Exciting Adventure

I have been so shaken by this evening’s events that I can hardly bear to start writing about them.

I am going to write about them anyway, because the rest of the day has been remarkably dull, and before tonight’s little misadventure, these pages were on course to be about as exciting as a lecture explaining the pricing policies of British Telecom.

We have accidentally set our house on fire.

It is not on fire any more, but it has all been a bit thrilling.

I went out to work leaving Mark faffing about with the last bits of pre-work organisation. He emptied the dogs and put things in his car, and then remembered that we hadn’t checked the stove.

It was almost out, so he chucked some wood in it and opened the dampers up.

He faffed about a bit more and went out to work.

He forgot all about the fire.

It must have been fifteen minutes later when he came to sit in my car for a cup of tea on the taxi rank and remembered that he had come out to work without closing it down.

It shouldn’t have been a problem, but he felt so uneasy about it that he jumped back in his taxi and went rushing home to check.

It was a good job that he did.

When he opened the garden gate, even though the curtains were drawn across the back door, he could see the flames behind them.

He went rushing up the garden and opened the door, but the smoke was too thick to get in.

He knew that opening the doors might make the fire worse, but he had got to take the risk. The flames were already licking the ceiling.

The fireplace is very close to the back door, and it was so hot that we discovered afterwards that the curtain rails had melted. Mark tore the curtains down so that they would not catch fire, and threw both doors wide open. Then he dashed back down the back garden for the hose pipe.

He had to fight his way through the smoke to get to the kitchen and fasten the hose to the tap, and then had to feel his way back down the hose to get to the back door.

He said afterwards that the fire went out within moments of him dousing it with water.

It was the log pile which we keep next to the stove. It had been leaning against the side of the stove, and the stove had got so hot that the logs had caught fire.

There had been a big pile of dry oak, and it had begun to burn.

Mark rang me to tell me all about it.

I was miles away in Ambleside.

He had opened all of the windows because the house was full of smoke, and in the background to the call I could hear the smoke alarm beeping.

I was not worried about the fire. I was far more frightened of the fire brigade than I was of a fire.

Our local fire brigade have visited before. They did far more damage than any fire ever could. They are deeply unpleasant to encounter, and made a mess of the house that made burning it down look like an attractive possibility.

I told Mark in no account to do anything that might attract anybody’s attention. If somebody calls the fire brigade, then once they turn up then they will force an entry into your house even if it is not on fire and you tell them that you do not need them to come in. They have got the right to do this.

Last time they had walked in some dog poo in the road before they came in. It was all over every carpet. When I complained they brought in a tarpaulin and opened that to walk on. It was full of broken glass from some other event. The broken glass scattered everywhere and mingled with the dog poo which the tarpaulin had crushed into the carpets. They smashed a hole in the roof and in the chimney to see if they were on fire, which they weren’t. 

We did not want the fire brigade turning up.

Mark turned the lights off upstairs and closed the windows. Fortunately it is bonfire night, so the smell of smoke was not going to attract anybody’s attention.

By the time I had rushed home everything was fairly alright.

The hearth was full of water and there were blackened bits of wood everywhere. The curtains had been pulled down and the wall above the fireplace was scorched black. 

I do not mind the smell of woodsmoke, and everything else was all right.

The dogs came rushing out to meet me. They had been asleep under the coffee table and the smoke had not gone that low, so they were all right.

We cleaned up. The fire was completely out. Even the washing was undamaged. 

All the same it had been a bit horrible.

Mark is going to build a barrier to stop firewood from touching against the sides of the stove, and we are going to repaint the chimney  walls above the fireplace.

We went back to work.

Later on at work the exhaust fell off my taxi. We were so relieved about the fire that we did not think the exhaust mattered in the least, and Mark chucked it in the boot and said we would sort it out next week.

I am very relieved indeed. It is a good job that he went home to have a look otherwise we would not have a house by now.

Life is full of these small blessings.

Have a picture of the not-dead dogs.