Jack was hit by a wave of heat so intense it almost knocked him off his feet. The air was scorching and burnt all the way into his lungs. Hacking violently, he peeked from beneath the sacking. The room was a swirl of smoke, ash and flames. To his right, one wall was engulfed in fire, the kitchen area a brimstone hell in which no one could survive. To his left, the raised wooden sleeping area smouldered but had yet to catch alight.

In the far corner he caught a glimpse of a makeshift cot and heard the high-pitched screams of the abandoned baby. The infant began to wheeze and choke as smoke descended over the cot.

Pulling the wet sacking closer round his face, Jack dashed across the room. Even through the soles of his sandals, he could feel the blistering heat of the wooden deck. It wouldn’t be long before the whole floor burst into flames.

Reaching the baby, he was amazed to find it unharmed, its face protected beneath an old shawl. Snatching it from the cot, he wrapped the little infant protectively within the sacking. But the cloth was almost dry and would soon be useless. He started to run back outside when all of a sudden an almighty crack sounded. Looking up, he saw a flaming roof beam split in half.

At the last second Jack dived out of the way, rolling across the decking with the baby in his arms as the beam crashed to the ground. The infant screamed even louder as its world was turned upside-down. Jack flipped to his feet, only to discover they were now encircled by a ring of fire.

He could see the doorway tantalizingly close, but he would have to run a gauntlet of flame to reach it.

The sacking on his back, now dry as tinder, ignited and he was given no other choice. Shrugging the cloth from his shoulders, he clasped the baby to his chest and threw himself towards the only exit. Flames licked at him as he ran, his soaked kimono his last defence.

The farmhouse creaked and groaned, then caved in on itself as Jack tumbled out into the square. Coughing and spluttering, he collapsed in the snow, for once grateful for its cold embrace.

‘My baby! My baby!’ cried the mother, breaking free from her anxious husband’s grasp.

Jack handed her the screaming child. As soon as it was in her arms, the baby fell quiet, comforted by the mother’s embrace. The woman inspected her child with relief, then looked to Jack, her eyes filled with tears of gratitude.

‘Arigatō gozaimasu,’ she sobbed, bowing her head low.

The man now approached and Jack prepared himself to be run out of town once again. But the farmer dropped to his knees, throwing his arms out and placing his head to the ground in total respect.