Lucky woke up to the sound of picture frames falling in the cafe. He rose coughing, the room smoky, and didn’t bother with clothes, was naked when he opened the bedroom door and slammed it shut again when he saw, at the end of the hallway, the kitchen door ablaze. He turned to Valia, who cupped her mouth with both hands, and he said the cafe was on fire. Valia emptied the two drawers of their bedside table onto a sheet—the contents being their papers and jewellery—rolled it up and threw the package out of the window before climbing out herself, as Lucky put on pants and a jumper and went to find Penny.

Fire now bounced from wall to wall across the ceiling of the hallway and roved down Penny’s bedroom door. Lucky kicked the door, his forearm held protectively in front of his face. Valia crossed the street, a trace of blood in her footprints—a cut from a protruding nailhead in the window frame. She could not feel the graze. The Achillion started shrieking. It was lit up inside, a globe in which a coil burned. Windows popped, incandescent particles blew across the street and landed on Valia’s forearm. Inside, a gust of flame knocked Lucky backwards; on the floor he clawed off his burning jumper and on hands and knees he peered into Penny’s bedroom. He couldn’t see her: all he saw was fire. Some kind of fuel in the kitchen caught alight and whistled up until it popped. The reflection of the fire glowed over Valia’s face, her grinding jaw. A bell rang down the street and Lucky, alone, climbed out of the window in his bedroom. Valia went around to the lane behind the cafe, in case Penelope had escaped through the back. Only smoke slipped out from under the gate.

Firemen in brown coats arrived. The burning structure changed shape, drifted upwards. Lucky, shirtless, the hair on his head and chest singed, sat down in the gutter.

At the front of the cafe Valia stood next to the firemen and pointed to her bedroom window.

‘What are you doing? Go in there!’ she told them. The firemen discussed the electrical wires in the street.

‘We can’t,’ one of them said.

‘My sister might be inside! You need to find her!’

‘We can’t. The fire’s too big.’