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entry 60 - 1st March 02
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fire I had a rude awakening this morning, to say the
least. I was dreaming I was in this tumbledown cottage with tidal waves coming at it, when suddenly there were gunshots going off around me. These gunshots became more rapid and vivid until I realised I was awake and someone was hammering like god almighty on my front door (which is right next to my pillow). Then I noticed the distant high pitched whooping. It was the entrance hall fire alarm. Whoop, whoop, whoop...
Then my own fire alarm joined in the fun. Screee, screee, screee... "Wake up, wake up, wake up." It was Horsey's voice. "I'm awake," I yelped, swinging out of bed and into a pair of shorts. I opened the door and Horsey dashed in, followed by a thick cloud of smoke. She slammed the door shut and, coughing, asked if we could get onto the roof through any of my windows. The bathroom window was the only one I could think of: it was small, but possible. Once out on the window ledge, though, there was going to be a tricky five foot sideways jump onto a drainpipe, which might or might not hold. We studied it. The devil and the deep blue sea. Then there was a loud banging on my front window. Horsey and I sprinted into the lounge, acknowledged the fully garbed fireman, slid the window up, clambered out, and followed him down the ladder. This was all at 5.30 am. It's lunchtime now and I'm back in my flat. The police have been round, interviewing everyone, but I didn't mention Tim-tom. I could have done, but I thought it might create more problems than it solved. Besides, I'm going to solve the problem myself soon. And anyway, the police seemed pretty certain the blaze was down to the old Chinese woman in the bottom flat. She collects newspapers for some reason. She gets them from public bins and takes them home. I told the copper that she also collected potatoes. "Potatoes?" he said. He actually wrote
it in his notepad. He never even asked my name.
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Bang
bang bang smash bang bang bang on my door...
