lanced through him. Please, God, let this be a drill.
Except he knew it wasn’t. Their drill was always a fire at 3 King Street, St Piran—which just so happened to be the address of the main fire station in the area. Which meant that this was real.
He headed straight for engine 54, where the rest of the crew were already stepping into their protective trousers, jackets and boots. Steve, the station manager, was in the front seat, tapping into the computer and checking the details.
‘What have we got, Guv?’ Tom asked as he swung into the seat next to Steve, the doors went up and the engine sped down the road towards Penhally Bay.
Steve checked the computer screen. ‘Explosion and fire at Penhally Bay Primary.’ He gave the driver, Gary, the map reference, even though everyone knew exactly where the school was, on the hill overlooking the bay. ‘Called in by Rosemary Bailey, the headmistress. The fire’s in a corridor by a storeroom and it’s blocked off three rooms. Two of the classes were out, so that leaves the quiet room and the toilets. They’re still checking off the kids’ names, so they’re not sure right now if anyone’s in there or not.’ He paused. ‘The storeroom contains all the art stuff, so we’re talking about flammable hazards and possible chemical inhalation from glue and what have you. Tom, you’re lead. Roy, you’re BAECO.’ The breathing apparatus entry co-ordinator kept the control board with the firefighters’ tallies in place so he knew who was in the building, how long they’d been in there, and when he needed to call them out because their oxygen supplies would be starting to run low.
‘The rest of you, follow Tom’s lead. We’ll start with the tanks in the appliances, then we’ll set the hydrant and check the supply.’
‘Right, Guv,’ the crew chorused.
‘Who’s our back-up?’ Tom asked. Two engines were always sent out for an initial call, and then more would be called as needed, staggering their arrival.
‘King Street’s on standby,’ Steve said. ‘And the paramedics are on their way. ‘
All standard stuff, Tom knew.
‘Nick Tremayne is going to be there, too,’ Steve added.
Tom had attended fires with Nick in attendance before, and knew that the GP was unflappable and worked well in a crisis. ‘That’s good.’ And Tom was really relieved that his crew was taking the call, so he could see for himself that his nephew was fine.
And Joey would be fine.
He had to be.
Joey was all Tom had left of his big sister since the car accident that had claimed her life and her husband’s just over a month ago, at New Year. Losing her had ripped Tom’s heart to shreds; the idea of anything happening to his precious nephew, the little boy his sister had entrusted to his care…
His mind closed, refusing to even consider the idea. Joey couldn’t be one of the trapped children. He just couldn’t.
But, all the way there, Tom was horribly aware of the extra problems that small children brought to a fire. Physically, their bodies couldn’t cope as well as an adult’s with the heat of a raging fire. And then there was the fear factor. Everyone was scared in a fire—you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, thanks to the choking thick smoke, and the heat and noise were incredible. Children found it even harder to cope with the way their senses were overwhelmed, and sometimes got to the point where they simply couldn’t follow directions because they were too frightened to listen.
Please, God, let Joey be safe, he prayed silently.
Please.
‘Hello, Tommy,’ Flora said as Trish Atkins, the teacher of the three-year-olds, brought the next of her charges through to the quiet room where Flora was giving the routine vaccinations. She smiled at the little boy. ‘I know Mummy told you why I’ve come to see your class today—not with my magic measuring tape to see how tall you all are, but to give you two injections to stop you catching a bug and getting sick. ‘
Tommy nodded. ‘Will they hurt?’
‘You’ll feel a bit of a scratch,’ she said, ‘and it’s OK to say a big “Ow” and hold Trish’s hand really tightly, but it’ll be over really quickly and I’ll need you to stay still for me. Can you do that?’
‘Yes,’ he lisped.
‘Good boy.’ She gave him the choice of which arm and where he wanted to sit; he opted to sit on Trish’s lap.
‘Mummy told me you’re getting a kitten.’ Distraction was a brilliant technique; if she could get him chatting about the new addition to their family, he wouldn’t focus on the vaccination syringe and he’d feel it as the scratch she’d promised, rather than as a terrifying pain. ‘What’s he like?’
‘He’s black.’
‘What are you going to call him?’
‘Ow!’ Tommy’s lower lip wobbled when the needle went in, but then he said, ‘Smudge. ‘Cause he’s got a big white smudge on his back.’
‘That’s a great name.’ She smiled at him. ‘What sort of toys are you going to get him?’
‘A squeaky red mouse,’ Tommy said. ‘Ow!’
‘All done—and you were so brave that I’m going to give you a sticker. Do you want to choose one?’
The distraction of a shiny rocket sticker made Tommy forget about crying, just as Flora had hoped it would. She updated his notes, and was about to put her head round the door of the quiet room to tell Trish that she was ready for the next child when she heard a huge bang and then fire alarms going off.
She left her papers where they were and headed out to the main rooms of the nursery. The children were all filing out into the garden, some of the younger ones crying and holding the hands of the class assistants. Flora could see through the large windows that Christine Galloway, the head of the nursery, was taking a roll-call of all the staff and children.
‘I think everyone’s out, but I’m checking nobody’s been left behind,’ Trish said from the far end of the room.
‘Do you want me to check the toilets?’ Flora asked.
‘Yes, please.’ Trish gave her a grateful smile.
Once they were both satisfied that everyone was out, Flora grabbed her medical kit and they joined Christine and the other teachers. Two fire engines roared up, sirens blaring and blue lights flashing, and they could see smoke coming over the fence from the primary school next door.
‘I’d better get next door in case anyone’s hurt and they need medical help,’ Flora said, biting her lip. She knew all the children in the school, from her work as the school liaison nurse, and the idea of any of them being hurt or, even worse… No. It was unthinkable.
‘Let us know if there’s anything we can do,’ Christine said. ‘I’ll put your notes in my office when we can go back into the building.’
‘Thanks.’ Flora gave her a quick smile, then hurried next door to the
