Roxy's Baby (19 page)

Roxy began to get excited at the thought of what she was about to do. She would climb to the top of the
house, to that warren of attics, and as she climbed, on each floor she would pile up rubbish and curtains beside windows, in corners. She would start the fire in the old library. All those dry-as-dust books would go up like tinder. She would drop Stevens' matches, setting alight to one floor, before moving quickly down to the next.

From room to room, from floor to floor, lighting a beacon, lighting her way to freedom.

What of the other girls? Surely, she told herself, this was their chance of freedom too. The fire would start far from their part of the house. They would get out. There would be time for them to escape and one day she would tell them all that she had saved them and their babies.

As for the Dyces, she didn't care what happened to them.

Witches and warlocks.

Evil. Pure evil. She hated them.

Her hands were shaking. Here in the dark with a dead body close by her, she was suddenly afraid of nothing – except failing her baby.

Silently she began her journey. On each floor she dragged as much as she could, stacking it together like a bonfire. At last, exhausted, she reached the library. Here
she dragged curtains to one of the old bookcases that was crammed full of old dry books. She began hauling books from their shelves and the curtains muffled the noise of their falling. Dry as dust, they almost crumbled as they fell. Now was the moment. She checked behind her to make sure she had a close access to the doorway leading to the lower floor. She had to escape quickly, and be ready to start the next fire.

How quickly would it take hold? Too quickly, and she wouldn't have time to make it to the next floor. She knew this had to be the craziest thing she had ever done.

She would never do anything crazy again, she promised herself. Enough of excitement. When this was over she would live a nice quiet life with her baby. She'd never complain about being bored again. If she lived through this night, she could handle all the dull, boring days life would throw at her.

If she lived through tonight.

The moment had come. She struck a match, held it for a moment, its flame wavering in the dark. It was now or never. No going back when she dropped this. She took a deep breath and let the match fall from her fingers on to the curtains.

At first she thought it wasn't going to catch. She stepped back, ready to run, stopped when nothing seemed to happen. The weak flame flickered and then seemed to die. Roxy held her breath, not sure what to do. She moved forward to look closer. A little pall of smoke appeared from the folds, and then there was a hiss and a flash, and like a demon, the flame leapt into life.

She couldn't move though she knew she must. Something kept her there. Some fascination she couldn't explain kept her watching as the flames licked round the edges of the tattered curtains, like something alive. She had been right about the books. The flames reached out to them and seemed to eat them up in one fiery gulp. Yet, still she stood. She had to be sure that fire would stay alive, burn, and keep burning. She watched and it amazed her and appalled her how quickly it caught hold, and grew. As if it had a life of its own.

She had once heard a saying – it came back to her now with a horrifying clarity – ‘fire was a good servant, but it was a bad master'. She'd never understood what that really meant, until now.

This fire was going to be nobody's servant.

Already, it was spreading, grabbing, snatching with
fiery fingers at every loose curtain and dry splinter, devouring every book, searching around hungrily for something more to feed it.

Now she had to get away. She shook herself free of the nightmare that held her, and began to move. She began running down to the next floor. Already the flames were after her. She threw tapestries and bags of rubbish, broken chairs behind her as she ran. She dropped anything that would feed that fire. Somehow, noise didn't matter now. Fire was taking hold. She lit another match, dropped it on another pile on the next floor, then another match, just to make sure, before running down the next flight of stairs. This time she didn't wait to watch. She didn't dare. The chase was on and the fire was after her. Knew it had a hold on her, that it could mesmerise her, transfix her, hypnotise her until it could feed on her too.

Down and down she ran, hurtling down the stairs as fast as her bulk allowed. There was no dark now. The fire was orange and red and seemed to have only one thought in mind. It wanted her. It wanted Roxy.

‘A bad master.' No servant at all.

It would not be controlled or told what to do. It had come alive, turned into something terrifying.

Yet still not as terrifying as the Dyces.

Where were they now?

She was on the first floor, and already the fire was beginning to rage above her. Surely, the panic would have started. The Dyces would be running, hopefully too busy to even think about her.

Look for her.

Or were they caught in the flames on the floors above?

Roxy was breathless, exhausted, but she had to keep going. No time to stop, already smoke was following her, drifting relentlessly after her. She heard a scream, then another, screeching into the summer night. One of the girls, alerted, was now warning the others. Good. She wanted none of them hurt in this.

Part of her wanted to run out of the house then, forget lighting the last fire on the servants' staircase. She didn't need it. The fire was eating the house, growing stronger, chasing her, blazing with anger now.

Yet she still couldn't take the chance. This had to be the biggest blaze ever. One that could be seen for miles. Roxy gathered sticks and broken bits of furniture, pulled curtains from walls and pictures with their wooden frames, piled them high on the stairs, on the
floor, leading down to the bottom corridor. She would break the window on that corridor and get out that way. Not through the door behind the table. It was too risky going that way. The Dyces might just be there, waiting for her. They would show her no mercy. No, she would make her escape through the window, and then it would be a mad race to the shelter of the long grass. She took a deep breath and prayed, and then she dropped the last of the matches, striking not just one, but two, three in her excitement.

She longed to get into the open air, fill her lungs and run as far from this house as she could. She would wait in the grass for the fire brigade to come, as surely they must. The police would be with them. Oh, how she longed for that moment. Ready for questions to be asked, and answered.

The last fire leapt into life and Roxy stumbled back from it, her heart racing, her stomach heavy. ‘Soon we'll rest, baby.' She said it softly. ‘Soon.'

The house was ablaze. No stopping it now. Roxy stood for a moment, fascinated, feeling the heat envelop her, the smoke reaching out for her.

She could hardly breathe. Her eyes were smarting so badly she could hardly see. She had to get out of here.
Now. A sudden leap of flame made her jump, brought her out of her stupor. She moved, looking around and wishing she had broken that window before she dropped the matches. Yet, how could she? The smashing of glass might have alerted the Dyces before she had the chance to run to any kind of safety. This had been the only way.

She ran to the window. It looked out on to the back of the house and out and on to the fields. She could make them out through the cracks in the shutter. She glanced back, expecting to see the fire rushing at her, searching her out with its tongues of flame, its licking fingers. Sending out smoke to weaken her first. She grabbed at the shutters, and pulled.

Nothing happened.

No. This couldn't be. The shutters stayed closed. In every other floor they practically fell off in her hands, dry splintered wood, weak with age. Yet here, when she needed them to break open most, they were jammed tight. Could she make it to the next window? No. The fire would reach there first, and anyway, would the shutters there give any easier? She was growing frantic, grabbing, pulling at them, ignoring splinters and blood, pulling with a strength she didn't know she had. She
was desperate to survive, desperate to save her baby. Now she had another enemy. One of her own making. The fire. It didn't care who its victim was. But it must have a sacrifice.

Suddenly, she roared, ‘It's not going to be us!' She yelled it through the flames and the smoke. She screamed it like a demon, and in that second the shutters broke open. She fell back, scrabbled to her feet, gripped the window sill to pull herself up and over. She punched at the glass with both hands. ‘We're getting out!' she told her baby. ‘We're getting out of here.'

The glass smashed, and though her hands were bleeding, she didn't feel any pain. She climbed on to the sill. The sky was burnt orange, it was like the brightest golden sunset. The air hung with the acrid smell of smoke.

‘Please, let all of the girls be safe,' she prayed. Then she jumped on to the grass. Her dress caught on a nail, but she yanked it free and she ran towards the long grass. She could hear screams coming from the front of the house, in the distance, but they came from the open air. The girls were outside, had to be. She didn't stop running or look back until she was hidden from view, throwing herself on to the ground. She was exhausted.
She turned on her back and watched Dragon House burn. There would be nothing left of it. Already its blazing windows were like gaping red eyes. The roof timbers were alive with fire and the sky was aflame.

Nothing would be left of it. Good.

And in the distance … could she hear the sound of a siren wailing closer?

Surely she could. That couldn't be her hopeful imagination.

Roxy tried to sit up. Now she felt the pain, in her bleeding hands, on her raw face, in her aching back. She gasped as a spasm gripped her and held her in a vice for a moment before letting her go.

But she knew it would be back.

She knew then she had something more than the fire to worry about.

She was in labour.

No! She couldn't be in labour – not now, not yet. She wasn't safe yet. Here, she was alone – and she was afraid. She tried to stand up when another spasm of pain tightened its grip on her. What was she going to do now? This wasn't fair. If only the fire brigade were here now, instead of somewhere in the distance, wailing closer. Please, hurry. She fell on her knees as if in prayer, saw figures running frantically round the house, silhouetted against the fire. She needed help, but not from them. She would be back in the Dragons' lair if she stepped out of the long grass and signalled for help. They'd take her baby, kill her baby, kill her.

No, she had to stay here. The fire brigade were on their way, she held on to that. More than one would come to a fire like this with its tentacles shooting out, reaching for anything that would burn. Already the grass was on fire and the trees nearest the house were
ablaze. She could feel the intense heat even here. Her doing, this fire destroying Dragon House.

Destroy it, then! she screamed silently. I want it destroyed.

She gasped as she saw Dragon Woman appear, trying to herd the girls together, trying to keep them from panicking. She couldn't do it and Roxy was glad. The girls couldn't understand what she was trying to tell them. The only thing they did understand was fire. The same in any language. They pulled away from her screaming. Then Roxy bent double as another pain racked its way through her. Coming so often? What did that mean? That her baby would soon be born? Not now, it was too soon. She still had a month to go. And not here, not while Dragon Woman could still grasp her baby from her.

She watched Dragon Woman look all around her. Was she looking for Dragon Man, her husband, or was it Roxy she still searched for?

As the siren wailed closer Roxy could see, even from the distance, the panic on Dragon Woman's face. No mistaking now. Soon, soon help would come. Help she could trust. In her sudden panic, Dragon Woman began pushing, herding the girls into the jeep. Roxy knew
what she was going to do. She was going to get away before the firemen came. She was going to take as many of the girls as she could, protect their investment, even now. Take some of the girls for their vile evil purposes, take them somewhere else, to some other Dragon House and it would all start again.

Roxy had to stop that. But how? She was growing weaker with every contraction. She let out a low moan as yet another gripped her. Her baby, eager to get out. He would be here soon. But she couldn't let them get away to trick another Anne Marie, to take another Aidan. She wouldn't let them get away.

Dragon Woman was piling, pushing girls into the jeep, and the girls were fighting for a place, thinking it was safety they were going to. If she didn't think of something soon they would get away.

Roxy staggered to her feet. There was only one way to stop her. She began heading for Dragon Woman. The fire engines were close, so close they had to be here on time. But if Dragon Woman saw her, it would hold her up just long enough for them to arrive.

One of the girls saw Roxy first. She started screaming and gesturing wildly, pulling at Dragon Woman, pointing to Roxy as she staggered closer. Dragon
Woman looked up and her eyes flashed with hate and anger.

‘You little …' Dragon Woman screamed at her, jumped from the jeep. She was coming at her, anger roaring from her like the fire. Roxy turned then and she began to run. She ran towards the fire engines wailing closer, but she knew Dragon Woman was faster than she was. Dragon Woman was after her now.

Then Roxy saw them. She could have screamed with happiness. Three fire engines, their headlights beaming at her, advancing like great red monsters come to fight the Dragons. She began shouting, screaming, waving her arms about madly. Still she could hear mad Dragon Woman closing in on her. Ignoring everything in her thirst for revenge on Roxy. She would kill her even then, somehow Roxy knew that. But Roxy was going to make it. Her baby was going to make it.