The Secret of Orchard Cottage

by Alex Brown

  *

  Nancy hurdled the white picket fence and was running at full pelt, tearing off her floaty nylon but highly flammable dress, and scraping her hair up out of the way as she went. She darted over to the garden shed, searching for a tool, anything to smash with. A shovel! It would do. Grabbing it, along with a filthy old dust sheet, she ran over to April.

  ‘Get away from here.’ She shoved April hard with both hands, not caring if she pushed her over on to the grass and hurt her, better that than let her run right into the fire. And April wasn’t thinking. Nancy had seen it before, a hundred times. Blind panic made people do extraordinary things. Dangerous things.

  ‘But I have to get Bella and the horses out,’ April yelled, her hair drenched with sweat, her face soaked in tears.

  ‘NO! Back off.’ Nancy knew she had to make it crystal clear to protect her stepmum. And thank God – April got it! She stopped moving. ‘Go to the lane. Tell the crew I’ve entered at the back.’ April stared momentarily, as if she wanted to protest, but then Nancy yelled, ‘GOT IT?’

  April nodded furiously, and then sped off.

  When Nancy made it to the back of the barn she ripped a section of the sheet (having dunked it in a big, slime-covered water butt on her way) and secured it over her nose and mouth to protect herself from directly inhaling the hot smoke. Then she threw the rest of the sheet over her head and down her back before grabbing two corners to tie as best she could around her midriff. It would have to do. It was all she had to protect herself – having quickly assessed the fire on the run over from the cottage, she saw that the flames seemed to be confined to the front section of the barn, so she prayed that the sheet would be enough. If she worked fast. Get in, get people and pets out, get the fire out … job done! That was her firefighter’s motto and she was sticking to it. She was under no illusion that she was going to get the fire out on her own, but she would blooming well get the people out. Bella. And then the pets out!

  And with that thought firmly in her head, she grasped the handle of the shovel and pounded it into the solid brick barn wall. Over and over until some of the old bricks started to give way. One more slam and she’d be in. But she knew she had to be fast. Very fast. Dislodging a section of brickwork could bring the whole thing down, especially in such an old construction like this, but there was no other way. The entrance to the barn was blocked by a sheet of flames, and even if she was able to get through there, she’d never get Darby and Joan to run out through the fire, and then stay out. Frightened and confused horses could very well run back into flames, or freeze. She knew that, having attended a fire at a stud farm one time – it had been intense, with the horses refusing to come out of their stalls, they were that scared. In the end they had to use blindfolds and strap specialist animal harnesses around them. It was a near miracle the crew managed to get every horse out and to safety with some suffering only minor smoke inhalation effects.

  Nancy was in! And was horrified to see Bella trying to save the horses. Standing in front of Darby and Joan, with her back to them, she was desperately flapping a blanket in the direction of the flames as if attempting to put them out, but all that was doing was fuelling the fire further. Nancy immediately wrenched the blanket from Bella’s hand and then grabbed hold of her and dragged her backwards before flinging her out through the hole to safety.

  ‘Run as fast as you can to the lane,’ Nancy yelled, gripping Bella’s shoulders to look her straight in the eyes. She needed to make sure she heard the instruction. She couldn’t take a chance on Bella hanging around to try to save her beloved horses. And if Nancy couldn’t coax them out, then the last thing she wanted was Bella seeing such an awful scene. Bella nodded, tears pouring down her face as she turned to run.

  Nancy surveyed the scene again. The fire had made short work of the deckchairs and was now consuming the dresser, all of which was at the other end of the barn. Thank God the vet had said to keep the concrete floor bare as a way of helping the horses to stay cool in the hot weather! But Darby and Joan were well and truly spooked. And no wonder – if an ignited spark flew from the dresser towards them the hay in their makeshift stable would be on fire in seconds. Pacing up and down, over and over, their eyes wide, their heads dipping and bucking back up, their hooves lifting and scraping at the ground beneath them, Nancy knew she needed to reassure poor Darby and Joan. She held out her palms, just as she had seen Bella do, and carefully but very quickly got close to the makeshift stable door.

  With her back to the far end of the barn and the flames, she pulled two lead ropes from a hook and went to connect them to the horses – but how? Neither Darby nor Joan had harnesses on. Nancy panicked momentarily, and then swiftly got a grip, she did the only thing she could think of and looped the rope around Darby’s neck and attempted to tie a knot, but it was hopeless, the rope was too thick and Darby was rearing up now. She looked over and saw a couple of bricks tumble down. And then to the other end of the barn – the flames were creeping closer, sparks spitting across the concrete floor. The hay near the stable was alight. It was going to be too late. She’d have to leave Darby and Joan. Or risk her own life by staying with them.

  Nancy reluctantly backed away.

  Then stopped.

  She couldn’t do it.

  She rushed forward, and with her head bowed, she pressed it into the side of Joan’s neck as if to say a final goodbye. Darby knew, and he nudged the back of her shoulder. Nancy turned and did the same for him. With her heart near breaking point, she backed away towards the opening in the wall, praying that they might follow her and she’d somehow coax them out into the safety of the fields all around, but neither horse did. Just as the horses in the stud farm had, Darby and Joan seemed to want to stay in the makeshift stable, apparently assuming that they were safe in their home.

  Nancy had one foot over the bricks at the bottom of the wall where it was still intact, and was just about to duck her head down to carefully but very reluctantly back her body out of the barn and into the open when there was an almighty whooshing noise, followed by a spectacularly triumphant arc of water that seemed to drench the entire barn within seconds.

  The pump.

  Never had Nancy been so grateful to see a hose.

  The crew were here at the other end of the barn and very quickly had the flames under control. A firefighter in full gear was next to her now, working deftly and swiftly to get harnesses on the horses – Nancy handed over the lead ropes and went to take Darby to safety, when she felt her legs go from under her.

  What the hell? She was in the air now, slung over a shoulder with her head bobbing around somewhere near the person’s backside. And she was fuming with indignation. How dare they? She had been first on the scene. She knew what she was doing. She wasn’t in danger … well, not now the fire was contained. Not when she was a flaming firefighter herself. Nancy pummelled her fists on his back. She could tell it was a bloke. His shoulders were far too wide to belong to a woman. Besides, a female firefighter wouldn’t have the audacity to sling one of their own over her shoulder, unless they were in fatal danger of course, and Nancy was most definitely not.

  Outside, and in the safety of the garden, and the very minute her feet had touched the ground, Nancy threw off the stinking makeshift mask and sheet from her body and flung her hands on to her knicker-clad hips. Green slime slid down her face and on to her black bra top and she furiously swiped it away.

  ‘What did you do that for?’ she bellowed as the guy pulled off his protective head gear.

  ‘To save your bloody life. But don’t bother thanking me or anything.’ He threw his hat on the floor and went to walk off towards the fire engine.

  Nancy checked herself – guess he wasn’t to know I’m one of them – and quickly went after him. She caught hold of his sleeve.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry. I …’ She stopped talking. April appeared from behind the fire engine with Bella huddled close beside her, looking all shaken up but mightily relieved.


  ‘Nancy! Thank God you’re safe.’ April dashed forward to give Nancy a big hug. ‘But why are you in your underwear and why are you covered in green goo? Oh what the hell does it matter – you’re a heroine. Are you OK?’

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m absolutely fine. Nothing a pint of iced cider wouldn’t fix, mind you.’ Nancy quickly gripped Bella’s hand by way of reassurance, the poor girl was still sobbing.

  ‘Well I think we can stretch to that! What you just did was magnificent. I could never have done that …’ April shook her head in awe as she put her arm around Bella to pull her in close for comfort.

  ‘Ahh, horses for courses, I guess.’ Nancy shrugged.

  ‘And talking of horses,’ the firefighter stepped in, ‘we saved both of them too! In case you were wondering,’ and he glared at Nancy.

  ‘Oh, Pete, thank God for that too. This is Nancy, my stepdaughter – you know, I told you about her when you were here doing the garden, she’s also a firefighter, in Basingstoke.’

  Pete the farmer, and also a retained firefighter, stopped walking and stared at Nancy as if taking a proper look at her for the first time. His face flushed pink like rhubarb. He coughed to clear his throat, and after wiping his hand across the chest part of his firefighter jacket, he held it out to her.

  ‘Pleasure to meet you.’ Ahh, so this was Pete the dairy farmer!

  ‘Hmm, likewise,’ she said, clocking the twinkly eyes and stubbly chin as she shook his hand, the size of a shovel and with an astonishingly strong grip.

  ‘And I’m sorry. I had no idea …’ He grinned, and Nancy felt herself grinning too. He was hot in a filthy, dirty, sweaty, welly-wearing, udder-squeezing farmer/firefighter kind of way. Older than her too, early thirties perhaps, which was a bonus as the boys her own age, like her twin, Freddie, his friends and suchlike, were mostly proper muppets.

  ‘Don’t mention it. I’ll, er, um … get us a drink.’ And she walked over to the cottage with a veritable spring in her step. Maybe she’d call her boss and see about extending her leave for a bit longer … as things sure were hotting up here in the sleepy little village of Tindledale.

  And then she heard! And the spring in her step stopped as suddenly as it had started. Her heart sank as she listened in to the crew manager explaining it all to April.

  ‘Yes, we’re seeing more and more of these incidents. People don’t realise the danger of leaving glass or mirrors in direct sunlight.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘We found shards of glass in the debris on the dresser – a pint glass or a jug perhaps. My initial guess – and we’ll need to investigate further, but I’d put money on it – is that the hot sunlight reflected off the glass on to the deckchair, causing it to ignite and then the whole lot went up.’

  ‘It was me!’ Nancy turned around and owned up right away.

  ‘No it wasn’t, darling. It can’t have been – you’re a firefighter. You put fires out, that’s your job, you don’t start them. You wouldn’t do that …’ April immediately defended her stepdaughter.

  ‘The iced cider jug! I left it on the dresser … along with the glasses. I tidied them all away on to the dresser and then must have forgotten to bring them into the cottage.’ And Nancy dipped her head. How could she have been so stupid to have left all that glass outside in direct sunlight? ‘And now Winnie’s diaries are gone for ever. April, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what else to say …’

  ‘It’s fine,’ April said magnanimously. ‘Just as long as you’re safe. And that Bella,’ she gave her another squeeze, ‘and Darby and Joan are safe. At the end of the day that’s all that matters.’ But Nancy could see the bereft look in her stepmum’s eyes. April was devastated. The connection, the piece of history, the link to her family, her heritage, was gone, just like that. And it was all her fault. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t done it on purpose, that wasn’t the point. April was right, she was a firefighter, she put out fires for a living, and should have been more careful.

  Later, after the fire-damaged barn had been made safe and then secured, and the vet had finished inspecting Darby and Joan – Matt, who it turned out was also a retained firefighter at the unmanned rural fire station, had been the one who got their harnesses on and led them out to safety into the back orchard, well away from the fire – someone suggested they all relocate to the Duck & Puddle pub garden in the village for a restorative pitcher of Pimm’s, or two.

  ‘Will you be joining us later, Matt?’ April asked, hoping she might find an opportunity to apologise to him.

  ‘Maybe,’ he replied, avoiding eye contact as he put his arm around Bella and pulled her in close to him.

  ‘Can we, Dad? Please?’ Bella pleaded, looking at April and then up at Matt.

  ‘We’ll see. Think you need an early night, love, you’ve had a big shock today.’

  ‘S’pose so. But you could still go …’ Bella said, smiling at April, and then added, ‘can I use your toilet please?’

  ‘Of course you can, sweetheart, no need to ask, you know that,’ she smiled, and Bella walked away.

  Seizing her moment, April swallowed hard, figuring it may be better just to go for it and apologise now in case he didn’t make it to the pub later. It wouldn’t be right to let it linger on. No, she needed to clear the air before he left.

  ‘Matt, I’m really sorry.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Well, you know … for earlier. In the orchard. For walking off like that when you were trying to help.’ She stared at the grass around her feet.

  ‘Forget it. As long as you are OK.’ Silence followed. ‘And you are, aren’t you?’ He looked directly at her and she was sure his voice softened slightly.

  ‘Yes,’ she paused, ‘and thank you. Um, I will be …’ She still averted her eyes.

  ‘Right,’ Matt nodded, then seemed to hesitate, as if he was about to say more, but wasn’t sure. ‘Well, I’ll, er … be off then.’

  ‘Um, sure. Er, hope to see you later then.’ April glanced up, feeling foolish, like an awkward schoolgirl rather than a grown woman. It was ridiculous. She felt utterly ridiculous. And wholly confused. She had panicked when Harvey had made his intentions clear, and all she could think of was Gray, but now, standing here with Matt, it felt totally different, there was something about him. April wanted him to talk to her, to be interested in her, but he clearly wasn’t.

  ‘Yep. Perhaps,’ Matt said, and off he went. April watched him go for a few seconds, before turning away to walk back into the cottage. Maybe she’d get a chance later to explain to him properly. She needed to, wanted to, if only to clear the air between them. It was obvious he didn’t feel the spark too, and after the way she had carried on in the orchard earlier, leaving him standing there without explanation, it was no wonder.

  April went to check on her aunt. It had turned out to be a blessing in disguise that Nancy had locked Edie in, as when April had darted off to see if she was OK after the fire engine had arrived, her aunt had still been fast asleep. So, reluctantly, April had relocked the bedroom door and left her to it, figuring it the safest option under the circumstances. But she needed to let her out now; what if her aunt was awake and wanted the bathroom or something? She’d be distressed and that was the last thing April wanted, although better that than her getting caught up in the fire, which thankfully turned out to be nowhere near as destructive as they had first feared – mind you, she may need to get her aunt’s hearing checked as it was a marvel that Edie had managed to sleep right through all that siren noise when the fire engine arrived.

  *

  In the Duck & Puddle pub garden, Molly bustled straight over to April with a pint of beer in one hand, the ferret under an arm, a wicker basket looped over the other and a flustered look on her face.

  ‘Jesus, I just heard what happened, April. Are you OK?’ She sat down on the wooden bench seat, and after putting her pint on the table and wiping the spill from the back of her hand, she pushed Stinker into the basket, gently lowered it
down on to the grass and tied his little lead around the table leg.

  ‘Yes, thank you. I’m fine. It really wasn’t as bad as it first looked …’ April swivelled her body towards her friend. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t whizz down to see what was going on. Did you not hear the siren or see the flashing lights?’ she teased, grinning, and knowing how Molly didn’t like to miss out on anything going on in Tindledale.

  ‘Oh, stop it!’ Molly guffawed, flinging her arms around April and giving her a hearty hug. ‘As long as you’re all OK. And such a shame about Winnie’s diaries … Pete told me just now at the bar. Does Old Edie know yet?’

  ‘No, she doesn’t, and I can’t bring myself to break the news to her. Even though her memory for the “here and now” is declining rapidly, she remembered everything in Winnie’s diaries. And it was a wonderful way for me to connect with her … even if she did think I was Winnie.’ April laughed, though she felt quite devastated, but she couldn’t let it show as the last thing she wanted was Nancy beating herself up any further. ‘And poor Nancy feels so bad that she’s stayed at home with Aunt Edie, she couldn’t face coming out – I’ve told her it was an accident, it wasn’t like she did it on purpose, but she’s being very hard on herself …’ April took a sip of the delicious blackberry cocktail that Cher, the landlady, had made especially for her, saying in a cracking cockney accent, ‘Get that down you, after the day you’ve had, you need it. And you’ll feel a whole lot better in no time.’

  Of course, by the time April had made it to the pub, the whole village knew about the fire in the barn at Orchard Cottage – news really did travel like wildfire, literally, around these parts. In fact, it was one of the villagers, Ruby, who ran the vintage dress shop in the High Street, who had first raised the alarm. She’d been driving down the lane past the back of the big orchard when she’d seen the smoke billowing up into the air, so reckoned she should let Pete know, more to be on the safe side than anything, as bonfires in the countryside were a common occurrence. And then, when Pete took a look … well, he knew they had a real fire and immediately put the call in as he raced to the station.