Black Wattle Creek (Charlie Berlin #2)(45)

‘Are you okay?’ Rebecca called from the back door where she stood with Sarah perched on her hip. How did she manage that? Berlin wondered. He could barely lift her. Peter was beside them. The boy looked like he’d been crying.

Berlin went to them, reached down and ruffled Peter’s hair. ‘I’m fine. It looked worse than it was.’

Rebecca’s eyes flicked quickly to his feet and up again. Berlin looked down. The bottom of his pyjamas pants were singed and his shoe laces were gone, burned back to the eyelet holes.

Sarah was peering anxiously at the dog. ‘Pip isn’t going to die, is he Daddy?’

Berlin smiled at her. ‘No, you silly duffer, he was very brave. He woke your mummy and me up to tell us there was a fire.’

The girl reached out and ruffled Pip’s sodden fur and the dog licked her fingers. ‘You’re a good boy, Pip, you’re a hero.’ She looked at her mother. ‘Can he have sausages for breakfast? As a reward?’

‘Why don’t we all have sausages for breakfast,’ Rebecca said, ‘that’s a good idea. Come on, you two, let’s go back inside, out of the cold.’ She took Peter’s hand and said to Berlin, ‘There’s no hope of them going back to sleep after all this excitement, so I might as well make breakfast now. And you need to get out of those wet pyjamas and have a hot shower as quick as you can.’

‘As soon as I get the firemen sorted.’

She went inside but was back in less than a minute, carrying his overcoat. Getting the dressing gown off was awkward, as the dog didn’t seem to want to be out of his arms.

‘Don’t be long,’ she told him after she’d helped him swap the gown for the coat. ‘I’ve got the kettle on.’ She lowered her voice. ‘And maybe we need to have a chat about what’s going on.’ As she took the sodden dressing gown into the house she looked back over her shoulder at him. ‘And you should ask those firemen if they want a cup of tea.’

Over by the blackened remains of the darkroom one of the firemen knelt down and picked up an empty milk bottle. He sniffed it then tossed it casually back into the mud.

‘Petrol, right?’

The fireman looked up at Berlin and nodded. He stood up.

‘You got enemies?’

‘I’m a policeman.’

‘Goes without saying then.’

Pip poked his head out of Berlin’s overcoat. With his fur wet the dog looked to have shrunk to about half his normal size. The fireman looked at the dog and then at Berlin.

‘Maybe you should get yourself a German Shepherd?’

Berlin rubbed the dog’s head. ‘Pip’s okay, he had a go, that’s all you can ask. Had the bastard bailed up behind the chook shed, took a chunk out of his hand.’

The fireman reached out and scratched Pip’s nose. ‘Good for you, pup.’

‘You pass anybody on your way down the street?’

The fireman shrugged. ‘Couldn’t say, I was driving. Had my mind on counting off house numbers.’

‘Smoke and flames not enough of a target for you?’

The fireman smiled. ‘Funny bugger. Your little conflagration cost me ten quid, you know. I was holding three bloody aces when the alarm went. ’Scuse me a sec, just have to give the lads a hand.’

The other firemen had started to roll up the canvas hose and in a couple of minutes the backyard was empty.

Berlin followed them out to the front gate, where the firemen were loading the last of their gear into the big red Dennis truck. The one Berlin had spoken to was leaning against the cab, smoking.

‘Sorry about your ten quid earlier. You and your boys fancy a cup of tea?’

The fireman glanced at his watch. ‘Thank your missus anyway but we’ll be off.’ He winked. ‘A couple of the lads still have some money in their kicks and the cards have been good to me tonight.’

He dropped his cigarette butt in the dirt and ground it out with the toe of his boot. Berlin noticed two unlabelled brown bottles on the ground next to the fire engine’s front tyre. The fireman picked them up.

‘Your neighbour the Eyetie, the bloke with the garden hose, he gave us a couple of bottles of plonk. You reckon it’s any good?’

‘You’ll probably enjoy it.’

‘Sounds fair enough.’ He handed the bottles up to one of the men in the cab. ‘There’s gonna be a bit of paperwork on this, you understand. No panic, just come round to the fire station when you get a chance and we’ll get it sorted out. Maybe crack open one of those bottles, if the sun’s over the yardarm. Or maybe even if it isn’t.’ He held out his hand. ‘Name’s Derrick.’

‘Charlie. Thanks for getting here so quick.’

Derrick climbed up into the fire engine’s cab. He slammed the door shut and leaned out the window. ‘Lucky thing he went for that back shed you were building and not the front of the house, or your car.’

‘Yeah, lucky.’

‘You need any bits and bobs for that shed, I can point you to a few places that might have some stuff going. Bit of water and smoke damage but the price’d be right.’

‘Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.’

The fireman glanced across the street, then back at Berlin. ‘Respectable-looking bonfire you got building over there. Keep an eye on her when she gets going, watch the sparks. We’ll be flat out on cracker night and I wouldn’t want to have to come back here again.’