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The Firefighter's Fiance
Kate Hardy


Kelsey Watson's life seems to be ticking along just fine. She loves her firefighting job, she's happily single and she has a wonderful (and gorgeous) friend, colleague and housemate in paramedic Matt Fraser.Then Matt notices that a fierce fire in a primary school affects Kelsey more deeply than she's admitting. As he tries to help her get to the root of her problems, a deeper connection begins to emerge between them that neither of them expected–or knows how to handle!









Quietly, Matt knocked on the door, walked in and sat on the edge of her bed. “Kels?” He stroked her hair. “It’s okay, just a bad dream.”


“I couldn’t save them, Matt. I failed.”

“It wasn’t your fault. Nobody expected the fire to suddenly come shooting out like that. None of the crew could have done any more,” he reminded her. “And look at today. You made a difference today. If it wasn’t for you, Noel could have been in a really bad situation. Yo u got him out while we could still help him.”

“It’s not enough.”

“Hey.” He shifted to pull the duvet aside and slid into the bed beside her. “Come here.” He pulled her into his arms, pillowing her head against his chest. She was shaking. Still crying? He wasn’t sure, though her face was damp. He held her close, stroking her hair and soothing her. “It’s going to be all right, Kels. I promise,” he whispered. She’d be safe in his arms. Always.

And eventually she stopped shaking and curled her arms around him. “Thanks, Matt. For being here, for everything.”

“Any time.” He dropped a kiss on her hair.




Dear Reader (#ulink_49138020-63df-57da-8e18-5941b634673b),


I think firefighters do an amazing job—they work incredibly hard, in extremely tough conditions, and they are true heroes. I really wanted to write a firefighter book—and I wanted it to be a little different, with the heroine as the firefighter.

Of course, writing this book meant doing some research. And when my friends found out how my research was going to be conducted I had quite a few offers of help because I went to visit the local fire station. The response was absolutely brilliant—they showed me around, and even did a test call for me so I could hear exactly what everything sounded like. They also let me run my scenarios past them, and gave me some constructive suggestions about how I could make them even better. (That’s why they get the dedication for this book—they were fantastic.)

And no, I didn’t go down the firemen’s pole. Have you seen the size of those things? Scary is an understatement!

My heroine is battling with a lot in this story—major life changes—and just when she thinks she’s winning, she’s knocked over by a real tragedy. And then she discovers that love appears in the most unexpected places and can help you overcome what seem like impossible odds.

As usual, I had my editor wiping away a tear, but the ending made up for it. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. And I’m always delighted to hear from readers, so do come and visit me at www.katehardy.com (http://www.katehardy.com).

With love,

Kate Hardy


The Firefighter’s Fiancé

Kate Hardy






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




CONTENTS


Cover (#u507abed1-35c1-5c18-b8e7-b9be88b0562f)

Dear Reader (#ulink_4cfd5ce7-f2eb-50ed-8285-19a2b84dc667)

Title Page (#u580b9437-90df-58fb-b018-b41381f2dc85)

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




CHAPTER ONE (#u6057cd9c-97a6-5d57-b3c0-63876c775043)


THE familiar warble burst into the air, then the Tannoy announced, ‘Turnout, vehicle 57. RTC. Lorry and car, driver trapped.’

RTC. Three little letters that had blown Kelsey’s life apart. Changed it completely. Had it not happened, she’d have been a maths teacher by now. Married, maybe with a child.

But it had happened.

Five years ago. The driver of the car on the other side of the road had been concentrating on his mobile phone instead of the road and had hit their car head on. Kelsey had walked away without even a scratch, whereas her fiancé Danny had been rushed to hospital, with surgeons tutting at the foot of his bed and saying he’d be lucky to make it. She’d sat by his bedside for days, not sure if he’d ever come to.

And then he’d squeezed her hand.

She’d cried with relief, sure that everything was going to be OK and it was the beginning of the long road back to normal…But the day the doctors had told Danny he’d never walk again and he’d spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair, he’d asked Kelsey to return his ring. Hadn’t accepted that the wheelchair made no difference, in her eyes. ‘I don’t know what I want any more, Kelsey. I don’t know who I am any more.’

She knew who he was. The love of her life. The man she wanted to support back to health. The man she should nurse back to health.

But he didn’t let her. She wasn’t enough for him. ‘I care about you, Kelsey. I always will. But I don’t want to get married to you any more. I need…’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know what I need.’

Whatever, it wasn’t her. And Danny pushed her out of his life. Nothing she said or did was able to change his mind. Their parents, their friends: nobody was able to get through to him. It was over and he wanted her to walk away.

And in the end she had to accept it. Accept that she wasn’t what he wanted any more. That he needed to adjust to his new life, and she wasn’t going to be part of it.

She wasn’t able to face carrying out the rest of their plans on her own. The life they’d intended. So she sold their house, split the proceeds with Danny. And she walked out of her teacher training course. Being a maths teacher would have reminded her too much of the life they’d planned together. So she applied to train for something completely different. Something that would make a difference.

She became a firefighter.

A good one.

Payback, in her eyes, for having her own life saved.

Every time she heard the call over the Tannoy saying it was an RTC, it still sent adrenalin coursing through her veins. Brought back the memories, the shaky feeling, the fear that she wouldn’t get out alive. But every time she shoved the emotions back where they belonged. In the past. Because she had a job to do.

The same job she needed to do right now.

Kelsey was the nearest to the fax machine, so she ripped off the top copy and headed straight for her fire engine. The rest of the crew were sliding down the pole from the mess room and getting into their firefighting gear, which was set out ready by the doors of the fire engine—the jackets hung up, the boots ready to be stepped into and the trousers neatly rolled down round them, so they didn’t have to waste time getting things in the right order. It was a routine she knew well—one she’d practised in drill after drill, and done plenty of times before real emergency calls. She kicked off her shoes and stepped into her boots, pulled her trousers up, shrugged on her jacket and climbed into her place in the rear of the engine.

Ray, the station manager, was already in the front seat, tapping into the computer. Kelsey handed him the fax and he scanned it, taking in the map reference and details. ‘Another driver’s called us, the police and the ambulance. Nothing about any other casualties or what sort of state the road’s in. Better put your PPE and conspicuity surcoats on now,’ he said to the crew. Joe, being the driver, was exempt until they’d stopped—then he’d need to put on the gear before he got out onto the carriageway.

‘What’s the plan, guv?’ Kelsey asked.

‘If the police get there first, they can set up traffic diversion. If we’re there first, we need the “police accident” sign up while I do the risk assessment,’ Ray said. ‘Kelsey, you’re the one with ALS training.’

As well as doing an advanced life support course, she shared a house with Matt, a paramedic, which meant she’d picked up a fair bit about casualty management.

‘If the ambo team aren’t there, I’ll need you to check out the casualties,’ Ray added.

‘Sure, guv.’ Kelsey nodded.

‘Road conditions good,’ Ray reported back to Control. ‘Visibility fine.’

It wasn’t ice or fog or heavy rain that had caused the crash. It was a summer afternoon, and the sun wasn’t yet low enough to dazzle a driver. So Kelsey’s best guess would be speed. That, or someone deciding to ignore the law and use a mobile phone without a hands-free kit—and then discovering the hard way that you couldn’t use a phone and drive safely at the same time.

Something she already knew, from extremely bitter experience.

She pushed the thoughts aside and concentrated on her job.

It turned out that the fire crew were the first on the scene. Joe parked on the side in front of the crashed lorry; Ray, as the officer in charge, did the risk assessment and radioed back to Base. ‘Dual carriageway, bit of a tailback but access is fine on the main road. Other carriageway fine, just the usual rubber-necking. No injured casualties on the carriageway. We’re going to check the vehicles now. No hazardous materials being carried that we know of. Some fuel spillage that needs containing.’

Ray directed his crew to contain and absorb the fuel spillage, and lay out the firefighting equipment to cover the area. ‘Brains, can you check the casualties and report back?’

‘Sure, guv.’ Kelsey smiled back at him, not minding the nickname. The crew had chosen it once they’d found out what she’d done before she’d become a firefighter—and it told her that she was accepted. Part of the team.

The lorry driver was shaking, clearly in shock, and Kelsey took the space blanket from their limited medical kit and put it round his shoulders. ‘OK, love. The ambulance will be here soon. Any pain I need to tell the medics about when they get here?’

‘No, I’m all right. But, oh, God. The other driver…’ He shuddered. ‘I can still feel his car going under my wheels.’

‘What happened?’ she asked gently.

The lorry driver shook his head. ‘The road’s clear. I dunno. I was doing sixty. Everything was fine. He must have been going past me, in my blind spot—next thing I knew, he was…’ The driver choked.

Kelsey glanced at the carriageway. From the pattern of skidmarks and the dent in the central reservation, it looked as if the driver had hit the barrier, spun round and ricocheted back into the path of the lorry.

‘OK, love. Come and sit down at the side of the road. Take a deep breath for me. And another. That’s right.’ She guided him to a safe waiting place. ‘The medics’ll be here any minute now. I’m just going to take a look at the car and see what I can do for the driver, OK? But someone will be here to see you very, very soon. If you need anything, come and see one of us, but make sure you stay on the hard shoulder, where it’s safe.’

‘My wife. I ought to…’ He swallowed hard.

Kelsey guessed what he was trying to say. ‘We’ll get in contact with her for you, love. Soon as the police are here. Don’t use your radio or mobile phone here, will you? Fire risk,’ she said economically. There was a ten-metre exclusion zone from the incident for using radios or mobile phones—a spark could ignite any leaking fuel. She patted his shoulder. ‘Back with you in a bit, OK?’

She steeled herself for a closer look at the car. No way was the driver going to get out of the car and walk away without a scratch. But at least there wasn’t a bull’s-eye on the windscreen, so either his airbag had kicked in or he’d just been lucky and hadn’t hit the windscreen head first.

There wasn’t a huge amount she could do before the ambulance arrived. But she could go through the basics—the course she’d taken plus what she’d learned from Matt would help.

ABCDE, she reminded herself. Work through it. The same way Matt did. Airway, breathing, circulation, disability, exposure.

She could see that the driver’s door was jammed but tried it anyway. No luck. Same with the passenger’s side. But she could at least get into the back—once the car was stabilised. From the damage to the car, she thought there was a high risk of the driver having some sort of cervical spine injury, so they needed to make sure the car didn’t move.

She opened the rear door on the driver’s side so she could at least talk to him. ‘I’m Kelsey, one of the fire crew,’ she said. ‘The ambulance is on its way. What’s your name, love?’

‘Harvey.’

Good. He could speak. So his airway was clear, not blocked with blood or vomit. His breathing seemed a bit shallow; she couldn’t get a proper look to see if he was losing any blood or had circulation problems; but he’d managed to answer a question and sounded lucid, so that ticked off ‘disability’ because there weren’t any immediate neurological problems. Exposure, so they could see the extent of his injuries…Well, that would have to wait until they’d cut him out. Even an experienced paramedic like Matt would find it tough to get the driver out of this space, so the odds were they’d have to use the hydraulic equipment—known as a Hurst, but they’d all been told to use the longer name because in the muffled environment of a crash vehicle the short name sounded more like ‘hearse’ and terrified the casualties.

‘Can you tell me if you’ve got any pain?’ she asked.

‘My neck,’ he said.

Could be whiplash; could be a spinal injury. She made a mental note to tell the paramedics. ‘As soon as the ambulance is here, we’ll get a collar on you and get you out.’

‘My legs. Hurt.’

Well, that was good. It was when they didn’t feel pain that she was worried, because that meant there was likely to be damage to the nerves. ‘We’ll get you out of here soon. Can you remember what happened?’

‘No.’

OK. She’d leave that one for the police to sort out. ‘Any passengers in the car?’ she asked.

‘No, just me,’ Harvey said.

Which meant they wouldn’t have to do a search and rescue: that was a relief. ‘I’m going to talk to my station manager about the best way to get you out. I’ll be back as soon as I can, OK?’

‘Don’t leave me.’ His breath hitched. ‘Please, don’t leave me here. I—I don’t want to be alone. Please.’

She slid a hand through the gap between the door and the seat and touched his face, comforting him. ‘Hey. I’ll be back before you know it. Promise. We’ll get you out of there, love.’

Ray was already assessing the vehicle when she went to report to him. ‘Lorry driver’s in shock and sitting on the hard shoulder with a space blanket; car driver possible c-spine injury, query crush injuries but at the moment he can feel his legs. I can’t get into the front on either side.’

‘OK. When the ambo crew’s here, we’ll see whether they can work with what they have or if they need us to open the car. We’ll stabilise the vehicle for now.’

‘I’ll keep talking to him,’ Kelsey said. ‘Let him know what’s going on.’

She’d just leaned into the back of the car and reassured Harvey that they were going to make the care safe so it wouldn’t move and jolt him or cause him further injury when a hand rested in the dip of her back. A touch she recognised. A touch that melted away her tension.

‘I wondered if you’d be here. How’s it going, Kels?’

Kelsey felt a jolt of pleasure as she heard Matt’s voice. All the paramedics she worked with were good, but Matt had something extra. And it wasn’t just bias because she’d shared a house with him for eighteen months and he was officially her best friend. There was something about him. Something calming—as if he could take the weight of the whole world and keep you safe, and still keep smiling. Right now, he was the person she wanted to see more than anyone else in the world.

‘Cavalry’s arrived,’ she told Harvey with a smile. ‘Want the good news or the good news?’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘You’ve got one of the best paramedics in the area to treat you,’ she told him. ‘I’m just going to get out of his way so he can have a proper look at you, but I’ll be right here beside him.’ Where she often was: because they made a great team. Between them, they could get casualties out fast and stabilise them. Save lives. She straightened up and drew Matt back out of Harvey’s earshot. ‘His name’s Harvey. He’s talking—but not as much as he was. He’s complained of pain in his neck and his legs. I can’t tell if he’s bleeding or not—there’s too much in the way for me to see any external haemorrhage—but I don’t like his colour.’

‘Better get him out fast once we’ve got a spinal board on him,’ Matt said.

Kelsey turned to Matt’s crew partner. ‘Dale, the lorry driver’s going into shock but his breathing’s fine, he was talking lucidly, and I’ve got him sitting on the hard shoulder in a space blanket. I promised him I’d be back, but…’ She gestured to the car. ‘The driver’s in a bit of a mess. And he’s scared as hell. I couldn’t really leave him.’

‘There isn’t enough space for two of us to work here, so can you go to see the lorry driver?’ Matt asked his crew partner.

‘Sure,’ Dale said, and headed for the hard shoulder.

Ray came over. ‘The car’s stabilised, Matt. Just tell us if you need more access.’

‘Will do. Thanks, Ray.’ Matt slid into the back of the car and introduced himself quickly to Harvey. ‘I’m going to put a neck collar on you to keep your spine nice and stable.’ He assessed the situation swiftly. ‘They’re going to need to cut you out so Dale—that’s my crew partner—and I can move you safely.’

‘Mmm,’ Harvey mumbled.

Kelsey and Matt exchanged a glance as he withdrew.

‘How fast can you do it?’ Matt asked.

‘Ten, fifteen minutes,’ Kelsey said, ‘but it’s going to be noisy.’

He nodded. ‘I’ll get the collar on him while you lot get the rams and spreaders sorted. Then I’ll sit in the back with him and keep him talking while you cut him out.’

‘You’ll never squeeze into the back,’ Kelsey said. ‘I’m smaller than you—I’ll fit better. Why don’t I sit in there and protect him with the shield while the lads do the cutting? If his condition changes, I’ll give you a yell.’

‘OK. Thanks.’ He smiled at her.

By the time Matt had put the collar on Harvey, the cutting equipment was ready. ‘OK for me to go in the back?’ Kelsey asked Ray.

At his nod, she grabbed the blue tear-shaped plastic shield and slid into the back of the car.

‘Harvey, we’re going to cut you out so the paramedics have got enough space to treat you. It’s going to be noisy,’ she warned, ‘but I’m here with you. And I’m going to put this shield up so you won’t get any glass in your face or anything.’ In the past, windscreens had simply popped out; in modern cars, the windscreens were bonded to the vehicle and had to be cut through.

‘It sounds scary,’ she said. ‘But I promise you, you’ll be fine. Nothing’s going to hurt you.’

‘Do this a lot?’

He sounded slightly slurred. ‘A few times,’ Kelsey said. ‘And I’ve been cut out of a car myself. So I know what it feels like to be sitting where you are.’

The noise. The splintering glass. The fear that something was going to go wrong and you’d be hurt even more. The absolute conviction that you were going to die and you weren’t going to get the chance to say goodbye to the people who mattered.

Again, she damped down the memories. Now wasn’t the time. ‘You’ll be out of here really soon,’ she said.

Though every second seemed to drag. The noise felt as if it was never going to stop. And all the while she kept talking to Harvey, trying to get him to respond.

As soon as the fire crew had finished getting the access the paramedics needed, she climbed out of the car and Matt and Dale took over.

‘I want to get some fluids into him,’ Matt said. ‘He’s going into shock. Kels, can you do us a favour?’

‘Sure.’ It was firefighter protocol for the crew to help other teams where they were needed most once they’d done their own job in making sure the area was safe. And she’d worked with Matt enough times to know what he wanted her to do. ‘Hold the drip and squeeze the bag so you can get the fluids in faster?’

He blew her a kiss. ‘Perfect answer. We’ll make a paramedic of you yet.’

‘Not before we make a firefighter out of you,’ she retorted with a grin.

‘Oi, do you mind? I’m not losing my best partner ever,’ Dale cut in. ‘No, we’d rather pinch you for our team, Brains. Then we might stand a chance in the pub quiz.’

‘No way. Your uniform’s not as sexy as mine.’ She winked at him. ‘Isn’t that right, Harvey? Firefighters are sexier than paramedics?’

Their patient mumbled something none of them could understand. Matt raised an eyebrow and put the line in Harvey’s arm and directed Kelsey to start squeezing the fluid through. Calm, professional, no hint of panic in his voice—even though Kelsey could tell from the look on his face that Harvey was in for a rough time.

But when it came to moving him… ‘His leg’s stuck,’ Matt said grimly.

‘What do you need—dashboard roll or pedal release?’ Kelsey asked.

‘Pedals.’

‘OK. I can do that.’ She handed the drip bag back to him and grabbed the cutters. She slid the shield over Harvey’s legs to protect him, then used the cutters to snap the pedal that had trapped Harvey’s foot.

‘Remind me not to arm-wrestle you,’ Matt said as she gently moved the pedal away to allow Matt to finish getting Harvey out of the car.

‘Chicken,’ she teased.

‘I’d be chicken, too,’ Dale said with a grin.

She put her hands on her hips and tutted. ‘Weaklings, the pair of you.’

‘Yeah, yeah. But thanks for your help, Kels.’ Matt’s eyes crinkled at the corners. Amazing blue eyes, the colour of a summer evening sky. Eyes that had reputedly melted every female’s heart at the hospital, though Matt rarely dated—a fact which shouldn’t have pleased Kelsey nearly as much as it did.

‘Any time.’ She smiled back at him. ‘See you later.’

‘And don’t forget it’s your turn to cook tonight,’ he reminded her as he and Dale gently manoeuvred Harvey onto the stretcher.

Kelsey grimaced. Cooking was such a waste of time. Spending hours fiddling about with food when it would all be eaten within ten minutes. ‘It’s Friday. I’ll bring a takeaway home.’

‘I suppose at least you can’t burn that,’ Matt said, laughing, as he headed for the ambulance.

‘Ah, but if she does at least she’s a trained firefighter and can put out the blaze,’ Joe teased, walking over to them. ‘Ready, Brains?’

‘Sure,’ Kelsey said as the ambulance doors closed behind Matt.

‘So have you two finally seen the light and got together?’ Joe asked as they headed back to the fire engine.

‘Don’t be so daft.’ She waved his comment aside. ‘We’re just friends. Good friends.’

Joe made a face that told her he didn’t believe a word of it.

She rolled her eyes. ‘It is possible for men and women to be just friends, you know. Look at you and me.’

‘That’s different,’ Joe said, sounding smug. ‘We’re colleagues.’

‘Matt’s like my brother,’ Kelsey protested.

‘Hmm. I don’t look at my sister like that. And she doesn’t look at me like that either.’

‘Like what?’ she asked.

Joe shrugged. ‘Work it out for yourself, Brains.’

She flapped a hand at him again. ‘Maggie’s obviously dragged you to too many girly films lately. You’re fantasising.’

‘You,’ Joe said sweetly, ‘need to come back from Egypt.’

‘What?’

‘Out of denial. De Nile,’ he added, to ram his point home further.

Kelsey didn’t dignify the corny old joke with a reply. Of course she wasn’t in love—or even lust—with Matt Fraser. She had red blood in her veins so, just like any other woman, she could appreciate how good-looking he was. Blond, slightly shaggy hair; broad shoulders and toned body from all the physical work he did; stunning blue eyes and a smile that brightened any room. But it was the same way she’d appreciate a good-looking guy in a TV ad. Matt was her best friend. Her housemate. And that was all.

Wasn’t it?




CHAPTER TWO (#u6057cd9c-97a6-5d57-b3c0-63876c775043)


‘HARVEY MITCHELL, aged thirty-two. Cut out of a car at RTC.’ Matt went through the rest of the handover to the registrar on the way through to Resus, detailing the action they’d taken at the scene and the pain relief they’d given already. ‘Query c-spine injury, complained of pains in leg, and his foot was trapped under a pedal.’

‘OK, we’ll take it from here.’ Janice Horton, the registrar, smiled at him. ‘Cheers, Matt.’

‘Pleasure.’ He smiled back. ‘And this time I’m crossing my fingers that I actually get to drink my coffee before the next shout.’

‘Come and sneak into our rest room and I’ll get you a mug of coffee. Just let me know how you take it,’ the nurse walking out of Resus said. She smiled at him. ‘I’m Shona Barton, by the way. Staff nurse. I started here yesterday.’

‘Matt Fraser, and this is Dale Lewis.’ He smiled back at her. ‘Thanks for the offer, love, but it’s Friday afternoon so I reckon you’re just about to be rushed off your feet.’

‘Maybe we could have a drink later, then?’

Was it his imagination, or had she just wiggled her hips at him?

Shona was pretty, in a pocket Venus sort of way. Blonde hair that she’d pinned back but which obviously fell almost to her waist if she wore it down. And the trousers and tunic she wore did absolutely nothing to disguise her curves. Lush curves. Curves that would have most of the ambulance crew on their knees and panting.

And she’d just asked him out.

Oh, hell. How could he say no without sounding snotty? And he had to be very careful what he said—rumours ripped through the hospital like wildfire, so if he claimed he was already spoken for there would be all kinds of speculation. Speculation he could do without. He didn’t need a love life. He had his job, and that was enough for him. ‘Thanks for the offer, Shona, but I’m afraid I’m already doing something tonight.’ Sleeping. On his own. But she didn’t need to know that.

‘Another time?’

‘Yeah, maybe. You know how it is.’ He gave her an apologetic smile. ‘Shifts never matching up.’ Though his happened to match Kelsey’s exactly. Two days, two nights and four off. His shifts weren’t quite the same as hers—seven in the morning until six at night for days, whereas she worked from nine until six. He worked six at night until seven in the morning for nights, whereas she worked from six until nine—but they were a pretty good fit.

‘I could always swap shifts to match yours,’ Shona suggested.

Damn. He hadn’t thought of that. ‘Yeah. Maybe.’ Like not. ‘I’d better sort out my paperwork. Catch you later.’

‘Paperwork?’ Dale asked softly, once they were on the way back to the ambulance station.

‘Uh. Yeah.’ Matt ignored his crew partner’s raised eyebrow. And Dale let him change the subject—but the rest of the crew at the station had plenty to say when they heard the gossip.

‘You’ve got to be kidding! He turned Venus down?’ Kirk asked.

Matt frowned. Had he missed something? ‘Who’s Venus?’

Dale rolled his eyes. ‘You know. Long blonde hair. All curves. Sweet, sweet smile. Has all the single male paramedics on their knees begging for a date—and probably half the doctors in the hospital as well.’

Obviously he still looked blank, because Kirk sighed. ‘The new nurse in the emergency department,’ he added. ‘The gorgeous one. The one that started yesterday. The one that apparently asked you out this afternoon.’

‘Oh. Shona, you mean.’

‘And you said no?’ Kirk shook his head. ‘Oh, dearie me. Maybe Dale should hook you up to the ECG before your next shout.’

Matt took a swig of his coffee. ‘What are you on about?’

‘Someone needs to check you still have a pulse,’ Kirk retorted.

‘Course he’s got a pulse,’ Dale said.

Kirk scoffed. ‘I dunno. If he’s turning down gorgeous women like that…’

‘Look, not everyone wants to date six different women a week,’ Matt said.

‘Better than not dating at all,’ Kirk sniped.

Matt knew if he responded, the situation would escalate and turn ugly. So he ignored the comment and carried on going through his paperwork.

But Kirk was clearly spoiling for an argument. ‘What’s the matter? Doesn’t Venus match up to the girl of your dreams?’ he asked.

‘Probably not,’ Matt said coolly.

Kirk started whistling the theme from Trumpton, a classic children’s animated TV series about a fire brigade, which had given the paramedics an affectionate nickname for their local fire service.

Matt, knowing exactly what his colleague was getting at, sighed. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘He’s right,’ Dale said to Kirk. ‘Sure, he lives with Kelsey—but, nah, he doesn’t fancy her. She’s like his sister.’

‘Best friend, actually,’ Matt pointed out. ‘Off limits.’

Kirk rubbed his chin. ‘She’s not like Venus—too skinny, too tall, too serious—but, yeah, I’d buy the Trumptons’ charity calendar this year if Kelsey was on it.’ He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. ‘Especially if she was topless. Or better. I wouldn’t mind seeing her in nothing but a fire helmet.’

The reflex that had Matt’s right hand balling into a fist shocked him. He made an effort to relax his hand. ‘Kels wouldn’t do that sort of thing.’

‘Pity.’ Kirk’s grin broadened. ‘They’d sell truckloads if she did.’

‘Hmm,’ was all Matt trusted himself to say. And if Kirk ever asked Kelsey out, Matt would make damned sure that Kelsey said no. Kirk wasn’t good enough for her. Wasn’t anywhere near good enough for her. He didn’t want Kirk’s grubby paws touching Kelsey. Didn’t want anyone touching Kelsey, actually. But he shoved that thought to the back of his mind.

To his relief, there was a call on his intercom. ‘We’d better get going. I’ll drive so you can finish your coffee,’ he said to Dale. He climbed into the driver’s side of their ambulance and radioed back to Control. ‘On our way.’

‘You OK?’ Dale asked as Matt drove off.

Matt shrugged. ‘Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?’

Dale shifted in his seat. ‘Teasing you about Kelsey.’

‘Doesn’t bother me.’

‘I saw your hands,’ Dale said softly, ‘when Kirk made that remark about the calendar. Look, cut him some slack. He’s still hurting about his divorce. That’s why he’s desperate to date as many women as he can. To prove he’s not a complete loser.’

‘Hmm,’ was all Matt said.

Dale sighed. ‘Ow. I know. You’ve already been there. Not a loser, I mean. And not divorced. But you were as good as married to Cassie. And I’m putting my size twelves in it today, big time. I’m sorry.’

‘No worries. I’m over it now.’ It had taken Matt nearly eighteen months to lick his wounds. They’d healed. He and Cassie hadn’t been right for each other anyway. She hadn’t understood his job or why he didn’t mind the unsocial hours; and he hadn’t wanted to change and fit into her world, swap the job he loved for one where he didn’t feel alive and as if he was making a difference.

‘As for Kelsey—I mean, I like her. We all do.’

Matt heard what Dale wasn’t saying. ‘But?’

‘But you’re storing yourself up a hell of a lot of heartache if you’ve fallen for her, Matt. She doesn’t do serious relationships. She parties hard—she’s the first one at the end of a pizza night out to suggest going on to a club—but she doesn’t let anyone close. You know the score.’

Nobody serious since Danny. Most of the time Matt and Kelsey didn’t talk about it. But on the rare occasions when they did, Kelsey was adamant. She liked her life just as it was. And Matt could understand that. Life as it was suited him, too.

‘I haven’t fallen for her,’ Matt said.

Dale’s response was a measured ‘Hmm’.

And then they were at the shout so the conversation was lost.

By the time they’d checked out the woman who’d called 999 with chest pains, taken an ECG and then brought her into the emergency department for further tests and observation, it was forgotten about. All the same, Matt was thoughtful as he cycled home at the end of his shift. Had he fallen for Kelsey? Was she the girl of his dreams?

She was his best friend. His housemate. They swapped horror stories at the end of their shifts and they knew when the other needed a hug and a shared tub of ice cream. They shared the same set of friends, went out with the same crowds—the crews at the ambulance station all knew her, and the crews at the fire station all knew him. As Dale had said, Kelsey partied hard but she almost never dated—and when she did date, she didn’t stay out all night or bring anyone home.

Matt didn’t date much either, but it went with the job. Long hours, tough calls and a social life that sometimes had to take second place to your job. If you were in the middle of a shout when your shift ended, you couldn’t just dump your patient and tell them to wait for the next crew. That was the whole thing about being an emergency service. And if there was a major incident, even if you were off shift you’d go in and do your bit. It went with the territory. He’d already learned that the hard way when he’d had to make the choice between his fiancée and his job.

His job had won.

All the same…A picture of Kelsey flashed into his mind. Short hair, cheeky grin, sparkling grey eyes. Kirk had called her tall and skinny—no, that wasn’t true. Matt had trained in the gym with her enough times when they had been on nights and wanted to wind down at the end of their shifts. Tall, yes; slender, yes; but Kelsey definitely had curves. And the way she looked in a plain black swimsuit was enough to make any man’s blood pressure rise a couple of notches.

He shook himself. He was not about to wreck a seriously good relationship by dating her. Kelsey was his sounding board. The person he’d listen to at three in the morning if she needed him—and he knew that she’d do exactly the same for him. His best friend. His housemate. Dating each other would be a disaster. One of them would end up having to find a new place to live. No, it was best to keep things as they were.

The open windows told Kelsey that Matt was home. Good. So she wasn’t going to have to juggle her briefcase and the carrier bag full of take-away Indian food and use her frontdoor key at the same time. She pushed down the handle of the front door with her elbow and swung her hip to open the door. Perfect. She closed the door with another swing of her hips.

Matt appeared in the living-room doorway. ‘A normal person would ring the doorbell. Or at least accept help.’

‘You can help if you want to.’ She grinned and handed him the carrier bag. ‘Dinner is served, m’lord.’

‘Good. I’m starving. I nearly raided your chocolate stash.’

‘You’d better not have done.’ She set her briefcase on the floor and followed him into the kitchen. ‘I’m studying tonight.’Although the fire service had changed their training so you didn’t have to sit a raft of promotional exams any more, you still needed to know the theory and technical details, so you could prove that you knew what you were doing and met the competencies to go up to the next grade. Which meant studying. ‘I need that chocolate,’ she added. ‘It’s Friday night. Aren’t you going out?’

‘Not tonight. I want to do a couple of hours’ studying and then just chill.’ She smiled inwardly when she saw the neatly set table in their kitchen-diner. Typical Matt. All the other people she knew in the emergency services would just take the cardboard off the take-away foil container and dig in with a spoon. Matt was much, much more domesticated. Though, to look at him right now, with his shaggy hair and the fact he needed a shave, nobody would guess it. He looked more like a guitarist in a rock band than a paramedic. He looked sexy as hell.

And she really had to stop thinking about that before she screwed up their friendship. Matt was off limits.

‘So how was your day?’ he asked, taking the lid off the pilau rice and spooning the rice onto their plates.

‘OK. We had a quiet afternoon after that RTC—just a kitchen fire that was out by the time we got there. Did you know, there was a newspaper report today that most RTCs happen between four and seven on a Friday afternoon?’

‘I can believe it. Mixture of the “thank God it’s Friday” feeling and people being physically tired at the end of the week. Their concentration goes.’ Matt beamed when he opened the next lid. ‘Oh, you star. Chicken kashmiri. My favourite.’

‘And far better than if I’d cooked it for you.’

‘Yep. Means we don’t have to call your lot to put out the flames in the oven—or my lot to rescue us from the food poisoning afterwards,’ he teased.

‘Oh, ha, ha.’ She walked over to the fridge. ‘Two nights, then four blissful days off.’ Luckily their shifts were pretty much the same. Her night shifts were slightly longer than Matt’s, but at least one of them didn’t have to creep around the house on days off while the other was on nights.

‘Nearly twenty-four hours until I’m due back in at the station. I could go wild and have a few beers tonight. But I need a clear head to work on my fire management stuff. So I think I’ll stick to just the one.’ She uncapped two bottles and brought them over to the table. It had taken her six months to persuade Matt that cold beer tasted better from a bottle than a glass. And why make extra washing-up?

He finished dishing up the curry, then lifted his bottle in salute. ‘Cheers. Here’s to us. Top team.’

‘Top team,’ she echoed.

Which they were. Since she’d shared the house with Matt, she’d always felt she was coming home, not just going back to rented digs.

Not that she and Matt had that type of relationship. They were just friends. Best of friends. Had been ever since he’d moved into the house eighteen months ago, when his engagement to Cassie had broken up and Sarah—the paramedic who’d originally shared the house with Kelsey—had asked her if Matt could use their spare room for a few nights.

But it had worked so well that Matt had stayed. And although Sarah had moved out to live with her boyfriend in London a few months ago, Matt and Kelsey hadn’t bothered replacing the third person in the house. It was comfortable, just the two of them.

Cassie had been crazy, Kelsey thought. She really couldn’t have had any idea what she had missed. What she had given up. A smart, funny guy who was good at his job, respected by everyone—and was domesticated into the bargain.

Mr Perfect.

Except Kelsey wasn’t going to let herself take that last step. Been there, done that. She wasn’t giving herself the chance ever again to lose anyone who mattered to her. Besides, why wreck the best relationship she’d ever had for a short-term fling?

‘Penny for them?’ Matt asked.

Oh, no. She wasn’t going to tell him that. She smiled. ‘Nothing much. How was your day, by the way?’

‘Usual summer Friday. One case of heatstroke in the park; one bad back from someone who’d overdone it in the garden yesterday and couldn’t even get out of bed; then a maternataxi case.’

Paramedic jargon for a pregnant woman who’d left it way too late to ring the maternity unit to say she was having contractions, then had to be rushed to hospital in an ambulance—and Kelsey knew that Matt had delivered a few babies in his time.

‘Then it was your RTA—’

‘RTC,’ Kelsey corrected.

‘RTA,’ Matt continued with a grin. ‘I’m using ambo terminology, not fire. After you, there was a possible heart attack, and then it was the end of my shift. Did you have a lousy day before the RTA?’

‘School safety visit this morning, one out-of-control barbecue at lunchtime—can you believe that people actually think it’s a good idea to throw lighter fuel on top of a lit barbecue?’ She flexed her shoulders. ‘I enjoyed doing the safety visit.’

‘You always do. It’s the teacher in you,’ Matt said.

‘Well, I’m not a teacher any more. Never was, really.’ She shrugged. ‘I walked out before I qualified.’

‘Ever regret it?’

She shook her head. ‘I love what I do now. Same as you. You never know what you’re going to face when you go on shift. Could be absolutely anything. Could be quiet, could be rushed off your feet—and I wouldn’t swap it for anything.’

Sometimes she thought that she got a buzz from the danger—the risks she took were calculated, but her job was still dangerous. Like Matt’s. It was one of the reasons Cassie hadn’t been able to handle Matt’s job—as well as the unsocial hours, there was the fact that he could always be hurt on duty. He had to deal with Friday or Saturday night callouts in the middle of the city, where people had been drinking or doing drugs—the wrong word at the wrong time, and they could react badly. Lash out or put a knife through his ribs.

Then again, Kelsey routinely had to face explosions, flashovers, clearing up dangerous chemicals…It would take someone special to understand why the danger was never uppermost in her mind when she was at work. Her focus was rescuing someone from a bad situation, putting their life back together again. Mending the hurt. Just like Matt did.

When they’d finished dinner, they cleared the table. Kelsey picked up the teatowel, ready to dry the dishes, but Matt took it from her with a smile. ‘Leave this. You’re studying. Two hours, you said.’

‘Ye-es.’

‘So why don’t I go to the video shop and hire us a good film? We can start watching the film at half-nine—you’ll still be in bed by midnight.’

Typical Matt: this was his way of making sure she didn’t work too hard, but without nagging her. Thoughtful. She adored him for it. ‘Sounds just about perfect,’ she said with a smile. ‘Thanks, Matt.’

‘No worries.’ He flapped the teatowel at her. ‘Go do your studying. I’ll sort this.’

Two hours later, there was a rap on her door.

‘Come in.’

‘Hey. I have popcorn, a tub of ice cream and that new thriller that went on release today.’

‘What flavour ice cream?’

‘Strawberry cheesecake.’

Her favourite. Kelsey saved her file and shut down her laptop. ‘I’m there.’ She followed him downstairs and flopped on the sofa next to him.

The perfect Friday night. A good film, her best friend and her favourite munchies.

‘If you guess who did it, just don’t tell me,’ Matt said.

‘As if I would,’ she teased. She rolled her shoulders, easing the kinks out of them.

‘You study in the wrong position, you know. Slumped over your desk. It’s hardly surprising you get backache. Come here and I’ll sort that out for you.’ He nudged her round so that her back was to him, and began massaging her shoulders.

‘Mmm.’ Kelsey almost purred with pleasure. He knew just the right spot to touch her. ‘If you ever decide you’ve had enough of being a paramedic, you could make a fortune as a masseur.’

‘But then I’d be stuck in one place, and I’d know exactly what I was doing every day. It’s like you said earlier—I get a buzz in never knowing what I’m going to face when I go on shift. Though I don’t need to explain that to you. You’re the same.’

‘Yeah.’ And it was good. Living on the edge. Making a real difference to people’s lives.

‘Better?’ he asked, just resting his hands lightly on her shoulders.

For a moment she was tempted to say no. So he’d continue touching her. And then maybe, if she leaned back against him, he’d let his hands slip lower to cup her breasts and—

No. Oh, hell. She shouldn’t have listened to Joe earlier that day. Having to face a traffic accident and cut someone out of a car had rattled her a bit, stirred up the feelings she normally kept compartmentalised and locked away. And, good as sex would undoubtedly be with Matt, she wasn’t going to mess things up between them for the sake of one night’s comfort.

She shook herself mentally. ‘Much better, thanks. And for that you get first dibs on the ice cream.’

And she wasn’t going to watch the spoon going up to his mouth and wonder what his mouth might feel like against hers.

At all.




CHAPTER THREE (#u6057cd9c-97a6-5d57-b3c0-63876c775043)


EVERYTHING was fine until the following Friday afternoon. A quarter to four. It had been quiet all day—too quiet—and then there was the familiar warble before the Tannoy message. ‘Turnout, vehicles 5 and 57. Fire at Bannington Primary School. Query trapped people.’

The primary school was about ten miles from the city centre. Kelsey’s crew had talked to the kids there about fire safety only last week. And it was the school Ray’s daughter attended—Finn had been delighted, last week, that her dad had brought his fire engine.

Please, God, let it be minor damage, Kelsey begged silently. Let it be a fire in a wastebin or something. Let it be something we can put out. Let nobody be hurt.

She’d never had to deal with a school fire before. Sure, she’d rescued kids from the back of a smashed-up car or from a small house fire, but she’d never faced anything like this. Even the factory fire she’d attended last year hadn’t worried her that much: although some workers had been trapped, they’d been able to follow instructions and she’d known it would work out just fine. There’d been minor burns and smoke inhalation, nothing too major. But with kids there was always the problem that they wouldn’t understand or they’d be too frightened to do what you told them. And they weren’t physically as able to deal with smoke inhalation and the heat of a raging fire as well as adults did.

Ray looked grim as the fire engine sped on its way out of the city. Kelsey could guess what was going through his mind and leaned forward, resting her hand on his shoulder. ‘Guv, school finishes at three. The kids will all have gone home. Finn will be fine.’

‘There’s after-school club for the kids whose parents are still at work,’ Ray said tersely. ‘I know Finn won’t be there, but some of her friends might be.’

‘Hey. Might even be a false alarm—like it usually is when we get a callout to the university,’ Paul said.

‘Let’s hope,’ Ray said, his voice clipped. ‘Police and the ambo team have been called as well.’

But when they turned into School Road, they could see smoke.

Ray swore. ‘They don’t have a sprinkler system, except in the new block.’

Kelsey remembered that the main part of the school was Victorian, a rambling building that had grown along with the urban sprawl of the town. It was full of corridors and small rooms and with varying levels to the floor. The kind of building that always worried firefighters because the layout wasn’t logical and the access points weren’t always clear. She also knew that Ray, as a school governor, had been agitating to get sprinklers fitted to the main building but the project had been tied up in arguments between the planning authority and the education authority over listed building regulations. There had been holdup after hold-up over the proposed changes to the building while they had tried to reach a compromise that would satisfy both areas. With sprinklers, the fire would be less serious. Without, who knew what they’d face?

‘Guv, they’ve probably got everyone out. The teachers’ll be waiting in the playground, having ticked all the kids’ names off,’ Kelsey suggested.

‘Maybe. But you know as well as I do that the worst time for us is after-school club—the numbers attending vary, and some of the kids there don’t go there full time so they don’t really know the layout of the building. It’s not like daytime where everyone knows exactly what’s going on. Right, everyone. Full PPE on.’ Personal protective equipment—because this could easily turn nasty. ‘Joe, stay with the vehicle.’

‘Right, guv,’ Joe said as he parked the fire engine.

‘Paul, I want you as BAECO.’ The BAECO, or breathing apparatus entry co-ordinator, kept the control board with all the firefighters’ tallies in place, so he knew who was in the building, how long they’d been in there and when they’d need to be out again.

‘Right, guv,’ Paul said.

‘Kelsey, you and Mark set the hydrant and get extra water while the other crew start putting water on the blaze—the tanks aren’t going to be enough for this.’ Each fire engine carried eighteen hundred litres of water in its tanks—enough to deal with a small bedroom fire in a house, but not enough for what could potentially be a huge blaze.

‘Right, guv,’ they chorused.

The fire alarm was shrilling; there were four adults and a number of children marshalled on the grass at the side of the building furthest from the fire.

One of them came straight over to the fire crew. Clearly the head or one of Finn’s teachers, Kelsey thought from the way she greeted Ray—she obviously knew him.

‘What happened, Brenda?’ he asked.

‘I heard a bang, then the smoke detectors went off. I think the boiler must have exploded,’ Brenda said. ‘I’ve got one of the after-school groups out but the other’s cut off in the far end. One teacher, two assistants and around twenty kids.’

Ray called in to Control. ‘I want another engine in and as many BA sets as you can give me,’ he said. When fighting a fire, the crew went through breathing apparatus sets more quickly than usual, so they needed as many available as possible. ‘We’ve got three adults and twenty or so kids trapped. We’re going to get them out and start on the blaze.’ He turned back to Brenda. ‘Any flammable stuff we need to know about?’

‘Most of the classrooms have art materials. Paper, glue, paint and the like. There’s the chemistry stuff in the lab, but that’s at the far end.’

‘Near the trapped kids. So far, not near the fire. OK, we’ll bear that in mind.’ He nodded and turned to the crew. ‘We’ll split the building into three sectors. Andy and Neil, I want you two in sector one where the boiler is. Pete and Tom, I want you in sector two, the classrooms between the boiler room and the toilets in the middle of the school. Kelsey and Mark, I want you in sector three—the far end of the school. It doesn’t look as if the fire’s there yet so get them out as quickly as you can. We’ll see how the fire’s going after that, and I might need you to work on the science lab.’

They all checked in with Paul, handing him the tallies from their breathing apparatus sets. He slotted them into the board, wrote their names and the time in beside them, checked the pressure of the oxygen cylinders and used the dial to work out the time when they needed to be out, and marked that on the grid next to it.

Kelsey and Mark took axes with them and headed for the classroom at the far end.

‘Has to be a window,’ Mark said.

The windows were tall and narrow, typically Victorian. ‘I’m thinner than you,’ Kelsey said when they’d cleared the glass from one of the frames. ‘Makes sense for me to go in.’ She unbuckled her breathing apparatus.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Mark demanded, sounding shocked.

‘There’s no smoke in the classroom right now so I don’t need my BA set—and, anyway, it’s easier for me to climb through the window without the extra bulk, let alone carrying the thirty pounds of kit,’ Kelsey said. ‘Give us a leg up.’

‘But, Brains—’

‘No time to argue. Let’s get them out.’

‘OK, but I’m putting the BA set through after you. And you make sure you put it on when you get back in,’ he demanded, ‘even if you don’t have the mask on.’

‘Deal.’ She clambered onto the window-sill with Mark’s help and squeezed through the gap, then took the breathing apparatus he pushed through after her. ‘Hi, my name’s Kelsey. You might remember me from last week when Finn’s dad brought the fire engine in,’ she said, smiling at the children. ‘Now, we’re going to have to go out of the room a different way today, because we can’t use the door.’ No smoke was seeping through it yet, but there were no guarantees it would stay that way. ‘Can you all be brave for me?’

Some of the younger ones were sobbing. The sound ripped at her but she forced herself to ignore it. She had a job to do. And her first duty was to calm everyone right down. Giving in to her emotions and crying or screaming herself would just scare everyone and make it harder to get them out.

‘Hey, give us a smile. Makes it easier to lift you,’ she said. She turned to the three adults, who’d been trying to keep the children calm. ‘I need one of you to help me lift the children through the window, and two of you outside—one to help lift them out into the playground and one to check off the names.’

‘I’m Jane, the classroom assistant. I’ll stay inside,’ the youngest one said immediately.

‘Thanks. Can you get them all to line up, littlest at the front? And can you two help me get a table to the window?’ she asked the other two adults.

Together, they dragged a table to the window. The two older women clambered onto the table, squeezed through the window and were helped down by Mark. Then, between them, Kelsey and Jane lifted the children one at a time onto the table and handed them through the window into Mark’s waiting arms.

‘Just think, you can tell your mum what an exciting day you’ve had and how you’ve climbed through the window like a real firefighter,’ Kelsey said, trying to reassure the children.

A couple of the kids were still crying.

‘But it’s not exciting. There’s a fire, we’re trapped and we’re all going to die!’ one of the older kids said, his voice shrill with panic.

‘There’s a fire, yes. But I’m a firefighter and I’m going to put the blaze out,’ she told him calmly. ‘You can’t go through the door, but you’re not trapped because we’re lifting you out through the window. And you are most definitely not going to die. Not when Yellow Watch is here.’

‘Finn’s daddy is a fireman,’ one of them piped up.

‘That’s right. He’s a very good fireman. And he’s my boss. So you’re all going to be absolutely fine,’ Kelsey reassured her, continuing to lift the children out through the window one by one. ‘Just stay still so we can get you through safely, because there’s broken glass around here and I don’t want any of you to get cut.’

But the boy who’d panicked earlier struggled as she lifted him through the window. Immediately, he cried out. ‘My leg!’

He was wearing shorts, so the streak of blood was visible on his leg immediately. Quite a deep cut, from the jagged glass around the smashed window—and there was a chance that there was some glass in the wound. At least it wasn’t spurting blood, she thought, so he hadn’t nicked an artery. ‘OK, sweetheart, we’ll sort you out. Just hold still and we’ll get you out to safety. I know it hurts, but one of the ambulance team will look at your leg and make sure you’re OK. And I think they have bravery awards for special boys,’ she soothed. ‘Mark, is the ambo team here yet?’

‘We certainly are,’ a deep voice informed her.

Matt. She didn’t even need to look to know it was him. And suddenly the tension in her shoulders began to ease. Everything was going to be fine: there was nobody she’d trust more for support. She grinned. ‘Hey. What kept you, slowcoach?’

‘We don’t have the same go-faster stripes as your lot,’ he teased back. ‘You OK, Kels?’

‘Sure. Four more to go and we’re out of here. Can you look at this young man’s leg for me? And I think he might need a bravery award as well.’

‘Sounds about right. Come on, mate, I’ll carry you over to the ambulance,’ Matt said, taking the child from her. ‘We’ll sort out that cut and get you a special award.’

When she and Jane had handed the last child through, Kelsey asked, ‘That’s definitely everyone?’

Jane nodded. ‘I think so.’

‘Good. Through you go.’ Kelsey helped her through the window into Mark’s arms. She’d pushed her BA set back through to Mark and was halfway through the gap in the window herself—protected by her gloves and fire gear—when one of the children called, ‘Where’s Mikey and Lucy?’

Ah, hell. She should’ve thought. In situations like these, the kids were usually better at knowing who was there and who wasn’t than the teachers—they remembered if their friend was in late because they’d been to the dentist, or had gone home early because they’d been sick. Registers were only accurate at the time they were taken—all sorts of things could change during the school day.

The class teacher did a head count and was clearly running through the register in her mind. ‘They’re not here.’

‘They were definitely in today?’ At the teacher’s nod, Kelsey asked, ‘Where are they likely to be?’

‘Heaven knows with Mikey—he’s never still for more than three seconds,’ the teacher said, sounding grim.

‘You’re sure he isn’t out there and hasn’t just slipped out of the line and gone onto the playground or something?’

The teacher shook her head. ‘They’re all strictly in line, except Edward, who’s in the ambulance having his leg patched up.’

‘Right. I’ll go back and check the cupboards,’ Kelsey said. Sometimes a fire scared kids so much that they’d hide in a confined space. ‘Or maybe they’ve gone to the toilet. I’ll check. What do they look like?’

‘Mikey’s tall and skinny, blond hair, and Lucy’s small and dark-haired,’ Jane told her. ‘I’ll come with you.’

Kelsey shook her head. ‘No, it’s too dangerous. Stay there and see if any of the kids remember them disappearing, or if they heard where Mikey or Lucy was planning to go. Any news, contact me on my radio. Where are the toilets?’

‘Out of the door, turn right, and they’re on the left-hand side at the end of the corridor.’

Near the flames. OK. Kelsey climbed back through the window. ‘Mark, give me the BA set. The pressure’s at 300 so I’ve got forty minutes.’

He handed the set through. ‘Forty minutes in normal conditions—but you know it’s less than that in a fire. I want you on your way back when the pressure’s down to 200.’ Which was less than halfway through the cylinder, because she needed to leave a safety margin. You had to be prepared for anything in a fire. ‘Keep in radio contact, and as soon as you’re in a compartment with smoke do a left-hand search from the doorway,’ Mark added.

A left-hand search meant keeping her left hand in contact with the wall. Then, if she wasn’t back to her starting point when the pressure in her oxygen tank reached 200, she’d turn round so her right hand was against the wall and work her way back. In a smoke-filled room, you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, so working by touch was the only way to get back where you started.

Mikey, who was never still for more than three seconds…tall and skinny and blond…Kelsey remembered him now from Yellow Watch’s recent visit to the school. He’d touched everything and fiddled with things, but he’d also been quickwitted and taken everything she’d said on board when she’d shown him round the engine, asked lots of questions and said he really wanted to be a firefighter when he was older. If he managed to contain his energy, he’d be a good one, Kelsey thought.

She put her breathing apparatus set on her back but left the mask off. ‘Mikey? Lucy? If you’re here, come out. You win the hiding game, but we need to get out of here.’

Silence.

She checked the cupboards in the classroom anyway. Nothing. ‘Classroom empty,’ she reported into her radio. ‘I’m going into the corridor.’ Which was full of smoke. ‘I’ll check the toilets first.’ Hopefully the kids would’ve remembered what they’d said at the talk last week: if you’re in a fire, get down because smoke rises.

And it was smoke that killed.

Left-hand search. She put her hand to the wall. Through her gloves, she could feel that the walls were panelled. Not good—because you could think you’d put a blaze out when the fire had actually travelled through the panelling and could break out somewhere else. She’d need to keep an eye out for white smoke, presaging of a flashover.

‘Lucy? Mikey?’ Her voice was muffled through the mask, but she couldn’t risk taking it off. ‘Scream if you can hear me. Scream as loud as you can.’

Nothing but the dull roar of the flames.

She made her way through to the toilets. Searched them thoroughly. ‘Nothing in the toilets,’ she said. ‘And all doors in the corridor are closed on the left-hand side. Ask Jane if there’s a room Mikey likes most.’

‘Roger.’ She heard Mark calling to Jane, then he reported back. ‘No, the kid could be anywhere.’

‘OK. I’ll do a room-by-room search.’

‘You’ve got two minutes before you need to turn round and come back,’ Mark warned.

‘I’m fine.’

‘I want you back out of there. We’ll get more people in to search each room,’ Mark said.

It was frustrating, but she knew he was talking sense. ‘OK. Turning round and coming back right-handed.’ Her hand trailed along the wall. ‘Hang on. I’ve got an open door here. It wasn’t open on my way in. I’m going to check this room.’

‘Brains, get out of there.’

She couldn’t. Not with two kids missing. ‘Two minutes. You said I had two minutes. And there’s the safety margin on top of that, so I’ve got loads of time. I’m closing the door behind me. There’s only a tiny bit of smoke in here, top of the room.’ Smoke always rose. But she needed to keep an eye on it in case the gases at the top of the room were superheated and there was a flashover. ‘I’m in the third room between the classroom and the toilets. Send the relief team in and I’ll hand over.’

‘Paul says get out now, Brains.’

‘Two minutes,’ she repeated stubbornly—though she really wanted five. ‘Lucy? Mikey? Are you there? You’re not going to be in trouble, I promise. But there’s a fire and I just want to get you out safely.’

‘Brains, you’re better at calculating than the rest of us—you don’t even need the dial on a BAECO board to work out how much time you have. You know the drill—if you put yourself in danger we’re risking the kids and yourself. Get out now,’ Mark demanded.

‘I’m fine, Mark. And I heard something. I heard someone crying just now. I think they’re here in the cupboard and they’re too scared to come out.’

‘Get out of there, Kelsey.’ A different voice this time. Matt’s. ‘I heard what Mark said. Get out. There’s another team coming in.’

‘I’m fine,’ she repeated stubbornly. ‘But you stay put because I might be bringing two kids out with smoke inhalation or burns, and I’ll need your help.’ She took her mask off for a moment. ‘Mikey, it’s Kelsey—remember me on the fire engine last week? You know me. You’re not in trouble, I promise. But I need you to act like a firefighter. And firefighters always have to tell each other where they are. I’m here near the door. Where are you? Is Lucy with you?’

The cupboard door opened. Mikey and a little girl were standing there, clutching each other and not moving.

‘It’s OK, we can get out of here.’ The hanging mask was going to be a hindrance. ‘I’m putting my mask back on and then we’re going to make a run for it, OK?’

She’d just fastened her mask and was halfway across the room when there was an almighty bang. Fire spurted out of the panelling and ripped over the ceiling—and suddenly there was a wall of flame between her and the kids. The fire roared and crackled as it burned up the oxygen in the room; the floor, being wooden, started smouldering. And she couldn’t get through the fire to the kids. It was too hot, too fierce, pushing her back. ‘Mark, the fire’s broken through here. Tell the guv.’ She grabbed the fire extinguisher, but it didn’t even begin to get through the flames. There was a sink but the water pressure wouldn’t be enough to make an impact on the flames. But she could at least grab some cloths, soak them and bundle them round the kids, then haul them through the flames. Please, God, the floor would hold out long enough for her to get them.

It took seconds to find the towels, and seconds more to douse them in cold water.

But the pressure from the fire was too much. She just couldn’t get through the wall of flames.

‘Get down!’ she yelled to the children. ‘Get down and put your nose down through the neck of your T-shirts so you’re breathing in through the material.’ The lower they were, the less likely they’d be to inhale the smoke—the lowest part of the room was always the last to be choked with gases. And breathing through their clothes would at least put a barrier between them and the smoke. Not ideal, but it was the best they could do in the circumstances.

She could hear the children screaming, a high-pitched sound of sheer terror.

Oh, hell, why couldn’t she get through? She took a deep breath. OK. If she made a run for it, she’d get through the flames. She’d be able to bundle the wet cloths over the kids. And hopefully the relief team would put the flames out before the smoke was too much. Deep breath in. After three. One, two—

And someone lifted her off her feet.

‘No! I’ve got to—’

‘Out, Brains.’ She couldn’t see him through the smoke and his mask, but she recognised Mark’s muffled voice. ‘You’re out of oxygen,’ he said.

‘Just give me another tank. I can make it through to the kids.’

He didn’t argue. Just lifted her higher over his shoulder in the classic fireman’s lift, took her down the corridor and pushed her through the smashed window of the classroom they’d just evacuated.

Straight into Matt’s arms.

‘You bloody idiot, Kelsey!’ Matt yelled. ‘You put yourself at risk.’

She shook her head. Her throat felt raw but no way was she staying out here. ‘Give me a tank. I need to go back. They’re trapped. Two kids. I have to—’

‘You have to get medical treatment now,’ Matt cut in, and she realised that he was actually carrying her to his ambulance. Carrying her away from danger. ‘You were out of oxygen. You know damned well when it’s hot you use up more oxygen than normal. That’s why your crew goes through a ton of BA sets when you’re fighting a fire. You’ve inhaled smoke and I bet your throat’s hurting like crazy.’

It was—but she wasn’t going to admit it. ‘I saw them. I nearly had them safe, but the fire broke out,’ she rasped. ‘I was going to get through the flames. Where are they?’

Before Matt could answer, Ray was striding over towards them, swearing a blue streak. ‘What the hell did you think you were doing, Brains?’

‘I nearly had them. And I was in radio contact the whole time.’

‘Yes, but you didn’t do what you were told. You put yourself and other crew members in danger.’

‘Where are the kids? What’s going on?’

‘Stay put and let Matt check you over. That’s an order.’

OK. She’d let Matt check her over, and then she was going back in.

Then she realised that Matt was still cradling her in his arms. As if she were a precious piece of china. ‘You can put me down now,’ she muttered. ‘I can stand on my own two feet.’

He stared at her, looking shocked. Clearly he’d been holding her in his arms without realising what he was doing. In silence, he set her back on her feet and walked with her over to the ambulance.

By the time Matt had checked her over, Mark and the other crew were back out and had been replaced by the relief team. There were four more engines here now. Steam billowed upwards, mingling with the choking black smoke. And still the flames licked through the building. Still they roared. Still the heat blistered the air.

‘Mark, did you get the kids out?’ she asked urgently.

‘No. We couldn’t hear anyone in there either.’

‘Things are always muffled in the middle of a fire. The kids might be too scared to make a sound.’

‘Yeah.’ But his face said he didn’t believe it. That there was another reason why the kids were silent. A much, much worse reason. Especially when the smoke was thick and choking.

Then there was a shout as two firefighters ran towards them, carrying small bodies.

‘We’ve put oxygen on them,’ one of the firefighters said.

It was what he didn’t say that Kelsey heard. The but. A big but. They didn’t hold out much hope. The smoke and the heat might have taken too much of a toll on the small bodies.

Matt and Dale put the children straight in the ambulance; Matt stayed in the back, already checking them over, while Dale slammed the doors and scrambled into the driver’s seat. Siren going, the ambulance left the site.

‘Oh, God. I nearly got them out safely. Nearly,’ Kelsey whispered. ‘They’ve got to be all right.’ Please. They had to be all right.




CHAPTER FOUR (#u6057cd9c-97a6-5d57-b3c0-63876c775043)


FOUR hours later, the fire was out. The building was blackened and charred in places, there was the smell of wet embers everywhere, and a mixture of smoke and steam hung in the air. The job was done—but the crew found no satisfaction in it. Not when two small lives hung in the balance.

Even though Kelsey had a shower and washed her hair when she got back to the fire station, she could still smell the smoke. Taste it. Feel it in her eyes. Feel it in the back of her throat.

She couldn’t stand the waiting any more. She needed to know. She called the hospital and got through to the reception desk in the emergency department. ‘I wondered if you could tell me how Mikey and Lucy are, the two kids brought in from the school fire?’

‘Are you a relative?’ the receptionist asked.

‘No, I’m one of the firefighters.’ The one who hadn’t got them out in time.

‘Sorry. I’m afraid we can’t give out information over the phone.’

Well, it was what she’d expected. ‘Thanks anyway.’ But there was another way she could find out. Someone else who could tell her. She speed-dialled Matt’s mobile number. Please, don’t let him be driving or in the hospital, when his phone would be diverted to his voicemail.

Well, it shouldn’t be. She’d ended up working past the end of her shift. He should be home now—or even if he’d gone out with the crew for a Friday evening post-shift drink, he’d have his mobile on.

She hoped.

To her relief, he answered his mobile within three rings. ‘Matt Fraser.’

‘Hey. It’s me.’

‘Is the fire out, or are you just having a break and change of crews?’

She smiled. Clearly he’d remembered that firefighters were relieved after a four-hour stint and took a break—a wash, change and something to eat and drink, then back at the front again. Well, he should know after eighteen months of sharing a house with her. ‘It’s out.’

‘Good. You on your way home now?’

‘Yeah.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Matt, I called the hospital. They wouldn’t tell me. Do you know how the kids are doing?’

‘Yes.’ There was a long, long pause that told her everything she didn’t want to know. ‘I’m sorry. They didn’t make it.’

She swore. ‘If I’d found them thirty seconds earlier—’

‘It’s not your fault, Kels. It really isn’t.’

So why did it feel that it was?

‘You did your best. So did Dale and I, on our way to the hospital. And the resus team when we got to the emergency department. But it wasn’t anybody’s fault. Who could have guessed that the boiler was going to go up like that? Or that the fire would spread that fast? Or that the kids had slipped out from the after-school club into another room and would hide in a cupboard when the fire alarm went off?’

‘Mmm.’ She didn’t trust herself to speak. Her eyes felt sore and gritty, and not just from exposure to smoke and heat.

‘Kels.’ His voice was soft, understanding. Like a hug down the phone line. Warm and strong and comforting. And how she wished he was right in front of her, holding her close. ‘Don’t beat yourself up. You’ve had four hours of hard work, carrying nearly thirty pounds of kit on your back. You must be shattered. And it was a nightmare job. It’s the first time you’ve been to a fire at a school, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah.’

He pressed on. ‘The first time you’ve not been able to save a child.’

She dragged in a breath. ‘Yeah,’ she whispered. She’d been to a couple of big blazes where they’d lost people, but she’d never been to a fire where they’d lost a child. Two children. One of whom she actually knew, from her fire prevention work at the school. She’d never have believed it would hurt so much. Or that it would affect her like this. She was a trained professional. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

‘It’s your first one, of course you’ll be feeling emotional. Anyone would, in your shoes. I remember the first time I couldn’t save a kid in a car crash and it hit me pretty hard. Look, I’m at home. I’ll come and pick you up.’

‘No. I’m fine,’ she mumbled. ‘Be home soon.’ Though when she ended the call, she let the phone drop on the table, propped her elbows on the wood and rested her forehead on her clenched fists. She should have been able to save those kids. She’d failed in her job. She’d been saved from a mangled car in her hour of need—but she’d failed to do the same for Mikey and Lucy. She hadn’t paid her debt. She’d failed them, just like she’d failed Danny.




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