As if this apparition was offering any such transport.
‘Are you guys okay?’ It was the driver, a grim-faced woman in her fifties, swinging out of the cab and facing them with apprehension.
‘No casualties,’ Rob told her. ‘Apart from minor burns on our dog’s feet. But we have burn cream. And ice cream. And one intact house.’
‘Good for you.’ The guys with her were surveying Amina’s house and then looking towards their intact house with surprise. ‘You managed to save it?’
‘It saved itself. We hid in a bunker.’
‘Bloody lucky. Can you stay here?’
‘Amina’s pregnant,’ Rob said. ‘And her husband will be going out of his mind not knowing if she’s safe.’
The woman looked at Amina, noting Danny, noting everything, Julie thought. She had the feeling that this woman was used to making hard decisions.
‘We’ll put her on the list for evacuation,’ she said. ‘How pregnant are you?’
‘Thirty-six weeks,’ Amina whispered.
‘No sign of labour?’
‘N...no.’
‘Then sorry, love, but that puts you down the list. We’re radioing in casualties and using the chopper for evacuation, but the chopper has a list a mile long of people with burns, accidents from trying to outrun the fire or breathing problems. And it’s a huge risk trying to take anyone out via the road. There’s so much falling timber I’m risking my own team being here. Do you have water? Food?’
‘We’re okay,’ Rob told her. ‘We have solar power, generators, water tanks, freezers and a stocked pantry. We have plenty of uncontaminated water and more canned food than we know what to do with.’
‘Amazing,’ the woman told him. ‘It sounds like you’re luckier than some of the towns that have been in the fire line. We managed to save houses but they’re left with no services. Meanwhile, there are houses further up the mountain that haven’t been checked. Our job’s to get through to them, give emergency assistance and detail evacuation needs for the choppers, but by emergency we’re talking life-threatening. That’s all we can do—we’re stretched past our limits. But we will take your name and get it put up on the lists at the refuge centres to say you’re safe,’ she told Amina. ‘That should reassure your husband. Meanwhile, stay as cool as you can and keep that baby on board.’
‘But we have no way of contacting you if anything...happens,’ Rob said urgently and the woman grimaced.
‘I know and I’m sorry, but I’m making a call here. We’ll get the road clear as soon as we can but that’ll be late tomorrow at the earliest, and possibly longer. There’s timber still actively burning on the roadside. It’s no use driving anyone out if a tree’s to fall on them, and that’s a real risk. You have a house. Your job is to protect it a while longer and thank your lucky stars you’re safe. Have as good a Christmas as you can under the circumstances—and make sure that baby stays where it is.’
* * *
They watched the fire truck make its cautious way to the next bend and disappear. All of them knew what they were likely to find. It was a subdued little party that picked its way through the rubble and back to the house.
Luka greeted them with dulled pleasure. His paws obviously hurt. Rob had put on burn cream and dressings. They were superficial burns, he reported, but they were obviously painful enough for the big dog to not want to bother his bandages.
Danny lay down on the floor with him, wrapped his arms around his pet’s neck and burst into tears.
‘My husband wanted a dog to protect us when he was away,’ Amina volunteered, and she sounded close to tears herself. ‘But Luka’s turned into Danny’s best friend. Today Luka almost killed him—and yet here I am, thanking everything that Danny still has him. I hope...I hope...’
And Julie knew what she was hoping. This woman had gone through war and refugee camps. She’d be thinking she was homeless once again. With a dog.
Once upon a time as a baby lawyer, Julie had visited a refugee camp. She couldn’t remember seeing a single dog.
‘It’s okay, Amina,’ she told her. ‘If you’ve been renting next door, then you can just rent here instead. This place is empty.’
‘But...’ Rob said.
‘We never use it.’ Julie cast him an uncertain glance. ‘We live...in other places. I know you have a lot to think about and this will be something you and your husband need to discuss together, but, right now, don’t worry about accommodation. You can stay here for as long as you want.’
‘But don’t...don’t you need to discuss it with your husband?’ Amina asked, casting an uncertain glance at Rob.
Her husband. Rob. She glanced down at the wedding ring, still bright on her left hand. She still had a husband—and yet she hadn’t made one decision with him for four years.
‘Rob and I don’t live together,’ she said, and she couldn’t stop the note of bleakness she could hear in her own words. ‘We have separate lives, separate...homes. So I’m sure you agree, don’t you, Rob. This place may as well be used.’
There was a moment’s pause. Silence hung, and for a moment she didn’t know how it could end. But then... ‘It should be a home again,’ Rob said. ‘Julie and I can’t make it one. It’d be great if you and Henry and your children could make it happy again.’
‘No decisions yet,’ Amina urged. ‘Don’t promise anything. But if we could... If Henry’s safe—’ She broke off again and choked on tears. ‘But it’s too soon for anything.’
* * *
Rob went off to check the perimeter with his mop and bucket again. They had a wide area of burned grass between them and any smouldering timber. The risk was pretty much over but still he checked.
Amina and Danny went to bed. There was a made-up guest room with a lovely big bed, but Danny had spotted the racing-car beds. That was where he wanted to sleep—so Amina tugged one racing car closer to the other and announced that she was sleeping there, with her son.
She was asleep almost as her head hit the pillow. Had she slept at all last night? Julie wondered. She thought again of past fighting and refugee camps and all this woman had gone through.
Danny was fast asleep too. He was sharing his car-bed with Luka. Julie stood in the doorway and looked at them, this little family who’d been so close to disaster.
Disaster was always so close...
Get over it, she told herself harshly. Move on. She needed work to distract herself. She needed legal problems to solve, paperwork to do—stuff that had to be done yesterday.
Rob was out playing fireman but there was no need for the two of them to be there. So what was she supposed to do? Go to bed? She wasn’t tired or if she was her body wasn’t admitting it. She felt weird, exposed, trapped. Standing in her children’s bedroom watching others sleep in their beds... Knowing a man who was no longer her husband was out protecting the property...
What to do? What to do?
Christmas.
The answer came as she headed back down the hall. There in the sitting room was her Christmas tree. Was it only last night that she’d decorated it? Why?
And the answer came clear, obvious now as it hadn’t been last night. Because Danny needed it. Because they all needed it?
‘Will Santa know to come here?’ Danny had asked and Rob had reassured him.
‘Santa knows where everyone is.’
That had been a promise and it had to be kept. She wouldn’t mind betting Danny