Suddenly there was a crackle above us and smoke rose from the roof.

“The roof has caught,” Ronnie shouted. “Come on, let’s try and put it out before it takes hold.”

Craig, the sheriff, and his remaining deputy followed Ronnie into the house. I hesitated, then decided I might be able to help too. “Buckets. We need buckets,” I heard him shouting. “Maria? Francisco?”

His voice echoed in the high-ceilinged foyer. At that moment Maria came flying down the stairs, followed by Mrs. Goldman and Miss Kindell, clutching at each other and still in their robes.

“The whole place is on fire,” Barbara Kindell shouted. “You can’t go up there.”

“Someone should save the candlesticks.” Mrs. Goldman waved her arms frantically.

“Relax, honey. They’re insured, aren’t they?” Barbara tried to calm her.

“I don’t know. Did he say he’d insured them or he was going to?”

I noticed that her concern wasn’t for her husband’s body.

Ronnie had grabbed some pots and pans and now ran up the stairs. I followed, reluctantly. We crossed the landing and were at the foot of the second staircase when Ronnie turned back, his face ashen. “It’s no use. The fire has come through the ceiling up there.” And even as he was speaking we heard the creak and crash of collapsing timber and exploding glass.

“Everyone into the pool,” Charlie Chaplin shouted as we appeared from the front door again. “It’s our only hope right now.”

We didn’t wait to be urged a second time. Algie, Belinda and my mother made it first with surprising speed. I believe Algie knocked my mother out of the way to get down the steps first. The rest of us followed. Queenie hesitated as we jumped in. “I can’t swim, miss,” she called.

“Then get in the shallow end and duck under the water if the fire comes over us.”

The surface of that lovely blue water was already marred with ash and I wondered what we would do if the fire really did come over us. How long could we hold our breath under the water? Smoke was now billowing from the open front door and the roar and crackle echoed out. Suddenly from above us there was a horrible scream. I looked up to see Stella at an open window, high above us. We had forgotten all about her.

“My door is locked,” she screamed. “I can’t get out. Someone help me.”

Bella was out of the pool like a shot. “Hang on, Gertie, I’m coming,” she shouted. She ran around the side of the house until she found a part of the wall that was made of rough stone. She went up this like a spider, then inched her way across on a ledge until she reached her sister’s window.

“Come on, Gertie. You’ve got to trust me. Come on. Follow me.”