Oh, how wrong I was.

Ben slips his hand onto my knee and leaves it resting there. I rest my hand on top, threading my fingers through his. Neither of us says anything. No one needs to. In my mind’s eye I have an image of us from above: this little white van speeding through the countryside, a white dot in the darkness. There’s a chill tonight and the heaters are blowing, but cocooned together in the warmth, I can’t remember the last time I felt this happy.

‘What’s that?’

Abruptly I catch sight of flashing lights in the wing mirror, followed seconds later by the sound of a siren wailing behind us.

‘It looks like the police,’ says Ben, checking his rear-view. ‘There must have been an accident.’

He takes his hand off my knee and puts both hands on the wheel as he pulls over, allowing them to pass on the narrow lane.

A police car races past, sirens shrieking. I feel a beat of alarm.

‘I hope the people are OK,’ I murmur, my mood suddenly sober. ‘I wonder where it’s going?’

‘Looks like it’s heading to Nettlewick.’ Ben’s voice is drowned out by more sirens. ‘Shit!’

This time it’s a fire engine. Two of them.

As they hurtle past, the atmosphere inside the van suddenly darkens. Checking the road’s clear, Ben pulls back onto it. Neither of us says anything, but I notice his knuckles are white on the wheel as we follow them. He speeds up. Anxiety twists in the pit of my stomach.

‘I’m sure it’s fine. Probably a false alarm from someone.’

But even as I’m saying it, we’re pulling into the village and ahead of us I can see the cluster of fire engines and police cars, the flashing lights . . .

‘There’s a fire! A house is on fire!’

The panic in Ben’s voice cuts through me, and my heart starts to race.

‘No. It can’t be.’

I strain forward, trying to see. Dread and fear clutch at my throat. Which house? Which house? I smell the smoke before I see it, billowing into the sky. Feel my worst fears realized as I recognize the house that’s ablaze.

‘Please God. No!’

PC Neesha Sharma

The call came through to the station as she was about to go off-duty and head home. It was from the operator at the control room of the Fire and Rescue Service. Someone had called 999 to report a house fire. A Mrs Iris Shackleton from the village of Nettlewick. She gave the address of her neighbour’s house. At first it didn’t register. Nettlewick was ten miles away and a rural community in the northernmost part of the district. They weren’t the village’s local police station, but it was asking for backup. Apparently it was a pretty bad house fire.

PC Sharma thought about passing it on to a colleague. It had been a long shift and all she could think about was a takeaway and a hot bath. But it was her job. She had a duty. It could be her family one day that needed help. It was only when she was in the patrol car on the way that she remembered Nettlewick was where Maya had said she was babysitting tonight. Straight away she called her daughter, but it went to voicemail. Maya never turned her phone off. That’s when Neesha’s blood ran cold.