The next week was a complete blur for Jess. Karl, Phoebe and Glen helped with the formalities that follow a death and set about arranging the funeral. Hope’s large sprawling house, a pay-off from one of her three marriages, was in the same village that Jess lived. She had gamely turned it into a base to save them all staying in a hotel. Emma had brought a case of Laura’s old clothes for Freya and, as they were the same size, another case of her clothes for Jess. Jess’s dad and Maria had come to visit. They were both devastated, saying more than once that they wished it had been one of them, as Sam still had so much life to live. Charlie, who too was completely inconsolable, had also stayed over for a couple of days to assist.
The day before the funeral Jess said she felt strong enough to go and visit the house. As Karl drove tentatively into the drive Jess began to sob. Her beautiful home was now a charcoaled wreck. Blackened roof struts pointed to the sky and the acrid smell of smoke still seemed to linger in the air. Police tape banded the whole of the outside, so Jess could not even have gone into take a look inside if she wanted to.
She walked around the back of the house and was strangely comforted to see that Sam’s precious study and the kitchen had been barely touched by the fire. As she walked back around the front of the house, a police car pulled into the drive. Karl made the officer in the passenger seat aware who they were. Then quickly, whilst Jess was out of earshot said, ‘She doesn’t know there’s an investigation going on, mate, so be gentle with her.’
The policeman nodded knowingly. ‘We do have to speak to her though, sir. Mrs. Beresford is obviously key to our enquiries. We will contact her straight after the funeral.’
‘Madam.’ The driver of the car addressed Jess. ‘We are so sorry to hear of your sad loss.’
Jess smiled weakly. ‘Thank you.’
As the police car pulled out of the drive Jess began to cry again. Karl held her. The realisation of what had happened hit her, and through rattled sobs she tried to unravel the events of that night. ‘Oh, Karl, I’ve just remembered something so, so terrible.’
‘What, darling? Whatever it is, it’s OK.’
‘It’s so not OK, Karl, I remember taking the battery out of the smoke alarm for one of Freya’s toys about a month ago and forgot to replace it.’
Karl held her tightly.
‘It’s all my fault,’ she wailed. ‘If I hadn’t been so stupid, we would have awoken earlier, the house would have been saved and Sam probably wouldn’t have died.’
She became hysterical and dropped to her knees on the gravel, holding her head in her hands. ‘It’s all my fault, it’s all my fault.’
Karl gently lifted her up and held her close. He couldn’t bear to see his dear sister in such a mess. He had to release her guilt. ‘Jess, darling Jess, it wasn’t your fault. The fire brigade had to call in the Fire Investigation Team. They think the fire was caused deliberately.’
Jess suddenly stopped crying. ‘What do you mean? Arson? Why? Who would do such a thing?’
‘They’ve reason to believe that something containing petrol was pushed burning through the letterbox,’ Karl advised. ‘Even if the smoke alarm had gone off, the blaze would have taken hold so quickly it probably wouldn’t have made that much difference.’
‘God, this gets worse, Karl, I really do feel like I’m living a nightmare. Who on earth would want to harm any of us?’
‘I really don’t know, Jess. Now, come on, let’s get back to Hope’s. There’s nothing we can do here at the moment.’
As Jess walked to the car she kicked something with her foot. She looked down, it was the pretty wooden Fern Cottage sign, that she had had made especially for Sam the week they moved into the house. It was only slightly burnt on the corner. She picked it up and held it to her chest. ‘Oh, Karl, I am going to miss him so much.’