‘Let’s get you out of here, Fran.’
Fran struggled into a sitting position. ‘Not sure I can walk. Ankle hurts, too.’
‘I’ll lift you. Don’t worry.’
‘No. I can’t just leave him. He must be so scared.’
Johnny sighed. ‘Fran, I know how much Red means to you, but we need to get out of here. Now. If the fire hasn’t already got inside the building, it’ll only be a matter of time before it does.’
In Johnny’s opinion, it was unlikely that the cat could have survived such a blaze, but he wasn’t about to express his fears to Fran. Instead, he did his best to paste an upbeat expression on his face. ‘I expect he’ll be fine. Like he was when you thought he was stuck up that tree, remember?’
A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. ‘Yes. Maybe you’re right.’
‘Noel, you lead the way and make sure the path is clear, and we’ll follow you up.’ Johnny turned back to Fran, aware of Noel brushing past him and heading up the stone steps, his footwearslapping on the granite. Crouching, Johnny was relieved to see Fran’s gaze had a more focused look to it.
‘I might be able to get up,’ she said, pushing herself around and onto her knees.
Using the wall for support, Fran scrambled part-way up, then crumpled again when she tried to take her weight on both feet.
‘Ow, ow, no. Sorry. My ankle.’
‘I’m carrying you, and that’s an end to the conversation,’ Johnny said. ‘Put your arm around my neck.’
With her weight distributed between his arms and taking each step up out of the cellar carefully, they began their ascent. Once out of the cellar, Johnny threaded his way back through the dining room and into the main foyer. Shouldering open the main door, he was relieved to see Noel up ahead of him. Madame Beaufoy and the rest of the search party began to appear, the word that Fran had been found spreading more quickly than the fire.
Through the hazy gloom of smoke, something else became visible, and audible. Flashing lights and sirens greeted them as they headed down the hotel’s front steps.
‘Les pompiers,’ Fran said, on a sigh. ‘Thank God.’
Johnny grinned, the smile staying put as Fran sank her head against his shoulder and folded herself against him.
Penny continued shouting for Fran, even though the words were cut short by a coughing fit. The smoke was getting thicker the further through the building she ran, and as she turned a full circle, Penny realised she was on her own, that she’d left everyone else behind.
Madame Beaufoy had been insistent that they all stay with at least one other person, but she didn’t understand. Fran was lost in this building, and there was smoke getting in everywhere. As she checked another room, Penny rubbed at her face. Hercheeks were wet with tears, and she wasn’t sure if they were because of the smoke or the fact that Fran might die in this place and Penny would never get to see her again. Never get to find out why she’d pretended to be someone she wasn’t, never find out the rest of her story – and Penny realised she wanted that. She didn’t want to lose Fran. Didn’t want the last words they’d spoken to have been negative.
As smoke swirled around her, and Penny ploughed on, she made another decision. If she made it out of this building – and she wasn’t prepared to entertain any other option – she was determined to make things right with Harry, too.
He had to make his own decisions, he had to choose what was best for him, and even though it would cut out a part of her heart if that decision was to go back to Sophie, then Penny would do her best to be happy for him. Would do her best to remain his friend and remember how much fun they’d had. Be happy with that.
If she’d had enough breath, Penny would have laughed at her own resolution. There was no point pretending she’d ever be happy with less than all of Harry, but right now she needed to concentrate on finding Fran, worry about the rest of it once they were all safe.
‘Penny, can you hear me? Where are you?’
Penny heard the muffled shouting. It sounded like Harry, but she couldn’t see him.
‘Harry? Is that you?’
With no reply, and no firm idea of what she’d heard, Penny pushed on into another of the conference rooms. At the far end of the room, she checked behind the glossy mahogany table and the matching set of upholstered chairs. Nothing.
‘Penny. Thank God.’
This time there was no mistaking his voice, and Penny swung around to see Harry, face muffled by a piece of fabric, but his gaze fixed on her as he crossed the room. Reaching her, he raised a hand, gently wiping his thumb across the smoke-streaked grime on her face. His touch made Penny burst into tears.
‘Have you found her?’
He was nodding, holding out the spare face covering for her, all at the same time, but she waved away the piece of cloth.
‘Are you sure she’s OK?’
