He draws back the zoom for a wider shot. The crowd standing at the cordon come into view, phones aloft. People turn their backs and take grinning selfies with the inferno as their backdrop.

Back on the library now, and the front wall leans perilously towards the road below. The phones are raised higher, the excitement audible.

Will puts the camera down on the ledge. April is sitting on the dusty concrete behind him, wiping the back of her hand against her eyes.

‘You OK?’ Will asks.

‘Get your pictures,’ she says.

She needs you. You’re there for her.

Will shakes his head at the thought of Nain’s words. Why did she say those things? What the hell is going on here?

‘This is hard for you, isn’t it?’

‘Silly,’ April says. ‘It’s just a building. Look at the fucking state of me.’

‘It’s OK. The place means an awful lot to you.’

She stands, head bowed, arms limp at her side.

Will’s never hugged a woman before, not one he isn’t related to, anyway. But, on this day, when the rules are on hold, it’s the most natural thing to do.

The tower beneath them begins vibrating a clear half-second before the noise starts – a sound like a quarry truck tipping its load. They hold each other and watch as the front wall of the library drops, folding along its middle as it goes. The side wall follows seconds later, a diagonal landslide of bricks. Like it’s been riddled with a giant poker, the fire roars skyward.

Will looks at April from the corner of his eye. Her face flashes orange, glittering embers reflected in her wet eyes. It’s the most raw and devastating and beautiful thing he’s ever seen. There’s a split second when he thinks how this would make the perfect photograph.

April hugs him a little tighter and the thought is gone.

A Turn

Will gnaws at the rim of his cup, washing down the nuggets of polystyrene with slurps of scalding hospital tea. Whispered conversations between medics are drowned out by sprung doors phutting closed and never-answered phones bleating at nursing stations.

‘I could do without this,’ Will’s mum mutters, not for the first time. She huffs and drags her fingers through her long hair.

‘Go home if you like,’ Will says, sounding more irritated than he intended.

‘It’s not your problem to deal with, love.’ She pats his knee. ‘Want another Snickers?’ She nods towards the vending machine and digs in her bag for change.

‘I’m good.’ He stops himself mentioning that, in fact, it was her who ate the first one, knowing the stress that will cause.

He had a free period after lunch and was bound for the darkroom when the text landed: Nain been rushed to hospital. Nothing to worry about. Mx