12

 

The next week passed quickly. Niamh easily slipped back into the routine of working. It really wasn’t that different from what she remembered, and her initial qualms faded as bits and pieces of her job came back to her. Her previous case notes still puzzled her at their abruptness and outright meanness. For a Christian, she sure hadn’t been acting like one. She spent time each day praying over the files, asking for forgiveness for her attitude. At least she hadn’t wrongly prosecuted anyone. She had gone through every case she’d prosecuted to check.

Every evening, when Jared wasn’t on nights, she spent with him. He’d come over and they’d watch TV or just sit and chat about their respective days. But they’d finish every evening in Bible study and prayer. Something he said had been missing for a while—even before Dayna died. They’d spoken of her several times. Jared had shared lots of memories with her and even borrowed all the photos of her he could in order to get copies made of them.

They’d chosen one of the three of them sitting under the Christmas tree, taken two days before Dayna died and had it enlarged. It now hung in pride of place on the wall in the lounge. Something they both decided was a good thing.

The contents of Niamh’s wardrobe had been as big a shock as her journals. Full of more suits and shoes than she would ever really need and not cheap ones either. She looked at them critically and finally decided on just one suit for work. Everything else she folded and placed in five black sacks. That left her with two skirts, two pairs of jeans, the tracksuit trousers that fitted over the cast and a week’s worth of shirts, nightwear and lingerie. More than enough.

Next she tackled the shoes. She kept a pair for work, a pair for best, sneakers, and sandals. The rest went in the bags.

When the driver arrived to pick her up for work, she smiled. “Hi, I have a favor to ask.”

“Sure, Mrs. Harkin.”

“I’ve got some stuff bagged up to go to the charity shop. Could we drop it off on the way? The bags are on the landing if you don’t mind bringing them downstairs for me.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you. I’ll let Mr. Reynolds know I’ll be in a little later.”

It took him several trips to load the car, but he did it without complaint. “Which charity shop did you want to go to?”

Niamh looked blankly at him. “There’s more than one?”

He smiled. “There are five in the precinct.”

“OK. Umm, pick one. I don’t have a preference.”

“Sure.”

Once they got there, Niamh wandered around while the driver unloaded all the bags. She found a couple of skirts she immediately fell in love with and an ornament consisting of three owls. Two were the right way up, the third hanging upside down with ‘It’s one of those days’ written along the bottom of it. She paid for them and headed into work.

 

****

 

Exhausted after her first afternoon back in court, Niamh locked up and went to bed early, Jared’s voice still ringing in her ear. She’d spent an hour on the phone to him just talking about everything and nothing.

She fell asleep quickly only to jerk awake what seemed like only moments later. What had woken her?

Something had fallen. A soft but noticeable thud on the carpet, but was it in her dream or…?

No. There was harsh breathing, a footfall. Another thud and muffled curse.

Someone was in the room. A dim penlight clicked on beside her.

Her heart pounded and she reached over and flicked on the light.

A tall man, dressed in black with balaclava over his face stood next to the bed, her Filofax in his hand.

Niamh screamed as loud as she could, reaching for her phone. She caught a blur moving swiftly in the corner of her eyes, before something connected hard with the side of her head. Pain rocketed through her.

She struggled to focus on the figure beside her. Another blur as he raised his arm again.

His hand connected with her face, the blow making her see double before everything went dark.

When she opened her blurry eyes, the room was empty and she was lying face down on the floor. For a moment, she thought she’d imagined it, but the pain in her head assured her she hadn’t. She reached up blindly for the phone, hoping it was where she’d left it. It was. She dialed Liam’s number.

After three rings, Jared’s voice echoed down the line. “Hello, Liam’s phone.”

Jared? What… She had no idea why he was answering Liam’s phone, but she needed him. “Jared, help…”

Concern filled his voice. “Niamh, what’s wrong?”

“Please, help me…” Something dripped into her eyes and she wiped warm liquid away. Her hand was red. Was that blood?

She dropped the phone, and digging her fingers into the carpet, crawled to the bathroom, her plastered leg dragging behind her. She reached up and grabbed a towel off the rack. The tiny room spun in a haze of black and white as dizziness flooded her. She curled up on the floor, her head on the towel.

Just rest a few moments, until the pain goes away…

 

****

 

Jared fumbled his key in his haste to get into the house. As he put it in the lock, the door gave and opened. He hadn’t even unlocked it. Was someone in the house with her? Exchanging a frantic glance with Liam he rattled off, “Call the police,” before he ran inside. “Niamh!”

On alert, he searched for her, calling her name. Hearing a faint moan, he hurtled up the stairs. “Niamh?”

She lay slumped on the landing half out of the bathroom. Dropping to his knees, he felt for a pulse in the limp slender wrist. He cradled her cool body. “Niamh?”

Her eyes flickered then tried to focus on him. “Jared? You’re here?”

“I’m here.” He took in the blood. “Liam, she’s hurt,” he yelled. He pulled a tissue from his pocket and clamped it over the small wound.

Footsteps pounded up the stairs, Liam appeared. He took things in at a glance and stepped over them. The water ran for a moment then Liam handed him a damp towel. “Here. The police are on their way. I’ll call an ambulance, too.”

Jared looked up. “Maybe run across the road and see if Nate’s in.” Detective Sergeant Nate Holmes, church elder, friend, lived opposite them. “He’ll know what to do.”

Liam nodded and left the room, already speaking on the phone.

Jared looked back down at the pale, beautiful face. He should never have moved out and left her alone. “Niamh?”

Her eyes slowly opened and struggled to focus on him. “There was a man. He hit me.”

“It’s OK, you’re safe now.” He cradled her and carried her down the stairs.

“I can walk,” she protested weakly. “Well if I had the crutches, maybe…”

“Not this time.” He kissed the top of her head. Her voice was a little stronger now and the fact she was complaining was a good sign.

As he reached the hall, Liam and Nate ran in. “I haven’t touched anything,” he said. “I found her lying bleeding on the floor upstairs.”

“I’m fine, just a little shaken is all.” Niamh pushed against his chest. “It’s just a slight cut.”

“Don’t argue. You’re going to hospital to get checked out, because you were out cold for a few minutes.” He laid her on the couch. “Besides, Nate will only insist on a med report to back up his police report. The guy hit you, Niamh, that’s assault.”

Nate sat on the chair next to her. “Hi, Niamh. I’m DS Holmes. You know me as Nate.”

She smiled faintly as Jared gently examined the wound on her head. “You live over the road. I’ve seen you with your daughter in church.”

“She’s my niece, but yeah. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I woke and found this man standing by the bed. He had my Filofax in his hand. I screamed, and he hit me twice. When I came too, I rang Liam. Jared answered. Then he was here.”

“OK. Sit tight for a few. Can I borrow Jared to see if anything was taken?”

Niamh nodded, then raised a hand to her head. “That was silly…”

Jared glanced up, torn between wanting to help and not wanting to leave his wife. “I—”

Liam plumped down next to her. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t move. Go and help Nate as much as you can.”

He pushed to his feet. “OK.” Blue lights flashed outside the window. As he got to the door, two uniformed officers stood on the porch. “That was fast.”

“We can be,” Nate said dryly. He looked at one of the officers. “Ben, I want you to take Mrs. Harkin’s statement. Philip, you’re with me. Jared, where did you find her?”

“Collapsed on the floor half out of the bathroom. The trail of blood looks like it goes to the bedroom.” He gratefully let Nate take charge and then led Nate and one of the officers up the stairs.

“I’m not sure what help I’ll be.” He glanced at Nate. “We’ve essentially been separated a while now and the past couple of weeks I’ve been staying at Liam’s to help him redecorate.” He caught the glint in Nate’s eye. “I know, that makes me suspect number one, but I was with Liam all evening. Patrick also came over to help wallpaper the hall. He brought pizza with him.”

They went into Niamh’s room and Jared paused as he realized what a mess it was. “Besides, someone wants her dead, and that definitely isn’t me.”

In the mirror he caught the exchange of glances between Nate and the uniformed officer. Nate frowned. “I’m sorry? That sounded like someone wants her dead.”

“She’s been getting death threats at work. SOCO were investigating the car crash, but we haven’t heard anything back.”

“Check that out, will you?” Nate ordered.

The uniformed officer raised his radio, speaking rapidly into it.

Jared pushed a hand through his hair. “You didn’t know?”

“No,” Nate said. “Your address should have been flagged. Once we’re done here, I need to talk to you both about the threats.”

“I’ll tell you what I can, but Niamh doesn’t remember anything from before the car crash. That’s partly why I’m not living here—though I’ll tell you for nothing, that’s changing from tonight.”

 

****

 

Niamh glanced at Jared as he drove her into work. He’d done a lot of insisting since they got home from the hospital in the early hours of the morning. He’d insisted on sleeping in the spare room, and tried to insist she take the day off work. When she’d been adamant on going in, he’d insisted on driving her himself and cancelling her car.

Now he had a contemplative look on his face that probably meant he was going to insist on something else. Despite that, it was kind of cute.

“You look serious, Jared. What are you thinking?”

“I don’t want you working.”

“The doctor said it was a mild concussion. He didn’t say not to work. I’m not letting some goon scare me off. Something is going on, and I think it has something to do with work.”

“You think?”

She twisted in her seat. “Jared, I wish that blow to my head had brought my memories back, but it didn’t. But one thing I do know for sure.”

“What’s that?”

“I feel a lot safer having you around.”

“Safer?” His voice had an edge to it.

“Not just safer.” She backtracked a little. “I like having you around. I like spending time with you. I—”

He parked the car and turned his intent gaze on her. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks and her heart pounded.

Is this what falling in love means? That giddy head over heels, wow he’s looking at me feeling I have right now? The intense bereft feeling when he is no longer by my side? Why did I let things between us get so bad? Will he ever take me back?

“I should go so you can get into work on time,” he said slowly. “I’ll come by the house later, if that’s OK?”

“Of course it is.” She reached for the crutches, ignoring the twinge in her heart and just going with the change of subject. “Should get rid of these tomorrow, or replace them with a cane or something. Assuming the cast comes off.”

“Can you get someone to drive you back home?”

“Yeah, the usual guy will bring me home. Will you be in later? I could cook.”

“I’d like that. Should be back around seven.”

“Sounds good.”

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Bye.”

“Bye.” She smiled and got out of the car.

Niamh made her way inside and went straight up to Alan’s office. She knocked and opened the door. “Are you busy? I need to talk to you.”

Alan put the phone down. “Good morning, Niamh, Likewise. Sit down. You first.”

She eased into the chair. “The house was broken into last night. I got hit over the head, spent a couple of hours in the ED.”

“I heard. That was DS Holmes on the phone. You shouldn’t be here.”

“That’s what Jarrie said. But like I told him, I’m not being scared off here. There’s something going on, and I’m not going to sit idly by and let it happen. God will keep me safe.”

“You can take that too far. What if God decides now’s the time for you to join Him in heaven? He didn’t stop you being hit over the head last night.”

Niamh bristled. “Maybe so, but the bloke who broke in didn’t do anything other than hit me. Besides, if He wants me, I could die in my sleep at home. Or He could have let me die in that car crash.”

A wry smile crossed Alan’s face. “Good point. OK. SOCO finally got back to me. It seems a certain DS Holmes got someone up in the middle of the night to chase up your case.”

“He said he would. And?”

“I didn’t like what I heard. Nor did he and neither will you. It confirms what the CCTV images showed. Someone tampered with your car and cut the brakes about fifteen minutes before you got into your car and left. Had I not caught you in the lift and delayed you, it’s likely you’d have caught them doing it.”

“I thought the only people with access to the car park were people who worked for the CPS. Everyone else has to use the public parking facility at the front of the building.”

“It is. Hence this case is now in the hands of the police.”

Niamh folded her arms. Why hadn’t the CCTV images come up before this? Or had they just not told her about them? Either way she wasn’t going to push it, so long as they were being taken into consideration now. “Fair enough. What I don’t understand is why, if the Acre case was over, did someone decide to cut my brakes? Surely it’d make more sense to do it before I got him locked up?”

“You were pursuing another line of enquiry. Files were going missing, and you were making progress on finding out who was taking them. Have you remembered anything about that?”

Her brown creased in thought. “I don’t think so, no. So, what happens now? I assume I’m back in the firing line.”

“The police will arrange for an officer to either stay in your place or outside it. A car will continue to drive you to and from here and to the court.”

“OK, but the police stay outside. Jarrie stayed in the spare room last night, and I’m going to get him to move back in. It’s his home, too.”

Alan smiled over the file.

“What?”

“You called him Jarrie. That’s the second time since you walked in here.”

“And? It’s his name isn’t it?”

“You’re the only person to ever call him that. You came up with the name shortly after you got married.”

Her heart leapt. “Really? I…no one told me that.”

Alan’s smile grew. “Yeah. You see there is hope for the rest of your memories yet.”

“Yeah.” Niamh took a deep breath. “Anyway, back to these threats.”

“You also received another death threat this morning. It came to the office, addressed to me.” He handed over the letter. “This is a copy. The police have the original.”

You should have let things be, Mrs. Harkin. You leave this case alone or you will die. Last night was a warning. We know where you live, where you work. We’re watching you.

She read it and shivered. She had no idea why someone would want her dead. Thick slanting handwriting, probably a calligraphy pen she decided. Possibly a left hander from the way the letters were smudged, but that wasn’t any help.

She gave it back to Alan. “Friendly person, isn’t he? What kind of paper was it written on?”

“The same paper as all the others. From one of the yellow lined legal pads we use all the time.”

“But why?” Her brow furrowed. “What did I ever do that was so wrong? Is it really this case or did I send his mother down for speeding and he’s just out for revenge and he’s using this case as a convenient excuse.”

“We have no idea. They started with the Acre case—the one you won the day of the car crash. Obviously whoever is sending them, knows you’re back at work and is afraid you’ll catch them.”

“Who knows about the letters?”

“I do and Toby does. And now the police.” He held out a file. “This murder case came in late last night. Toby and I want you to take it. He’s going to work with you, but you’ll take the lead.”

Niamh took the file. “Is that a good idea?”

“I thought you just said you weren’t bothered by the death threats.”

“I’m not. I was thinking more along the lines of what you said about not trusting someone who can’t remember last month.”

“That was five weeks ago,” he winked. “Seriously, I trust you. You’re the best person for this one. But Gina Luckett was found dead the day after your car crash. She’d been hung, drawn and quartered.”

She shuddered. That was the traditional death reserved for criminals who committed treason against the crown, with parts of the body being sent as a warning to each of the four corners of the kingdom. But no one had died that way for over a hundred years. At least legally. “That’s a nasty way to die. Who is she?”

“She was the main witness in your last case. As soon as you produced her in court, the defendant, Jonathan Acre, changed his plea. You put away a mobster for life, with no chance of parole for forty years. Miles Kingsman was the defense barrister on that case, and he’s been assigned this case, too. This time the accused is Barry Jankowski. We have CCTV footage that places him outside Gina Luckett’s house, DNA evidence that places him near the body at the time or just after she died.”

“Are Acre and Jankowski connected?”

“So far the only link anyone can find is the same defense barrister. But something doesn’t sit right with either Toby or me. This is another reason we want you to handle it. You have a nose for this sort of thing. If something smells, you track it down like a bloodhound.”

She shot him a slight smile.

“Something else you should know. I had a phone call from Judge Matheson yesterday. He heard Kingsman threaten you in court after the case finished. Someone then tried to kill you. He can’t be sure the two are connected, but we’re not taking any chances.”

The intercom buzzed. “Yes, Mary?”

“Miles Kingsman is on line three for Mrs. Harkin.”

“Put it through. You take it on speaker phone,” he said.

Niamh nodded and waited until the call came through. “Hi, Miles.”

“Niamh, I hear they’ve given you the Jankowski case. Fancy meeting for lunch to discuss it?”

Alan shook his head.

“I’m busy for lunch.”

“Then tomorrow?”

“Thing is, I probably shouldn’t see you socially right now. Not if I’m your opposition on this case.”

“It never stopped you in the past.”

“I’m not the same person as I was then.” ‘Coffee?’ she mouthed. As Alan nodded, she spoke aloud. “I could make coffee the day after tomorrow. Give me time to read the files and so on.”

“Sure. Usual place?”

“Ummm, how about…” She read the piece of paper Alan slid across the desk. “…my office, say about eleven?”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then.”

“Sure. Bye.” Niamh hung up and looked at Alan. “And the fact my office will probably have moved to an interview room with a one way mirror, or the office across the hall with the glass walls, is beside the point?”

Alan laughed. “You read my mind, lassie. Read my mind.” He paused, his face hardening. “And if you do remember anything about those files, anything, no matter how small a detail it may seem, I need to know immediately. Or tell Toby and he’ll let me know.”

 

****

 

Back in her office, Niamh pulled out her mobile and rang Jared at work. Surprised he answered the phone, she wasn’t going to question why he was at the reception desk. “Hi, Jared. I’ve got a favor to ask.”

“For you, anything.”

She put the file on her desk and lowered herself into the chair. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to move back in permanently. In separate rooms, of course.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, hon.” His smile echoed down the phone.

“Hon?” She pulled a face at the phone. “I thought I said don’t call me that. For now at least.”

“Sorry.”

She yanked open the drawer, pulling out a yellow legal pad and her pencil. “It’s fine, Jarrie, just don’t make a habit of it.”

“I’m not a priest. No wait, they don’t wear habits. Nun’s do.”

She laughed. “You’re silly.”

“Thanks. Uh, did you call me Jarrie?”

“Yes. That is your name, right?” She opened the file and angled the paper on the desk to write on.

“Yeah it is. I love you.”

“I’m glad you do. Now go do some work. I’ll see you tonight. Bye.”

He laughed. “Bye.”

 

****

 

After dinner that night, Niamh knew without a doubt she had started to fall in love with Jared and that scared her more than she wanted to admit. It terrified her because she didn’t remember how she’d behaved with him before. What if she was too changed for him now? Or did things differently? What if he didn’t like the new her? Either way, she had to know.

She took a deep breath as he closed his Bible and looked up. “Jarrie, what if I’ve changed too much?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not the same person as I was before the car crash. I’ve read my diaries and so on. I don’t like who I was, and I don’t want to be her anymore. What if you don’t like the new me?”

“I like the new you just fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He wrapped his arm around her and she leaned against his chest, listening to his heart beating. “I like the way we talk now, listen to each other, read and pray and just be with each other without the nastiness and sniping. It’s like when we first met.”

“And that’s a good thing?” she asked.

“It’s a very good thing.”

 

****

 

Seven hours later she woke suddenly to find Jared standing over the bed. “Jarrie, what time is it?”

“Early. Are you awake?”

“I am now. What’s up?”

He picked her up and carried her from the room. “Something to show you.”

“Fair enough.” She snuggled into him, listening to his heart beating.

They reached the hall. “Grab your coat.”

Confused she did so, and then shivered as Jared carried her from the house. “You’re one crazy man. Did you know that?”

“Course I am. That’s why you love me.”

“Hmmm that’s kind of presumptuous don’t you think, Mr. Harkin?” She tightened her grip on him. “I said I like you, didn’t say anything about loving you. And after this? I mean you come in at the crack of dawn, wake me up, grab me from my bed…” she broke off trying not to smile.

“I didn’t hear you complaining at the time.” He carried her across the patio and sat down on one of the chairs, holding her firmly on his lap. “This will be worth it I promise.”

She shivered again, leaning into him. “It had better be.”

Jared wrapped her coat around her. “Or what?”

“Or you make your own dinner tonight.”

“Sounds like a pretty safe bet to me.”

Slowly the light of the sun peeped over the horizon. Jared nodded to the rose bush next to him. “Look.”

She turned her head. The dew caught the light of the rising sun, giving the plain white roses an almost jeweled appearance. “Wow. That is so pretty.”

“Isn’t it? You used to love coming out here, just sitting watching them.”

“I can see why.”

“And just like the sun rises every morning, no matter what, so my love for you never ends, no matter what.”

The sequined winter roses sparkled. She reached out a hand but was unable to touch it. Just like her memories, fragmented and shining with promise but unreachable. But perhaps one day they would come back. Until then she had the roses and the dew and the promises each new day would bring. Most importantly, she had the love of the man holding her.

“What are you thinking?”

“Aside from how pretty it is? Thinking that the dew on the roses is a lot like my memories. There, sparkling like treasure, but I can’t reach them.”

“Maybe look at it as if that’s a good thing—it gives us a fresh start with no hang-ups from the past.”

“But some things I’d like to remember. Dayna’s first word, silly things she’d say or do. Anything about her basically. Remembering why someone’s trying to kill me would also be good. And other important things from the past ten years.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Ummm, you perhaps. Know what you like, don’t like. What turns you on, where you’re ticklish…”

He kissed her cheek. “You can relearn that very easily, my love, when you’re ready. Just know I still love you. Did you find someone to take you to the clinic this morning?”

“Patrick’s doing it. I’m hoping the doc’ll say I can lose the cast today. He should do.”

Jared ran a finger slowly down her face, a trail of fire following it. “That would be great. So there should be less of you when I get home tonight?”

“Are you implying I need to go on a diet?” she asked in mock shock.

“Nope. Well, just your left leg, that’s all.”

His finger brushed over her lips, and she held his gaze. His head inched towards hers, and she eagerly raised hers to meet it. The kiss was long, slow and tender, his hands moving through her hair.

Finally, he broke off. “I should go.”

“Yes, you should.” She paused. “You say that an awful lot. If this were a book, the editor would have her red pen all over it.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps we could continue this conversation tonight. Don’t worry, I’m not asking more than you’re prepared to give.”

She smiled. “OK. We’ll continue later.”

After he left, Niamh ate a leisurely breakfast and read the morning paper. Then she puttered around the house for a while, dusting and rearranging the ornaments on the sideboard. She could still feel his lips on hers, and her body resonated with his touches.

She glanced at the clock. Just before ten. Patrick should be here any min—

Boom!

The entire house rocked. A deafening explosion thundered. Niamh hung onto the sideboard, trying to keep her balance.

What was that? Where was it? Had someone targeted the office or court expecting her to be there today?

She glanced out of the window. A huge fireball billowed in the air, followed by a mushroom cloud. Thick black smoke expanded outwards. Not the direction of the court or the office. Or the fire station.

A swift chill settled over her and she shuddered. Lord, keep Jared and the rest of the firefighters who respond to this major incident, safe out there today. Protect them, give them the courage to do their jobs.

 

****

 

Jared gazed out of the window of the fire engine at the massive conflagration in front of him. The phone call—petrol tanker hits petrol station—hadn’t done it justice. The fire encompassed not just the petrol station, but the resulting explosion had taken out five of the surrounding houses and commercial properties. So far it covered half the block. Pumps twenty, persons reported. It was going to be a long, hard day.

Flames hissed and crackled. Over one hundred firefighters from the twenty pump and ladder vehicles that had responded, plus an aerial platform ran large volume hoses from the edge of the cordon that had been set up. A few firefighters advanced on the flames, behind hoses, towards the buildings.

Lord, help us get control of this fire quickly. Keep us safe and if there is anyone trapped, let us reach them. Or if it’s Your will to take them, do so swiftly.

He leapt down, the heat hitting him full on. He strapped on his breathing apparatus as Brad barked instructions. ‘Persons reported’ was never a good thing in a fire. But with the speed this one was spreading, it wasn’t surprising that people were trapped inside the buildings. He handed his tally in at the BA board.

“Bravo two, with Skippy.”

Jared nodded.

A hysterical woman grabbed him and pointed to a house on the edge of the cordon. Flames were shooting high into the sky from the roof and one of the upper windows. “My babies are in there. Upstairs in the front room.”

“We’ll get them out.” He turned to Skippy. “Get the ladder positioned by that window. And get some water cover on it.”

“You can’t go in there.”

“Watch me.”

Half way to the house, an explosion behind him rocked the area. The blast wave sent him flying to the ground.

Pushing upright, he ran over to one of the houses spurting flames.

As soon as the ladder was in position, Jared ran up it, pole in his hand. Flames leapt from the building, the intense heat making him sweat under his layers of fireproof clothing. Making sure his mask was secure, he inserted the pole through the window, checking the floor. He really didn’t want to climb through if the floor had gone. Assuring himself it was there, he climbed over the window sill and into the room.

The entire room was blazing. “Anyone here?”

Whimpering came from his right. One hand in front of him, he edged over to the sound. “Hello? Where are you?”

The whimpering came from under the bed. Kneeling down, he raised the burning cover. A small face, grimy, streaked with tears peered out at him. “Hey, little one. Let’s get you out of here.”

“Mummy….”

“Yeah, we’ll go and find mummy.” He gently pulled her out and wrapped protective arms around her. Five steps took him to the window, and he passed her through to the waiting firefighter on the other side.

“Guv wants you out.”

“No. There’s still another child in here. Going to check the crib.”

“Jared…”

He turned and headed back into the inferno. The floor shifted beneath his feet. Moving as fast as he could, he reached the crib and grabbed the baby. “I got you.”

He returned to the window and handed the baby out.

“Got him. Now get out of there.”

Not needing to be told again, Jared grasped the window sill. At that instant, the floor beneath him vanished. He tightened his grip, his legs dangling in the hole opening under his feet. Glancing up he could see Skippy backing down the ladder carrying the baby.

His hand slipped.

“Niamh.”

He fell into the raging inferno below him.