him by.

  It couldn't last though. Beside him sat Naomi, her blonde head drooping with fatigue and telltale clean streaks in her sooty complexion. In the opposite corner Tim was sitting hunched on his chair, hands clasped around a mug and red-rimmed eyes staring into the steaming liquid with a blank unfocused gaze. Under the grime his face was burned red, as Gideon could feel his own was. The skin felt as if it would split if he smiled too widely. Not much chance of that, but he did have one idea that might help raise morale.