If I had been asked to describe Sedgefield when I moved to the town several years ago, I might have waxed lyrical about its Roman heritage and historic cotton mills, the beauty of the surrounding Cheshire countryside, and the tranquillity of the canals that had once been the town’s life blood. Without doubt, I would have extolled the virtues of its cosy pubs and trendy eateries, but I would never have mentioned the Empress Theatre. I gave no thought to the abandoned art deco building that lurked behind the modern façade of a typical English high street. I didn’t know it was there. The whole country knows where it is now.
The Empress Theatre was a hidden gem and might have stayed that way if a pair of beady eyes hadn’t noticed its glittering potential. It reopened its doors amongst much pomp and ceremony a year ago, and the restoration was heralded as a cultural turning point for the town. Sadly, the real turning point came four short weeks later, when Sedgefield suffered its greatest tragedy.
As we prepare for that painful anniversary, it’s time to look back and ask how we got to this point. Was it a freak accident, or was it an inevitable consequence of snobbery and greed? Do we blame the fire for taking the lives of our loved ones, or should we turn our attention to those who saw more value in bricks and mortar than the safety of our townspeople? Is it time to name names?
Prior to the theatre’s restoration, Sedgefield’s main thoroughfare was a mix of historic architecture overlaid with new-age branding, but unlike many high streets in this day and age, ours thrived. Unfortunately, this wasn’t good enough for the upper echelons of our society. They found the discount stores and betting shops a juxtaposition to the artisan bakeries, boutiques and bistros. A Greggs’ sausage roll might fill the gap if you’re on a tight budget, but God forbid the smell of flaky pastry should overpower the delicate aroma of bruised basil and hand-picked coffee beans. Something had to give, and it was no surprise that middle-aged socialite Phillipa Montgomery would be the one to grasp an opportunity.
When Phillipa tabled her proposal to restore the Empress Theatre, she claimed it would make the town a magnet for investment. Reading between the lines, she meant it would increase the headcount of millionaires and local celebrities to rival that of Alderley Edge, and the best the rest of us could hope for was that they would be good tippers.
And Phillipa didn’t just want a fancy theatre, she wanted it now. Impatience and a budget that prioritised style over substance evidently led to shortcuts, and those shortcuts would prove fatal. The exclusive function rooms on the first floor hadn’t been completed in time for the reopening and, tellingly, the project hadn’t been signed off at the time of the fire. But still, the show must go on.
On the face of it, the grand opening was a blistering success, although very few of Sedgefield’s townspeople could attest to this fact, given that the celebrity-packed variety show had been priced beyond their means. Phillipa responded to accusations of elitism by inviting the local dance school to put on a mid-week run, and all three nights of Hilary Clarke’s adaptation of Alice in Wonderland had sold out in days.
When the show had opened on the evening of 21st October, the house had been packed, and it should have been cheers that filled the rafters instead of smoke. I’m certain that the performers would have received a standing ovation, but the curtain had come down after only half an hour, and it was the show’s originator who took her final bow. Hilary was counted amongst the twelve fatalities that night, although arguably there were only eleven victims.
The body of Declan Gallagher, employed by Ronson Construction as site supervisor for the restoration, was found amongst the smouldering rubble close to his seriously injured sister, who would remain in hospital for weeks. A tragedy for the family perhaps, but also a conundrum. What was Declan doing there?
Evidential hearings took place within months of the fire, but this fact-gathering exercise is yet to produce any answers. We are told we have to wait for the investigators to complete the public inquiry and issue their findings, but we can make our own deductions. The likely cause of the fire was an electrical fault, and it isn’t much of a leap to assume that Declan will bear some responsibility for what happened. He was an electrician by trade after all.
His murderous role has to remain under the spotlight if justice is to be served. It’s understood that he had given his sister two tickets for the Empress’s last ever show, and she had gone with a friend. There was no reason for Declan to be inside the theatre that night and, so far, his sister is refusing to explain his presence.
What we do know is that the first police officer was on the scene within six minutes, and the ambulance service arrived a minute later, but these first responders weren’t cleared to enter the building until the fire service deemed it safe. When two fire crews arrived eleven minutes after the fire alarm had sounded, they were significantly under-equipped to tackle the inferno that would require twenty appliances and most of the night to bring under control. Not one of those appliances came from Sedgefield’s fire station, which had been sold to a property developer the year before. The closure was part of a wider rationalisation of the service that, according to the hype, would not compromise the safety of residents.
So where did it all go wrong? Should we blame the brave fire crews, or does the fault lie with the councillors who were forced to cut budgets? Should our government be held to account for cutting public funding, or does the blame lie closer to home? Did Declan Gallagher choose to cut corners in order to deliver the project to Phillipa Montgomery’s demanding schedule? Or was it his incompetence that cost the town eleven lives? Did he know the risks he was taking? Did Phillipa?
Reportedly, it will be months before the findings of the public inquiry are edited and published, but the town cannot and will not wait. The community is doing its best to pull together, but as we face the first anniversary of the Sedgefield’s darkest hour, we need answers.
Why was the theatre opened when it was clearly unsafe to do so?
Had the contractors been appointed on a wink and a nod, along with the approvals for the various planning consents and building inspections?
How did the fire spread through the roof space unchecked, and why didn’t the smoke detectors pick up a warning sooner?
Was it a spark from a shorted circuit that started the fire, or was it ignited by the flash of Phillipa Montgomery’s smile when the authorities gave her the go-ahead for her vanity project?
Should we put our faith in the public inquiry? Can we trust that this tragedy will be investigated fully and without bias?
When will the people of Sedgefield receive justice?