She nodded. “Here. Take these.”
“You can’t stay. The fire has spread. I’ve called the fireys, but they’ll be at least half an hour. Apparently, they’re all volunteers who live nearby.”
Evie’s heart sank. She knew Coral Island’s fire department was staffed by volunteers, but that tidbit of trivia had never felt personal until this moment. “There’s a hose on the left side of the building. See if it will help.”
With a quick nod, David collected the bags and hurried away. Evie filled two more bags, but she had to raise her shirt up over her nose to breathe by that time. She coughed and wheezed, then with one last glance around the bookshop, she ducked out through the front door.
When she got outside, the last of her breath was stolen away by what she saw.
The entire building was ablaze. She had to stumble down the steps past a raging inferno that nipped at her legs and body. The intense heat caused her to gasp. Emily held out her arms, face streaked with tears and soot. Evie fell against her sister, who embraced her with a cry.
“I thought you were going to die. You shouldn’t have stayed inside so long.”
“I’m sorry,” Evie whispered, her throat hoarse. She hadn’t realised how close she’d come to disaster. The fire was muted inside, mostly smoke and ash. The outside of the building burned out of control.
She stepped away from her sister, set down the bags on the ground and stared in disbelief as her shop and Bea’s café were consumed by flames that leapt and snapped and rose higher with each moment. A few of the men struggled with a tiny hose that sprayed a limp arc of water at the side of the building. The rest of the book club group remained at a distance, watching in horror. People from all over Kellyville arrived in clumps to stare and shake their heads.
Beatrice sidled up to Evie and slipped an arm through hers. She didn’t speak. They both stood in silence, gaping at the disaster before them.
“I’m so sorry,” David said.
Evie nodded. “Thanks.”
“It’s going to be okay.” Beatrice patted her arm.
“I’m glad everyone got out in time,” Evie replied, still unable to process how it had all gone so wrong so fast.
“What happened?” Emily asked, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Streaks of soot smudged across her cheeks.
Charmaine stepped forward. “It was Sean.”
“You don’t know that,” Bea replied with a sympathetic look.
“Yes, we do,” Evie countered. “He took a lit candle with him when he left. He was angry.”
“I’m sorry,” Charmaine said as tears pooled in her eyes. “This is all my fault.”
Evie and Bea reached for her in unison. They embraced her as one. “It’s not your fault. Don’t say that,” Bea said.
“Bea’s right. This isn’t your doing. It’s his.”
“But he’s here because of me,” Charmaine sobbed.
“You couldn’t know he’d do something like this.”
The island’s fire engine arrived then, and the volunteer fire brigade got to work extinguishing the flames. It took hours before they were left with a smouldering mess. The rest of the book club had gone home by then. They’d all been examined by paramedics, who arrived soon after the fire engine. Everyone was cleared to leave, and most of them had gone much earlier in the night. Only Evie, Emily, Beatrice and Charmaine remained. The four women huddled in a group, covered in smudges of black soot and with tear-streaked faces as the sun glimmered on the horizon.
“We should get some sleep,” Evie said.
Emily nodded. “Come on—let’s go home. We can’t do anything else now.”
Beatrice sighed. “I’ll call you later. We can figure out what to do.”
“Okay,” Evie said. She let herself be led away by Emily. Her heart was a stone in her chest. Her head throbbed, and her eyes were sore from crying. Everything she’d worked so hard to build for so many years was gone. Her dream was over, her livelihood ruined. She had nothing left.
Thirteen
Charmaine lay on her back,staring up at the ceiling fan overhead. It turned slowly, whirring in a steady rhythm. She’d sweated all over her sheets throughout the day. At least she’d washed off the soot and smoke from the previous night before crashing into bed. She’d left a message for Betsy that she wouldn’t be able to work and had spent the day tossing and turning in her small bed. The air-conditioning hadn’t successfully fought off the heat of the day, blasting warm air into the room. She needed a new unit, but if she was moving to Bea’s cottage, there was no point asking for one.
