It should have been the happiest time of her life. But it had turned into the worst.
Marina Esposito opened her eyes slowly. Shock flooded her system. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She gradually pushed herself up on to her elbows, trying to blink away the images before her. Failing.
It was as if she had gone to sleep and woken up in some hellish post-apocalyptic landscape. The cottage, the garden behind it, the stretch of Suffolk coastline before it, had all gone. The comforting, safe rural environment replaced by ruins, flames.
She tried to pull herself into a sitting position, willed her mind to catch up with her body’s movements, but felt nothing but blankness in her head. It was too much to process, like she had just woken up and dragged a nightmare with her into the day. But she felt the heat on her face, her skin, the dust in her eyes. The gravel of the pathway she was lying on painfully imprinted on her hands and arms, her face. And she knew, subconsciously, that it must be real.
She blinked again, trying to corral her mind into some kind of rational order, to remember what had happened, why she was there.
The cottage where they had all been staying. The …
She looked at the blazing ruin before her and realised that that was the cottage.
‘Oh God … ’
She dragged herself slowly to her feet, ignoring the painful gravel rash, the grazed skin, her head spinning. Adrenalin began to pump round her system. She felt her heart speeding up, tripping along faster than her chest could contain it. She stood on unsteady legs, swaying, looking at the burning cottage before her. Slowly, as though her legs were made from concrete, she made her way towards it, crunching on gravel and shingle, breathing heavily through her mouth, her mind racing to catch up with her body.
A few days away before returning to work. That was all it had been. After the wedding and the honeymoon. Just herself, Phil and his parents.
And their three-year-old daughter.
‘No … oh no, oh fuck, no … ’
She looked again at the burning ruin before her, walked quicker.
Spending Easter in Suffolk. Aldeburgh, on the coast. Snape Maltings music festival nearby, a large stretch of beach, pubs and restaurants. A way of saying thank you to Don and Eileen for looking after Josephina.
And now this.
Marina was almost running in her haste to get there. She looked at the cottage, tried to make out shapes, called for her family.
‘Phil … Phil … oh God … Eileen, Don … ’
Nothing. Her only reply the sound of the flames, intensifying as she got nearer.
Her heart was ready to break through her ribcage.
There was a blazing car in front of the cottage. Marina didn’t recognise it. Not theirs. Not Don and Eileen’s. She dismissed it from her mind, kept going, moving towards the cottage. She hadn’t realised how far away she had been.
Part of her mind was asking the question: why was she not in the cottage? Why wasn’t she with the rest of them? Another part of her mind dismissed it. More important things to do. More important questions to answer.
She heard voices behind her, becoming louder. She ignored them. Heard footsteps running towards her. Ignored them too. Staying focused on the cottage. Moving towards it. Her world narrowed down to that burning ruin. To saving her family.
She had almost reached the car when she was grabbed from behind.
‘Get away from there! You mental?’
She shook the hands off her, kept going. They grabbed her again.
‘It’s not safe, you’ll be killed. Come on … ’
The hands pulled her back, stopped her from moving forward, separating her from her family.
She tried to shake them off again, but they gripped harder.
‘Please, stay back … see sense … ’
Desperation and adrenalin gave her strength. She turned, saw a man about her own age, concern and fear in his eyes, his hands grappling with her shoulders. She shook him off, broke free from his grasp.
As she reached the car, she felt the heat on her face and body. It was so bright it forced her eyes to close, so powerful it knocked her back like a physical presence. She squinted through the flames. Tried to make out anyone else. Reality rippled through the heat haze.
She heard the man’s voice behind her once more.
‘Get back! The car’s going to … ’
She felt hands on her body, the sensation of being pushed roughly to the ground. Then a sudden burst of searing heat, like she was being devoured by a miniature sun, accompanied by a sound so loud it must have shattered her eardrums.
Then nothing.
Just blackness.