‘Where are you?’
‘In the bonfire.’
‘What?’
‘I’m going to die,’ she sobs. ‘I’m sorry for what I did to you, but please help me.’
Margot knows. She knows who Drew and I are. And I know that, despite everything, I can’t allow her to die like this.
Without thinking, I run hell for leather towards the event’s organisers and the fire marshals in their yellow vests as Drew shouts after me. His voice is becoming distant, so I assume he’s no longer following me. My exposed cheeks feel the rising heat of the flames like those Drew and I were almost burned alive by. I clench my fists to stop the panic from consuming me.
‘Put it out!’ I gasp as I point to the bonfire. ‘Someone is in there.’
‘What?’ one of the men replies.
‘There’s someone trapped inside the bonfire,’ I yell. ‘You have to help them!’
Understandably he looks baffled. ‘You think someone is in the bonfire?’
Now I’m screaming like a madwoman. ‘Listen to me! You have to get them out.’
He glares at me as if I’m insane. But he knows he can’t take the risk of ignoring me. He grabs his two colleagues by the arms and they run towards a hose reel drum and hosepipe attached to the wall of the community centre. Then, in front of a bewildered crowd, they push people to one side and get as close as they can to the flames, and set about dousing them with a thick jet of water.
‘What’s happening?’ someone asks.
‘Margot’s in the bonfire!’ I reply, and I know how ridiculous it sounds as soon as I say it.
Once the blaze is out, one of the marshals continues firing water at the burnt pile to prevent it from reigniting. Word spreadsquickly and dozens of people rush towards it. They become soaked by the freezing spray but that doesn’t dissuade them from pulling at the smouldering embers and tossing them to one side.
Please be alive, please be alive, I repeat until they reach the lower portion of the bonfire.
‘I’ve found her!’ a voice shouts just as the crowd parts for the arriving ambulance and paramedics that someone must have called. ‘She’s breathing,’ the voice continues, and I’m flooded with relief, grateful that despite his best efforts, my brother hasn’t killed her.
Time stands still for I don’t know how long, and I can’t see what the paramedics are doing until they lift a body on to a stretcher and carry it towards the waiting ambulance. Margot is barely recognisable. Soot has blackened her face and clothes and she’s coughing and spluttering as oxygen is pumped into a mask they’ve affixed to her face. As she passes me, she opens her eyes. They are stark and white and in contrast to the rest of her shadowy face. Her hand suddenly reaches out, grabs my coat and pulls me towards her with unexpected strength. She won’t let go and I’m forced to join her as she is wheeled across the grass and towards the open rear doors of the ambulance. Then she beckons me closer. Now she’s holding my hand and mutters something. Her voice is so hoarse.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t understand you,’ I say.
She pulls me closer still and pushes up her mask until her blackened lips brush my ear.
And when she speaks, I know that nothing in my life is ever going to be the same again.
Chapter 67
Anna
There are no lights on inside my house as I approach it. Drew’s work van is no longer parked on the drive and the back door to the house remains how I left it, unlocked. I enter, quietly closing and locking it behind me. I remain still, listening for any signs of life in the eerie silence, in case my brother is actually here. My hands are trembling, partly down to the biting cold and partly from the shock of the night’s events. I clench and unclench my fists but it doesn’t stop the persistent shakes.
Upstairs in the bathroom, I strip out of my clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor. Bonfire smoke has seeped into the threads and stuck to my skin. I turn the shower up to a medium heat and wince when a jet of water hits the wound on my forehead. I rinse matted blood out of my hair, then shampoo it twice. When I’m finished, I turn the heat up a few more notches until it’s almost unbearable. It scalds the scars on my thigh but I don’t budge despite how much it hurts. Then I find myself crying, slapping the tiles over and over again to distract from the pain. And only when the rest of my skin feels as if it wants to slide off my body do I turn the temperature down and attack myself with a body scrub, usingmost of a bottle. I rub the grit into my scar, encouraging it to hurt more. Finally, I slump against the wall, slide down into the shower tray and allow the water to cascade over me.
I’m not sure how long I remain there because I’m busy replaying the police interview from earlier. Our conversation was more a fact-finding mission than a formal statement. I’ll have to make that at the station tomorrow. I hope what I told them was convincing, but the more I think about it, the less convinced I am.
I told the detectives I’d picked up a phone with an illuminated screen which I found near the playing field’s tennis court. Margot’s voice had come out of the blue. I’d been trying to get hold of her all day but she hadn’t returned my calls. I explained how, to begin with, I couldn’t make sense of what she was telling me, something about being trapped in the bonfire. I said I’d thought she was drunk, as she’d found it tough after the recent separation from her husband. Then, when I knew she was being serious, I dropped the phone and ran to alert the fire marshals.
I failed to mention I took the phone with me. I’ve since turned it off and removed the battery and SIM card, and as soon as it gets light and I can see what I’m doing, I’ll hide it inside a waterproof bag and tie it to a conifer branch a couple of metres high in the back garden where it won’t be seen.
The DS asked who I thought might want to hurt Margot and I mentioned a stalker who sends her macabre gifts.
I said nothing about my brother.
