The house has stopped thrashing now, giving in to the roar of the flames, resigned to its end. All that’s left are great rolling waves of fire cresting and breaking from the blue, quiet heart of the fire. He pictures himself pushing Rosie out to safety, her ribcage filling with clean, nourishing oxygen.
There are noises behind him now, shouts and screams for him to stop but he doesn’t, he won’t. Smoke rasps through him; he feels his skin prickle as though blistering already. He runs through the gate; the fire is dancing around the front door, so he follows the path to the back but again someone grabs his arm. Harder, rougher this time, pulling him to a stop. It’s a firefighter, bulky in all their gear, but Seb can just make out their eyes, they’re trying to tell him something and then he hears her, he hears her, Rosie shouting his name, but he can’t trust it. He needs to see her before he can stop. Again, the firefighter pulls his arm, rougher this time, forcing Seb to turn. Rosie is behind him, pressing against another firefighter, still calling his name like it’s the only word she knows.
His heart is a wild thing as he moves towards her, slowly, like he’s worried she’ll vanish. He takes in her face first, streaked with black, eyes lively with shock. Terrified, but unharmed. He looks over the rest of her and she’s saying, ‘I’m OK, Seb, I just burnt my hand, I’m OK.’
He glances up, again, to the sky.
‘I thought, Rosie, Jesus Christ, I thought you were inside, I …’
And through it all – the shouts from the people watching, the roar of the fire and the wail of alarms – there’s perfect silence as Rosie looks up at him, her face filled with something transcending fear or relief or even love. It’s only later that Seb will find the right word. Acceptance. They reach for each other at the same time and in the flickering light as so much is destroyed Seb knows that something more precious has also been saved.
Chapter 22
The kids wrap themselves around Rosie and Seb, the five of them in a shaking huddle, before they’re moved away by firefighters in bulky coats and gloves, the visors down on their yellow helmets. It’s their show now.
Rosie is so grateful for Greer’s weight in her arms, her daughter’s legs squeezing her waist. Heath and Sylvie either side of Seb, his arms over their shoulders. They form a protective semicircle around Eva who stands, solemn but strong on her own, turned to face everything she’s losing. The police move them back, further away. There’s nothing for them to do now but watch this strangely intimate moment. They stand, watching tiny deaths play out in front of them as the physical pieces of Eva’s life, Seb’s childhood, Rosie’s kids’ childhoods lift and disappear into the night sky. Goodbye, family photo albums. Goodbye, Eva’s childhood diaries. Goodbye, map with Benjamin’s phone number.
Even though there are so many people, firefighters with their hoses and police with their radios, it feels like it’s just the six of them standing there, watching. The children are quiet, reverent. Greer strokes Rosie’s cheek. The children seem to understand that what is happening here is terrible but also sacred and Rosie knows in the pit of her that it’s right for the children to be here. To witness what mustn’t be avoided, to see what can never be properly described.
Next to her, Rosie feels Seb and she presses herself against the side of him. There is no one else, no one else she could stand next to and witness all this destruction with. She feels like she too is on fire as so much between them floats up, up, away into the night sky. He came for her. That’s all that matters. It’s no longer about who is right and who is wrong, it’s no longer about all the things they should have done earlier and the things they should not have done at all.
A police officer approaches Eva. ‘Mrs Kent? Are you Mrs Eva Kent?’
Suddenly the protective casing around their little group is broken and now there’s someone else, an ambulance worker in dark-green scrubs next to Rosie asking, ‘Hi, Mrs Kent, I’m Katerina. Can I take a look at that hand for you?’
Rosie feels Greer’s legs around her soften like she’s about to release, but Rosie holds her little one tighter, wrapping Greer’s legs around her waist again, and says to the woman, ‘No, no, thank you, I’m fine.’
Katerina asks again to look at Rosie’s hand and she reluctantly passes Greer to Seb.
Seb puts his hand behind Rosie’s head and for just a moment they stand, foreheads touching, his tears so close to her own. Rosie pulls away first as Seb whispers, ‘I’m going to take the kids home and then I’m going to come back for you, Ro.’
Rosie shakes her head. ‘No. You stay with them, Seb. They need you more than I do. Stay with them.’
Seb agrees with a brief incline of his head before he glances towards Eva, who now has two police officers in front of her, taking notes, and Rosie knows without having to be told what he’s asking.