1 ...8 9 10 12 13 14 ...17 Maddy approached the door leading to the kitchen, hands in her pockets so she wouldn’t be tempted to touch anything, wanting to make herself as small as possible, and surveyed the wreckage before her. The uPVC back door was distorted and was being boarded up on the outside by two burly firemen. The fire investigation officer – Gary she’d heard him called – and another member of the CSI in red overalls were in the small kitchen, taking photos and analysing the ash around the hob. Maddy stood silently observing the horrific scene. Not only was there fire damage to contend with, there was water damage too from the fire hoses. There was a black puddle of water on the kitchen floor.
‘As you can see, the fire came from the hob,’ Rachel said, still accompanying Maddy. This was where the fire had attacked her kitchen the worst. Maddy assessed the damage. The cupboards either side above the hob were burnt out, the only contents remaining were those that could take the heat, like tins, but even they were misshapen, the paper labels burned clean off. What had been white cupboard doors, were now blackened and scorched. Other units had bubbled due to the heat. Grey and white ash lay everywhere. Bits of plaster were missing from the ceiling. Maddy hoped the fire hadn’t reached the room above.
Amongst the charred remains were what looked like her recipe books. She glanced at the top of the fridge where she kept them. All her books had been removed. Had they been used to feed the fire? Should she raise this, or again, would they assume she’d done it?
No wonder it looked suspicious. Someone had set fire to her kitchen.
‘It looks like you left your hob on,’ Dixons said, appearing beside Maddy, Rachel making room for him.
Maddy frowned at him. ‘That’s impossible. I was out all day. And I didn’t even use it in the morning.’
‘A lot of people forget. Anyway, with the white spirit on the rags and oil paints so close by—’
‘Oil paints?’ It was hard to tell, but there were some remains of metal tubes on the floor which could have contained oil paints.
‘Yes, they didn’t help matters. I suggest you store those in your garage in future.’
‘But I don’t use oil paints!’ Her favourites were acrylics, far quicker drying, or she dabbled in pastels or watercolours. She liked working with acrylics because they were water based, so there was no need for white spirit to clean the brushes. The white spirit she did own was in her garage, left over from the last time she’d done some decorating – when she’d first moved in.
Dixons explained the damage, indicating where the worst of it was.
‘I didn’t do this by the way. I was at work all day. It’s not like I needed a brand new kitchen or anything stupid like that.’
‘Bit of a drastic way to get a new kitchen,’ another fireman piped up. ‘But you’ll be surprised what some will do.’
‘I swear, I didn’t leave the hob on,’ she insisted.
‘I know, Miss Hart, but it does look deliberate,’ Dixons said, his tone noncommittal.
‘I didn’t do it!’
‘Well someone did.’ Dixons’ wore a grim expression. Anger bubbled inside Maddy. She didn’t know which made her angrier: being tacitly accused of arson, or the idea that someone had entered her house with the intention of burning it down. ‘All I can say is, it’s a good job Harry noticed the fire when he did, otherwise your house would be looking a lot worse.’
‘Harry?’ Maddy’s breath caught.
‘Yeah, he made the call.’
Gosh, she had a lot to thank Harry for.
‘We’re making the back door secure and boarding up the kitchen window too, so your house will be safe. We suggest, to access your home, you only come through your front door for the time being.’ Didn’t most people usually access their home through the front door?
Maddy bit down her sarcasm – the firemen were only trying to help her – and nodded in agreement. It all made sense, yet it didn’t. How had a hob she hadn’t left on caught fire? Someone had to have done it. These things didn’t turn on by themselves. Her recipe books didn’t just move. But who would do that? And why?
‘But we’d rather you didn’t access the house at all until we’ve finished our investigations,’ Rachel said. She looked at Maddy with sympathy. Maybe she believed her? After a moment of silence, Rachel continued, ‘Would you like to go upstairs and get some things?’
‘Yes, yes, that would be great.’ Maddy nodded, her heart heavy, remembering the reason why she was in her house and walked up her blackened staircase, refraining from touching the bannister as she climbed. Rachel followed.
‘Everything is clear upstairs,’ Rachel said, as if trying to reassure Maddy. It wasn’t working. Downstairs looked like a bomb had hit the kitchen. ‘It smells a bit smoky up here, where there’s a little smoke damage, but nothing that can’t be fixed with a lick of paint. Up the stairs is the worst of it. Luckily all the bedroom doors were shut, so they haven’t got any smoke damage.’
‘I always shut them to stop the cat going in there,’ Maddy said, reaching her bedroom door.
Rachel stood outside while Maddy grabbed her everyday essentials from her bedroom, putting them into a woven cloth bag, including her phone charger – a crucial piece of equipment, as how else could she make all her calls if her phone was dead?
She rummaged for some fresh clothes but everything reeked of smoke despite the bedroom door being shut. They would have to do for today. Fortunately, having a small kitchen, her washing machine was in the garage, so she’d be able to access it. She thought of the mammoth amount of washing she would have to do. The bed would need changing, the duvet and pillows would have to go to the laundrette and then there were the towels in the bathroom. For now, she needed a change of clean underwear, whether they stank of smoke or not. With everything going on downstairs and knowing Rachel was standing outside, Maddy opted for changing at Harry’s, so stuffed a couple of pairs of clean knickers into her bag. Then, she bundled some clothes together to wash, throwing them into a plastic wash basket.
Laundry basket balanced on her hip, bag over her shoulder, Maddy closed her bedroom door behind her, as if it would keep the room from being contaminated further by smoke and soot, and went into the bathroom to grab her toothbrush and her other indispensable toiletries. Then, closing that door too, she walked past Rachel and entered her third bedroom – the box room like Harry’s. Only hers was a study. In her small filing cabinet under her old oak desk, she found her house insurance details.
She closed the bedroom door behind her as she exited. Rachel smiled. ‘Got everything?’
Maddy paused, thinking of everything she’d grabbed. Had she forgotten anything? Satisfied she hadn’t, she nodded, hugging the basket full of clothes, the heavy bag full of her essentials weighing on her shoulder as she followed Rachel back down the stairs.
Rachel escorted Maddy out of the front door and left her on her driveway. Maddy made her way through her decrepit back gate, dodging firemen and planks of wood, as they boarded her kitchen window and back door. The back gate had taken a beating more from the firemen to gain access to the kitchen, than actual fire damage, as it hung off its hinges lopsidedly. The gate would have been locked from the inside. It had had a fight with an axe. The axe had won.
Maddy would need a notepad and pen to list everything that needed repairing.
While juggling the laundry basket between hands and hip, she pulled the key out of her pocket and unlocked her garage door. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Please let her paintings be safe.
Читать дальше