Sister's Trio Squad

Chapter 54

Chapter 54

'Are you sure you don't want me to put that washing in to soak before I go, Mrs Vannin? I don't mind." No, you get off, Vi. You must be tired. I'll do it. Ellen can put her books away soon, too. She's got all week to finish her homework and she's been looking a

little peaky lately.' 'Aye, she's growing up fast is Miss Ellen, if my meaning!' you follow

'Good Heavens, Vi! I never gave that a thought. I suppose I'll have to tell her about all that soon!' Vi pulled a face. 'Oh, the "curse of womankind"!"

'Sometimes it is a "curse" but really it's a blessing, I suppose. Without it we'd have no children, would we?'

'I've never found anyone who can find some good in absolutely everything like you do, Mrs Vannin.'

Margaret smiled. 'If you look hard enough you can, Vi. Now who on earth can that be?' She turned, startled. Someone was hammering on the front door and she could hear muffled shouts.

She got into the hall just as Lewis opened the door. One of the men from the yard stood there, panting, his face red, the sweat standing out on his forehead.

'My God! Davies! What's the matter?' "The yard, Mr Vannin! Stables are on fire! Raised

the alarm, then came straight here! Ran all the way! he gasped. Lewis snatched his jacket from the hallstand. 'Is anyone down there?"

'Only the lad. I told him to get the horses out.' As they both ran out of the house, Margaret turned and clutched Vi's arm. 'Vi, stay here with Ellen and Jamie, please!'

'Mrs Vannin, you're not going down there?' Vi cried.

'I've got to! I've got to see if there's anything I can do.

Just stay, Vi, will you?'

She didn't even bother to get a coat or jacket, but ran down the steps following Lewis and Davies, who had already turned the corner. When she reached the bottom of the street Margaret stopped momentarily. The glow of the flames illuminated the sky and she could smell the smoke on the night air. A fire engine hurtled past her, its bell clanging frantically, the men clinging on for dear life, still buttoning on their jackets. She broke into a run, trying to hurry her steps, but her breath was coming in short, stabbing gasps. Then she realized someone was running beside her and she looked down. It was Ellen. Her pale face strained, her hair loose and streaming out behind her.

'Go home! Go back, Ellen!' 'No, Ma! I'm coming with you!'

'Ellen, go home! Go back!' she screamed, but the child ran ahead of her and darted across the road. Fear gave her strength and quickened her steps. God alone knew what she was running into!

There was a large crowd on the corner of Parkinson Road and two fire engines were parked on the pavement. Margaret pushed her way through until a policeman stopped her. Dimly, through the smoke and flames, she

could see figures. You can't go any nearer, luv. It's too dangerous.' I'm Mrs Vannin, my husband is in there. Has a child

run in? A young girl with long brown hair?" 'No, Ma'am, not to my knowledge.'

She turned and the crowd seemed to converge upon her. She was frantic and began to lash out wildly. 'Ellen! Ellen, where are you?" she screamed. There was no answer, no reassuring cry from Ellen. She plunged forward, shaking off the policeman's grip on her shoulder, hearing him shout behind her.

The heat hit her and after a few steps she was choking and half-blinded by the smoke, but she staggered on, trying to call to them both until the smoke burned her throat and silenced her. Dragging up her skirt, she tore a strip from her petticoat and pressed it over her nose and mouth. She could see very little but the rushing and roaring in her ears became louder and she knew she must be getting near the heart of the fire. As she turned her head slightly she caught a glimpse of a pale, terrified face. Ellen! She raised her free arm to try to shield her face from the intense heat as she relentlessly drove herself forward.

All around her, like shadows, figures darted in and out of the smoke and flames and the air was punctuated with the shouts of the fire-fighters and the terrified, high-pitched cries of the maddened horses. Again, silhouetted against the orange glow, she saw the small, thin figure. She looked upwards and lurched forward, a scream forced from her burning throat and hanging for an instant above the cacophony.

In that instant Ellen turned, the fear that had paralyzed her dispelled by the sound of Margaret's voice. All she could see was a shadowy figure and then she was knocked sideways, all the horrors that surrounded her were blotted out as Margaret threw herself bodily over the child and they both fell to the ground. The blazing beam missed them both by a few inches, sending a shower of sparks shooting into the air as it hit the ground.

Margaret got to her feet pulling Ellen with her. She must try to think clearly! Where was she? How near to the stables? How far from the gates? Clutching Ellen closely, pressing the child's head against her chest to protect her face from the smoke and heat, she stumbled towards where she hoped the gate was. Suddenly she tripped and they both fell to their knees, but then hands were pulling her upwards and she realized it was the coils of the fire hoses she had fallen over. She shoved Ellen unceremoniously into the arms of a fireman and, before he could stop her, Margaret had turned and plunged back into the inferno. Somewhere in there was Lewis. She had to find him.

Her eyes were smarting and watering so much that she could hardly see at all and her strength was failing. But she had to go on. She had to find him. Over the sheer pandemonium she heard the sound. The pounding of a gigantic hammer against an anvil, only much faster and more erratic and she knew she was near the stable block. The battering she could hear must be Lewis, desperately trying to force back bolts twisted by the heat and flames. The screams of terror almost human in their intensity - echoed in her head. The charred panels of the heavy wooden door were splintering but she still couldn't see him. She tried to call him but the smoke defeated her. She groped blindly around her feet until her fingers closed on a thick wooden spar. If she could somehow beat back the bolt... she wouldn't think how ineffectual the attempt would be, nor that, if the bolt sheared, the crazed animal would trample her in its flight. She just couldn't stand by and let it be burnt to death!

She raised the spar and brought it down as hard as she could against the bolt, trying to knock it sideways. The effort caused a sharp pain in her chest, but she swung the spar upwards again, bringing it down in a wide arc. Had it moved or was it just her imaNancytion? She struggled to raise it again but with a strangled scream she flung herself back against the wall as with an ear-splitting crash the heavy door fell outwards and downwards. An enor mous black shape, eyes rolling white with terror, huge, white-feathered hooves thundering, black mane on fire, bore down on her. She threw up her arms in an attempt to protect herself and pressed herself closer to the wall. The horse passed so close that she felt the heat from its foam-flecked body and caught the odour of burning horsehair. Then a strong arm was around her waist, lifting her bodily off her feet and in the glare she saw the glint of the fireman's helmet. Exhausted though she was she tried to struggle, feebly battering her fists against his chest. 'My husband! My husband! Let me go! My husband's

in there!'

'He's out, Mrs Vannin! He's out!' She sagged against him like a rag doll.

'He helped my mate drag one of the wagons out and the last I saw of him, he was trying to hang on to the poor beast you got out. You could have been killed - the animal could have trampled you to death. If we don't get out now we'll both be blown sky high! There are drums of petrol for the lorry stored somewhere in here. They've sent for engines from Aintree and Anfield! Let's get you out of here."

He half carried her to the gate and as Ellen saw the two figures she broke free of the police cordon that was trying to keep back the crowd that had rapidly swelled. Tears of relief poured down her face.

'Oh, Ma! Ma! We thought you'd gone!' she sobbed. Margaret held her tightly, tears creeping down her

own cheeks and then Lewis was beside them both. 'Margaret! Oh, you little fool! You could have been killed. Why did you do it?'

She fell into his arms, sobbing incoherently as he patted her shoulder. His hair and eyebrows were singed, his face

blackened, his eyes red and burning from the smoke. 'Hush now, it's all right! I'm safe and it's under control, there are more engines on the way. You go home now, I'll come when I'm sure everything is . . .' He couldn't go on. Everything he'd worked for had gone up with the yard. His buildings were gutted. His two motorized lorries were burnt-out shells, most of his wagons were damaged and out of the ten horses he'd had, four of them had been roasted alive in their stables.

'Lewis, I couldn't stop her! I couldn't catch her, she was too quick for me. She knew you were in there." Ellen clung to her father. 'She saved me, Pa! A beam

fell down and if Ma hadn't been there...

'Oh, Margaret!'

I'd get them both home now, Sir,' the fireman broke in. 'They've both been through it and are pretty shaken up. Mrs Vannin managed to loosen the stable bolt. She got the last horse out, but she could have been killed by it. Get them home, Sir, we'll finish up here. You look done in yourself.'

Lewis nodded and bowed his head. Clasping his wife with one arm and his daughter with the other, he pushed forward as the police moved the bystanders aside. 'We're all going home, Officer. Was a man eve having such a wife and such a daughter?' so fortunate in

The Officer nodded. "There's not a lot you can do here, Sir. We'll stay and secure the place, arrange for the horses to be stabled and get the .. carcasses removed.'

As they reached the corner of Walton Park, a massive

explosion shook the whole street and a sheet of flame shot high into the air. Ellen began to shake and Margaret clutched Lewis's shoulder. He stared backwards. The petrol. They said it would go up. Well, it's all gone now. Let's go home.'

Vi was waiting on the doorstep and when she saw them she gave a cry and ran inside to put the kettle on. Despite the state of their clothes, Lewis led them into the parlour and they all sank on to the sofa.

'It's gone, Margaret. Everything I've worked for!' 'It doesn't matter, Lewis. You have your life. You still have your property."