Saved By The Firefighter
Chapter 121

Anders Point of View.

The sound of the kids all playing at the back of the room, echoes in my ears. My stress levels are through the roof, as I continue to pace the floor, unable to sit still. The weight of the engagement ring sits heavy in my pocket, a reminder of how just a few hours ago I had been so happy, not a care in the world, planning a romantic night when I could ask the girl who is the other half of me to be my wife. But, without warning, my happy bubble was burst, the life I had planned for us laid in ruins at my feet. I contemplated life without my Josie in it. My thoughts turn dark. If she does not make it out of there alive, then I do not know how I will continue to live. I force those thoughts that are consuming my mind to the back of my head. I cannot give in to them. All I can do is wait, to see if she makes it out of this fire in one piece.

Anger is bubbling inside of me, a symptom of the stress I am under. I am mad as hell that someone made the choice to put my girl back in that building. Angry at the f*****g arsonist, if I ever get my hands on that bastard I will do them some damage, and not give a rats' a*s about the consequences. Anger that just when my life felt like it was perfect, fate turns up and laughs in my face once more.

People think I live a charmed life, with so much business success under my belt, but hell, I have had a s**t time of it. My childhood was horrific, I had to claw myself out of the literal gutter to get where I am today. I thought that my achievements had defined me, but I was oh so wrong. The thing that defines me is Josie. I would give up every last bit of my wealth and success, returning to utter poverty, without blinking an eye, if it means I get to hold her in my arms again. If I get to ask her the question that has been burning in my heart, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt there is no one else on this earth who I can love as much as her.

I glance over at Lucy. I am angry at myself, as I do not know what I can do to offer her comfort, or give her some relief. The girl is pregnant, with complications, and she is going through this living hell, barely able to function properly. I should be more of a man, do more to help. But I know all too well, there is nothing I can do that will stop the fear, the worry, and the utter heartache we are all going through right now.

It is all I can do to keep breathing, my heart pounding in my chest, as I continue my never-ending pacing.

"How long will they be in there?" I turn, asking Joanne; she has more knowledge than the rest of us sitting here. I am not sure if that is a good or a bad thing for the woman.

"It depends on which oxygen tanks they have. If they have one-hour ones, then they should start coming out in around 25 to 30 minutes. Earlier if it is the 45-minute tank." She tells me.

"I wish I could do something." Kathline sighs, as she sits by the kids, allegedly playing with them, but in reality, she is going through the motions, her eyes never leaving the TV screen for more than a minute at a time.

"Why don't we get the kids bathed and put to bed? "Lucy suddenly announces, pulling the blanket Joanne placed over her from her body and standing up on shaky legs.

"Good idea, yes, we can do that." Kathline replies, jumping at the chance to keep herself busy.

Joanne's mobile pings, Lucy jumps slightly, looking at her baby's grandmother, Kathline stills, a toy she was passing to Dante in her hand, and looks over, and I halt my pacing, holding my breath.

"It's Twinkle's Mrs. She is not coming, she has people visiting, and things to do." Joanne tells us.

"Cannot say I am not relieved; I hate the woman." She adds with a shrug.

"After what Twinkle said the other night, it makes you wonder who the people visiting are." Lucy sighs out, shaking her head.

"If that b***h is shagging some bozo whilst our guys are in that building, I will rip her a new arsehole." Joanne growls out.

Clearly, her own stress is turning to anger, just as mine has.

"Has anyone told Liv?" Lucy asks, wondering about Davey's sister.

"I haven't, I didn't even think about her. I am a bad girlfriend." Kathline exclaims, and she instantly loses her fight with the tears she has obviously been holding back.

"Look, let's just get the kids sorted, then you can ring her. I cannot sit around here waiting for another thirty minutes." Lucy tells her, and I can sense a newfound strength in her voice, and it makes me glad. "I will put the kettle back on." Joanne tells the room, as they all disappear, leaving me to my thoughts.

I sit back down on the sofa, running my hands through my hair. As I watch the TV, desperate for them to finish this segment on other news that is happening around the UK and get back to the live feed at the fire. They begin to talk about some puff-piece, about a new film that is due to be released. Apparently, they are doing a premiere in Newcastle, and the lead actor will be visiting the city. I mean, who cares? NO FUCKER! Finally, the smiling news anchor hands back to Kate their onsite reporter, and once more we are back, live, at the fire.

"There is no change here at the moment. Huge. Fire crews are still inside the building attempting to replace the final two missing people. I have heard a rumour that if this crew comes out empty handed, they are not going to send more people inside, as the chances of anyone surviving this blaze are now at less than 2 percent. The fire is just too unstable to risk any more lives. But I must stress that information is not yet confirmed." The reporter tells the smiling anchor. Who's face I seriously want to punch! Just what the hell does he think there is to f*****g well smile about?

"Sorry to cut you off Kate, but we have a press conference from outside City Hall in Sunderland with the Northumbria chief constable, and the head of the Northeast Fire brigade." The f*****g smiling wanker tells her.

The image changes as they cut to the outside of City Hall, as the chief copper taps slightly on the microphone, then clears his throat.

"At approximately 3pm today, fire fighters were called to the Batrick factory, on the A1290 in Sunderland. We have reason to believe that the fire was deliberately started and that the person or people responsible remained at the scene, creating two more trails of fire after the first initial destination. The first of those extra detinations was successful, lighting up the east side of the factory; the second was halted before it reached the building. We ask the public if they have heard or seen anything suspicious around the factory over the past few days. They get in touch with our hotline. It doesn't matter how insignificant it is, please let us know."

Lights are flashing all over the TV as reporters take their pictures, and I look at the number on the screen. A fresh wave of anger pulses through my veins. They have confirmed what we all thought, it was the f*****g arsonist. f**k, who ever it is was wanting to cause as much death and destruction as humanly possible. My blood chills, even if my girl gets out of that blaze, who knows how long before she has to return to one, even bigger, unless they catch this fucker, and soon.

"Chief Constable, Jon Thompson with the BBC here. We know that a number of people have been rescued from the building. Can you confirm if they are okay?" he asks.

"I can confirm that eleven people have been found. However, I will need to refer you to my colleagues at Sunderland Royal Hospital for an update on their condition." He said, before turning towards another reporter and nodding his head.

"Is it true that the fire brigade is refusing to send any more firefighters into the building once this latest rescue squad comes out of the factory?" The reporter asked.

I have my fingers and toe's crossed that this bozo tells me, that once Josie is out of there she doesn't have to go back inside.

"I will let my colleague from the fire brigade answer that question." The chief copper tells him.

The head honcho of the fire department steps forward.

"Given the intensity of the blaze, and the threat of the batteries and cells in the building exploding, we can confirm that after this final sweep for victims is completed that we will not send in another rescue crew." He tells them.

"Get In!" I shout, fist pumping the air. All I need now is my girl to get out of that building in one piece and hightail her sexy arse back here, so I can hug the life out of her.

"What's happening, are they out?" Lucy shouts from upstairs.

A wave of guilt washes over me. f**k, my reaction to the news that they would not have to go back there had given Lucy false hope.

"No, sorry Lucy, just the head guy at the brigade said, once they are out, they will not have to go back inside." I shout up the stairs.

"Oh, okay." She shouts back, and I can hear the utter disappointment in her voice. I am a f*****g ****t!

I continue to listen, as they waffle on about missing people, and giving a number to call.

I glance up at the clock. Hell, these minutes feel like days, only ten minutes have passed since Joanne told me that they would not start coming out for twenty-five to thirty minutes. I mutter to myself, that I want them to get back to the fire live feed, so I can watch for my girl and her brothers getting out of that place.

f**k me, I am not a prayer, but right now, all I can do is shout to the heavens about, to a God I am not sure I believe in, to f*****g get her out of there.

Lucy, Joanne and Kathline arrive back downstairs. That was the quickest kids bath time known to man.

"They are all in bed. I put a film on for them to watch." Lucy tells me.

As much as I like the little ones, I cannot say I am not relieved. My nerves are in shreds and their constant chatter was making things worse.

"They should fall straight to sleep, it has been a long day." Kathline tells the room with a sigh, before sitting on the sofa, and letting the tears she has held inside flow.

Lucy sits beside me, her hand on her stomach.

"How are you doing?" she softly asks.

"Like s**t. What about you?" I turn and ask her.

"Like shit." She responds, forcing a small smile.

I look around the room, to replace each of the ladies sitting in various positions, but all of them are mouthing what I presume are silent prayers, and I cannot help but agree with them, we all need a f*****g miracle, and quickly.