Part 23 (2/2)

I returned to my bank and drew out another sheaf of banknotes and used some of them to buy a box of chocolates and a bouquet of spring flowers for my neighbour.

I parked the Mondeo on the road outside my cottage, the same road I had rolled across the previous night. I took a brief look at the sorry remains of my abode. It was not a pretty sight with its blackened walls standing pitifully alone and roofless, pointing upwards at the grey sky above. I turned away gloomily and went to knock on my neighbour's door. She answered not in her pink ensemble of last night but in a green tweed skirt with a long-sleeved cream jumper and sensible brown shoes. Her hair was as neat as before but, this time, without the hairnet.

'Oh h.e.l.lo, dear,' she said, smiling. She looked at the bouquet. 'Oh, are those for me? They're lovely. Come on in.'

I gave her the flowers and she headed back towards the kitchen. I closed her front door and followed, sitting again at the, now familiar, kitchen table.

'Would you like some tea, dear?' she said, as she placed the flowers in a vase by the sink.

'I'd love some,' I said.

She set the kettle to boil and fussed around with her flowers until she was happy with the arrangement.

'There,' she said at length. 'So beautiful. Thank you.'

'Thank you you,' I said. 'I'm not sure what I would have done without you last night.'

'Nonsense, dear,' she said. 'I was just glad to be able to help.'

We sat and drank tea, just as we had done some twelve hours ago.

'Do you know yet what caused it?' she asked.

'No,' I said. 'The fire brigade say they will send their investigation team to have a look. It's pretty well burnt everything. You can just about tell the difference between what was the fridge and what was the was.h.i.+ng machine but even those are badly melted by the heat. The oven is recognizable but the rest has seemingly gone completely.'

'I'm so sorry, dear,' said my kindly neighbour.

'Well, at least it didn't get me,' I said with a smile.

'No, dear,' she said, patting my arm. 'I'm glad about that.'

So was I.

'Do you know what you will do?' she asked.

'I'm staying with a work colleague for the next couple of days,' I said. 'Then I'll try to find somewhere more permanent.'

'I really meant with the house, dear,' she said. 'Are you going to rebuild?'

'Oh, I expect so,' I said. 'I'll have to wait and see what the insurance company says.'

I stayed with her for over an hour and, by that time, dear, she had showed me photos of all her many children and her very many grandchildren. Most of them lived in Australia and she was obviously quite lonely and thankful for having someone to talk to. We opened the chocolates, and I had a. second cup of tea.

I finally extricated myself from her life story and went back next door for a closer look at the remnants of my castle. I was not alone. A man in a dark blue jersey and royal blue trousers was picking his way through the ash.

'h.e.l.lo,' I said. 'Can I help you?'

'I'm fire brigade,' he said. 'From the investigation team.'

'Oh right,' I said. 'I own this heap of garbage.'

'Sorry,' he said.

'Ah well.' I smiled. 'At least my ashes aren't here for you to find.'

'Are anyone's?' he asked seriously.

'No,' I said. 'There was no one else in the house. Well, not unless they broke in after I had gone to bed, and then died in the fire.'

'It wouldn't be the first time,' he said, unamused.

He went on poking the ash with a stick. At one point he stopped and bent down, placing some of the ash into a plastic bag that he produced from his pocket.

'What have you found?' I asked him.

'Nothing special,' he said. 'It's just for an accelerant test.'

'What's that?' I asked.

'Test to see if an accelerant was present,' he said. 'An accelerant like petrol, paint thinners or paraffin, that sort of thing.'

'I thought it was electrical,' I said.

'Probably was,' he said. 'Most fires are electrical but we need to do the test anyway. I don't expect it to show much. This place is so badly burnt out that it will be d.a.m.n nearly impossible to determine how it started.'

He went back to his poking of the ash. After a while he lifted something up on his stick as if landing a salmon.

'Aha,' he said. 'What have we got here?'

It looked like a black molten lump to me. I didn't recognize it as anything I had once owned.

'What is it?' I asked.

'Your smoke detector,' he said.

I couldn't remember having heard its alarm go off.

'You should have had a battery in it,' he said. 'It's not much use without a battery. You might have got the brigade here sooner and saved something if your detector had had a battery.'

'But it did have a battery,' I said.

'No, sir,' he said with conviction. 'It did not. See how the Peat has caused it to seal up completely?' He showed the lump to me. I would have to take his word for it. 'If there had been a battery, then it would still be there, or at least the remains of it would. I can still see the clip but there are no battery terminals attached to it. It definitely did not have a battery in it.' He paused as if for effect. 'It's not the first time I've seen this. Loads of people forget to replace a flat battery or, like you, they take out the old one and then forget to put a new one back in.'

But I hadn't forgotten. There had to have been a battery in the detector. I had replaced it, as I always did, when the clocks went forward for summertime in March. It had gone off just last week when I had again burnt some toast. It definitely had a battery. I was sure of it, just as sure as my investigator friend was that it had been batteryless.

I went cold and clammy. Someone had obviously removed my smoke detector battery before setting my house alight with me in it. With or without an accelerant, an established fire at the bottom of the stairs would have given me little chance of escaping. I had simply been lucky to wake up when I had.

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