James Michael, pallid and sweating, wonât meet my eye. I could punch him and smile about it, and he knows it, but this isnât the time.
With Charlotte on the penthouse floor of the building, flames taking hold somewhere below, and Michaelâs instruction to her to remain where she is, it is only a matter of time before she is trapped beyond rescue.
Fucking idiotâ¦.
And because in our headlong rush from the apartment we both left without our phones, we have no way to contact her.
As my imagination cries havoc, I battle the terror for her that rises in me, unbidden, unwelcomeâ¦.
Flamesâ¦
Heatâ¦.
Burningâ¦.
â¦. Smoke, choking fumesâ¦.
Trappedâ¦.
Jadeâ¦.
Donât panicâ¦.
â¦. Youâre no good to her if you panicâ¦.
We sprint up a flight of stairs, the sound of heated, rushing air growing louder around us, a hot wind risingâ¦.
But as we climb only the second flight, firefighters, masked and uniformed are descending. Arms outstretched, blocking our path, âGet moving downward. The floor above hereâs on fire. The whole buildingâs coming apart. You canât go that way.â
I grab him by the arm. âThereâs a woman trapped in the Penthouse.â I have to shout over the wailing of the baking wind as it begins to chimney upwards, feeding on its own heat. âWeâre not sure she even knows yet that sheâs trappedâ¦â
He flashes eyes up the stairwell. All around and above are the sounds of crashing and collapse and the strained wheezing of metal and concrete under stress. âTalk while we move,â he yells, still descending and sweeping me and Michael with him.
As he runs he pulls out a radio, talking into it, pressing it against his ear to hear the reply over the chaos around us. His eyes flash to mine. âThereâs helicopters coming in to help on the top floors. Can she get onto the roof?â
âGot a phone on you?â
Still running, the firefighter hands me a mobile, watching closely as I tap in Charlotteâs numberâ¦.
It ringsâ¦.
Come onâ¦. Come onâ¦.
Pick up your fucking phone, Charlotteâ¦.
Then as I realise I have been speaking out loud, she answers. âCharlotte! Where are you?â
âYesâ¦. Master, weâre trappedâ¦. We canât get out.â
We?
But I donât waste words wondering. âGet the hell out of there. Get out to the roof terrace. Thereâs helicopters being flown inâ¦.
âRight? Wonderful! Yes, I will. Bethâs with me. Richard sent her up hereâ¦.
Richard sent her to you?
But I donât have time to think about that. âBethâs with herâ¦.â I say to Michael. âRichard sent her up there for safety.â¦â Then back to Charlotte, âYes, weâll catch up with you. If you see mine or Michaelâs phones, bring them with you.â
Weâre descending the open heart of the building now, the stairs separated from wide lobbies and public areas only by glass screens. Beyond the glass a black fume swirls and rises, the acrid scent of it seeping through cracks and corners, ready to choke and burn, snatching at our lungs as we sprint ever downward.
And as we finally spill outside, my first thought as I draw in huge lungfuls of clean sweet air is to look up, where I see helicopters sweeping in from across the City, swinging down to the rooftop.
*****
Seven Years Ago Mr Kalkowski puffs on his pipe. âSo, Jenny. Are you looking forward to your wedding? To being a married woman?â
Her smile is shy. She sucks at her lips. âYes, I am. I wasnât sure at first, butâ¦. well, this will be the first time Iâve had someone. Someone to call my own I mean. A familyâ¦.â
Her eyes are misty and the old manâs lids droopâ¦.
Who can blame her for putting that over anything else?
And now her voice grows excited. ââ¦. Weâre even going to have our own place to live. I thought I was going to have to live with Chadâs parents until we could save up for a place of our own. But Mrs Collierâs having one of the old sheds converted to a holiday cottage and she says we can live in there for a while and pay rent with some extra work on the farm until we find our feet.â
She is so clearly happy. So much anticipating the future with her husband-to-be. He wonders how to ask the question which haunts his thoughts. But his reflections are interrupted.
âAre you all alone, Mr Kalkowski? Like me? Don't you have any family?â
He inhales, then releases a smoke-ring before replying. âIn the old country, yes, I had family.â His words are slow. âBut I have not seen any of them for a very long time.â
Her voice quieter, âAre they still alive?â
He glances sidelong at her. âI left my old home in bad times, bringing my Rachel with me. But there were those who chose to stay behind. Some of them, I found again in later years. Othersâ¦.â He stares into space, sucking at the pipeâ¦. âOthers no, I never heard from again. Who can say what was their fate?â
âDo you have any children?â
For a moment his face falls, but he quickly recovers. âLife has given me many blessings Jenny, but children were not among them.â He shifts his gaze to hers for a moment then, soft-eyed he strokes her cheek. âHad life given different gifts to me and Rachelâ¦.â
But as he touches the girl, something inside her thrums. She slants into the caress, her eyes wide. Her lips part, tilting up to his.
Alarmed, the old man withdraws. Hurt ripples across her face as, with the tiniest of head shakes and a wriggle of the fingers he leans away.
Disturbed, he fiddles with his pipe, relighting it unnecessarily. âYou told me you are happy with Chad, did you not?â
âI am, butâ¦.â Her eyes are wide and green, her emotion naked.
Deliberately, he looks away, tamping out the bowl of the pipe, then refilling it. âOf course, I have the school. The school has given me many children. And the people here are good people, even if their view of the world can be a little narrow.â He watches her sidelong as he puffs the tobacco alight. âAre you lonely, Jenny? It has seemed to me that you are happy here.â
She sucks at her now dry mouth, trying to sound normal. âI am happy here, yes, and most of the time it's great. I just sometimes think that I don't fit in very well.â
His head tilts. âWhat times for example?â
ââ¦. Like when I was boxing. People said I'm not a proper girl.â
âPeople like Jack?â
âHe's one, yes, but not the only one.â
Her throat tightens. âWhen I said I wanted to go to university, they said my job is to be Chad's wifeâ¦.â
He puffs on his pipe. âWho are âtheyâ? Who did not like it?â
âThe farmhands. Mrs Collierâ¦â He raises brows, surprised. âAnd when she saw I was reading the prospectus, she got really cross with me.â
âAnd this is why you agreed to marry Chad?â
âItâs part of it, butâ¦. I just think weâre going to be so happy togetherâ¦.â
He nods. âI hope so Jenny. I truly hope so.â
*****