‘Can’t we try – ’ Smith began.

‘No time! Everybody out! Through the front door.’

His sense of extreme urgency communicated itself to the others. Paul’s chilled mind imagined the unseen tide of calor gas rising within the kitchen, rising until it began to spill over on to the higher dining-room floor, swirling menacingly across towards the fire-place where the leaping flames waited to ignite it. Recollections of accounts he had read of cabin cruisers blown to matchwood by the explosion of calor gas leaked into their bilges flashed across his mind. He helped to hustle the others out of the dining-room into the wet hall. Meredith produced the keys and unlocked the door, fumbling once before he opened it.

A gust of wind and sleet slapped their faces. The women hesitated. It still seemed absurd to leave the house’s shelter and go out into the night.

‘Go on!’ Meredith shouted.

The women were down the steps running towards the vehicles, the men following when flash-point came. The world seemed to explode. Paul got one glimpse of the vehicle sides starkly lit up as if by lightning at the same time that he was seized by the gigantic hand of the blast and hurled towards them. He fell heavily among the women, now prone in the snow beside the van. Almost deaf, he faintly heard screams and shouts. Wet snow seeped coldly through his clothes as he lay there, dazed and semi-conscious. The darkness was attacked by flickering lights, there was a crashing and crackling noise and the world seemed on fire.

17

17 The Final Secret

He tried to move, his battered mind screaming Carol’s name. He raised himself on an elbow, gasping as pain stabbed his left wrist.

An inferno faced him. Great crimson gouts of flame shot from shattered window-frames, leaping skywards, sending waves of heat towards him. A continual roar came from the fire as it spread quickly through the old house, feeding voraciously on its timbers and contents.

He climbed to his feet, swaying, conscious of the fierce breath of the conflagration on his face and the chill of his soaking clothes. Others, dark figures between him and the golden-red backdrop of flames, were sprawled, or were sitting up or were shakily getting to their feet.

Ann was helping Joyce to her feet. Their figures were garishly illuminated. Neither seemed hurt but were obviously shocked. Where was Carol? His heart thumped within him as he saw her body lying yards away. He staggered across, dropped to his knees beside her, saw in a glory of relief that she was moving her head and arms. She recognized him, raised her head. He cradled it gently on his arm.

‘Are you all right?’

He watched, the fire’s warmth hot on his back, as she moved her arms and legs. She seemed unhurt.