The Collared Collection (6 page)

‘You’re beautiful, Callie,’ he breathed, when they surfaced for air. ‘I’ve been dying to do that for days.’

‘You’re not so bad yourself,’ she said, squirming like a gauche teenager, embarrassed by a compliment. Self-consciously she fiddled with the tufts of stuffing peeping out of a threadbare cushion. ‘But I think you should see an optician as you’ve failed to notice my red, peeling nose and the left side of my face glowing every colour of the rainbow. I could get myself exhibited at the Tate Modern, no problem.’ She mentally told herself to shut up.

He took the glass from her hand and stood it on the coffee table. ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.’ With that, he kissed her passionately once more, and when they advanced to ‘heavy petting’, as people used to call it, they decamped to her bedroom for decency’s sake, grabbing glasses and the bottle, in case they got thirsty.

Chapter Ten

‘Let’s turn off the lights,’ she pleaded. ‘My body isn’t what it used to be – I have lumps and bumps in all the wrong places.’

‘Shut up and come here.’ They compromised on leaving one low-wattage lamp on.

‘There’s just one thing,’ she warned between kisses, ‘you have to be back downstairs when Sam and Alex get up.’ She remembered the grief she’d given Ginny for making out while the kids were around and felt a sharp twang of hypocrisy.

‘Anything you say, my darling. Now where were we?’

She worried she wasn’t wearing matching underwear, but that dissipated in a torrent of desire when he started to slowly and sensually undress her. Though she’d thought a bit about what to wear, she was hardly clad in her sexiest outfit – the cotton trousers, bought at the supermarket on a whim, were grey and probably far too young for her, but had found their way into her basket by virtue of their reduced price tag. Ditto a dusky pink T-shirt with an oversized sparkly butterfly soaring across her chest. If only she’d known Gok Wan’s number …

‘Relax, Callie,’ he lifted her chin to kiss her again, ‘we’ll be good together, I’ve been thinking about making love to you ever since we met.’

She had to bite her tongue – narrowly missing his – to stop herself asking if he and Ginny had been good together too. And he’d chatted her up in the public library, which was hardly the place for steamy thoughts …

‘Sorry,’ she breathed when their lips parted, ‘I’m a bit out of practice; I haven’t done this for a long time. And
please
don’t tell me it’s like riding a bike.’

He smiled, then ran the tip of his tongue down her neck and around her ear, giving her delicious shivers – in direct contrast to the volcano about to erupt between her legs. She was undressed, apart from her pants, and he touched her breast so softly she was barely aware of it until her nipple hardened. When his fingers slid into her pink M&S cotton bikinis and kept on going, she threw herself totally into the almost-forgotten joy of sex.

Her eyelids sprang open. David was gone.

She squinted at the red glow of the digital alarm. 2.47 a.m. So why was it squawking when she didn’t need to get up for hours? When she aimed a whack at the off button, nothing happened.

To her absolute horror, she realised it wasn’t the clock making enough noise to wake the dead, but the smoke alarm…

Chapter Eleven

‘David!’ Callie hollered, as she fell out of bed and swept an arc on the floor with her hand, searching for some form of clothing to grab, ‘Where are you? The house is on fire!’

She had an awful vision of him being burned to a crisp as he slept downstairs on the sofa. But he was back in seconds, dressed in ten more. ‘Get the boys up – I’ve just done a quick recce and the fire is at the hall end of the kitchen, spreading to the living room.’ Though he spoke calmly, there was anxiety pinched into his face and a strange brightness shining in his eyes. He grasped her arm, ‘Quickly! I’ll call the emergency services.’

Callie ran through a lot of smoke on the landing and was spluttering by the time she clattered in to rouse first Sam and then Alex. Trying not to panic them, she explained that they needed to put on something warm very quickly and find a safe way out of the house.

‘OK,’ said Sam sleepily, as though he did this sort of thing every night. He scooped up his teddy bear, Grumpy, and held him tight.

They ran back to her bedroom – she had to drag Alex, who always took a long time to wake up properly, whether the house was on fire or not. She slammed the door, peering frantically at David. The smoke on the landing had been a lot thicker on the way back and she was terrified they might leave it too late to get out.

As he squatted down to the boys’ eye level, their worried faces focused on his. ‘OK, we’re all going to have to be really brave and you are to do exactly as I tell you, do you understand?’ Solemnly, they nodded. ‘There’s a small fire downstairs – I want you both to get down on your knees, pull your dressing gowns over your heads, and hold your breath. I’m going to open the door and you must crawl as fast as you possibly can, round to the bathroom. No stopping for anything. Then you close that door. Does everyone know what they have to do?’ Two more nods. ‘Remember to keep down low and your mum and I will be right behind you. I’ve called the fire brigade and they’ll be here in no time.’

Sam made a weak, whimpering noise, but did as he was told and joined Alex on the floor. She gave them each a lightning hug and they were gone – David closed the door behind them.

He spoke quickly. ‘OK, Callie – your turn. The fire will spread fast now it’s taken hold and we can’t risk the stairs. We’ll go out through the bathroom window, and down the overhang at the side of the house – we have to hurry, before the bathroom catches.’

Her mouth gaped open. She needed to get to Sam and Alex and make them safe – she didn’t even want to think about diving out of any window, especially one on the top floor; a broken neck was all she needed to complete the injury set. As instructed, she turned right for the bathroom – scrabbling so fast along the landing, she got friction burns on both knees. On reaching the door she fell in, with David up her rear as he’d promised.

‘Brilliant! You’re doing great, boys – nearly there,’ David said with false jollity. She noticed Sam’s bottom lip start to quiver and laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder – which seemed to do the trick. ‘Now, I’m going to climb out of this window and slide down the small roof and then I’ll be able to jump the rest. When I say it’s OK, you follow me, Alex, then Sam, then your mum – we’ll all lay down and make a soft cushion for her to land on.’

‘Pah! No way,’ said Alex, his face screwed up in disgust. Callie was glad to see he was alert enough for logical thought.

They all heard the distant siren of a fire engine at the same moment and Sam cheered, waving Grumpy above his head, relief relaxed into his features. He seemed so tiny and fragile – though Callie could tell he was trying his very hardest to be gutsy.

David shook his head. ‘Can’t wait, we need to get out now.’ She caught the escalation of urgency in his voice.

He opened the window, pulled himself up, and climbed out, still hanging on to the frame. ‘It’s steep, so be very careful,’ he warned, before disappearing. They heard the scraping noise of him sliding down rough tiles and then cursing halfway when his trousers caught on something jagged. Last of all came the dull thud, as he landed on the concrete below.

Callie grabbed an old cane chair to give Alex a height boost, kissed him, and helped him through the window – she stood on the chair too, hanging onto him for as long as she could, until he gained the confidence to inch his way down, out of her reach. His face was pale and worried, while he concentrated on doing as David had instructed – she could see him and another man below, waiting to catch Alex.

She glanced back to see Sam shedding silent tears into Grumpy’s furry gut.

Trying not to betray the raw fear that was threatening to take hold, she touched his face and did her best to encourage him, ‘Hey, it’s OK, Sam. I know it’s all a bit scary, but I’m here to help you this end and David and Alex will catch you below. Where’s my brave little man gone?’

She could see he was chewing something over, coming to a decision. With no warning, he made a dash for the door and opened it. As she went to grab him, he slipped through her fingers and without her realising what had happened until it was too late, they were both back on the smoke-filled landing, with noxious black fumes billowing around them. She could actually make out orange flames licking at the bottom of the stairs; the heat was becoming oppressive and their breathing was laboured and wheezy. It was obvious they had very little time left.

‘Sam!’ she croaked, ‘We have to get out!’ She snatched for his hand, started coughing. Tears from smarting eyes trickled down her cheeks.

‘I can’t,’ he cried, ‘I’ve got to get Jasper! Let me go – I have to find him!’ He convulsed into a coughing fit – they were both in imminent danger of being overcome by smoke inhalation. With adrenalin-induced strength, she frogmarched him back into the bathroom, slammed the door, and accepted she had no choice but to tell him a bare-faced lie, if they were to stand any chance at all of survival. She sucked in a lungful of clean air at the open window and brushed away the tears from his cheeks and her own.

‘Listen, Sam, you mustn’t worry about Jasper – animals, and cats in particular, have very good instincts when it comes to saving themselves from danger. He’ll have escaped through his cat flap, you’ll see – he’s probably waiting for us in the garden, wondering what all the fuss is about.’

She heard David bellow her name from below, questioning why Sam wasn’t on his way, when the clock was ticking.

‘We’ll go together, shall we?’

He nodded, still unconvinced.

She bit into Grumpy’s paw and held it fast between her teeth, clasped Sam’s hand tightly and clambered after him through the window. Then they began their long slither down to safety, one tile at a time.

Chapter Twelve

Callie clung on, practically by her fingernails, until Sam was lowered safely to ground level. She could feel her robe was caught on something and regretted not having the presence of mind to grab on more layers of clothing, despite nagging the boys to do so – though she accepted a bare bottom waving at the world was the very least of her worries. Suspended over the guttering, legs dangling in the vain hope of connecting with something resembling terra firma, she breathed a huge sigh of relief when she felt hands on her rump to guide her down the final few feet.

‘Thanks, David.’ She turned to see a stranger, ‘Oh! Excuse me! I thought you were someone else … but thanks anyway.’ She caught sight of David in the back garden – he was cuddling Sam and had Alex gripped to his side.

‘You’re welcome. Now I think we should get well away from the house for safety’s sake and let the firefighters do their job.’

She didn’t heed his sensible advice immediately, but ran to David and the boys. ‘Well done, boys … and thank you, David.’ She said nothing more in case she succumbed to the emotion she felt welling up – she just hoped he could read her mind.

He smiled and gripped her hand. ‘Thank goodness everyone is safe.’

She returned Grumpy to Sam’s care, praying he wouldn’t mention Jasper again, and they shared a quick embrace before they all scuttled away from the wafting heat and sparks.

Out front, several neighbours were gathered in the road in their nightclothes as the crews of two fire trucks with lights flashing like Blackpool Illuminations worked quickly and methodically, unravelling flat hoses and attaching them to the hydrant. The Chief Fire Officer (as emblazoned on his helmet) asked Callie if anyone else was left in the house.

‘No … well, the cat might be trapped. My son’s cat.’

He assured her his men would do their best to locate Sam’s feline friend.

Amongst the hovering group, she noticed Mrs Patel and the Walkers, who had occupied the other half of the semi for nigh on fifty years. She waved to Mrs Walker, in ignorance of the etiquette applicable to such ghastly circumstances, debating whether or not she should go and apologise for the fire. She decided against it, secretly harbouring the pathetic hope that she’d wake from the nightmare any minute.

Approaching the man who had helped them, she extended a shaky, blackened hand. ‘Callie Ashton. I don’t think we’ve met, but you are intimately acquainted with my rear end. Thank you once again for your assistance.’

As they shook, she had to use a lot of willpower not to whip her hand away – his clammy, flaccid touch gave her the creeps.

‘Pleased to meet you, Callie. I’m Robert Wyatt – my wife Ellie and I moved next door to the Symonds about a month ago. She’s away at the moment.’ She remembered ogling the contents of the removals van: expensive, traditional furniture.

Feeling obliged to be polite, she said, ‘You must be regretting your choice of location? Two deaths and a fire already,’ while discreetly wiping her hand on her thigh.

He smiled, flashing perfect dental work, but didn’t comment. He was a tall man, attractive in a rather old-fashioned way – a bit too matinee idol for her tastes, with his short, dark hair brushed away from an angular face. Plus, he was wearing a silk paisley dressing gown that Noel Coward wouldn’t have said no to. She pegged him at mid to late forties.

He nodded toward David and the boys. ‘Are they your husband and sons?’

‘Sons, yes: Alex, the older one, and Sam. David is a friend – a close friend. My husband and I are separated.’ She realised she was probably boring a complete stranger to tears.

Robert nodded again. ‘I see.’ He turned his attention back to the firemen, who seemed to be getting the blaze under control with their amazingly powerful water cannons. En route back to David and the boys, Callie asked each neighbour she passed to keep a lookout for Jasper, though she feared he was toast.

After a quick once-over in the back of the ambulance that had arrived alongside the fire engines, they spent the rest of the night at David’s one-bedroomed flat, which was extremely cramped for all four of them. It was a very swish bachelor pad in a sought-after area. Left unchecked, Alex and Sam would have no trouble covering the stark white walls and highly polished surfaces with sticky fingerprints and much worse, in record time.