emergencies

Silly Sunday Serial – SOS

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 18 Comments

This is the fourth and final part of Flora and Jim’s story, you can see yesterday’s part here.

https://tidalscribe.com/2025/10/18/silly-saturday-serial-singing-in-the-rain/

Clarissa was having a wonderful evening. At last, as a volunteer with Seven Valley Community Support, she was getting to do something exciting and useful. With power lines down, the community centre was lit with candles and battery torches. Computers were down and all they had were clipboards and pen and paper. Clarissa was in charge of the list, or registering unhoused arrivals as she put it. Her excitement grew when a young policeman pushed his way through the throng.

‘Has anybody been reported missing yet?’

‘No, all accounted for.’

‘Not so apparently, the station got a frantic call from a mother who said she had not heard from her daughter and she is not answering her mobile. She just moved into that cottage by the river, umm Little Nile?’

‘Oh goodness, surely no one is living there after what happened last year? The name?’

‘Whose name?’

‘The daughter.’

‘Oh yes, of course. Flora Dora.’

‘Are you sure? Obviously not from around here then. Anyone else living there?’

‘Her boyfriend, Jim James.’

Clarissa clapped her hands to gain attention, unsuccessfully. The police officer moved in front of her, glad of the chance to assert his authority and put on his crowd control voice.

‘Urgent, we need to know if we have a Flora Dora and a Jim James here.’

There was no response.

‘They just moved into Little Nile cottage.’

There was a collective gasp and urgent mutterings.

‘They’ll be gonners by now.’

‘Yup, cottage submerged completely.’

‘Even if they got out the river will have taken them.’

The policeman moved among them trying to get any useful information.

‘They would have heard the alerts and the red warnings.’

‘Not unless they have registered for Seven Flood Alert or got the app.’

‘Slim chance they might have made it up to the road, but that’s blocked off.’

‘The army,’ called Clarissa ‘my nephew’s out there on a training exercise with the Ukrainians.’

‘Training them?’

‘No, the Ukrainians are training our lot, they can drive tanks in the most awful conditions.’

Flora and Jim had started walking along the road, best case scenario they would meet a vehicle. Worst case scenario they would have to keep walking till they came to a house or the town. Neither of them mentioned the actual Worst Case Scenario, not that they could hear a word they said to each other, nor could they read each other’s expressions. All they could hear or see was the relentless rain. Perhaps it was fortunate they had to keep their thoughts to themselves, cosy memories of their parents’ boring little suburban houses…

It was so dark now, no street lights, not even any distant lights. There was no distance so they did not see the solid darkness looming out of the general darkness and barely heard the shouts. When they were blinded by a bright beam they had no chance of seeing anything.

‘Are you lost?’

‘Of course they’re lost corporal, not out for an evening stroll and get that torch out of their eyes.’

‘Soldiers’ stammered Flora through chartering teeth ‘are we on the firing range?’

‘No, but you must have a death wish, didn’t you heed the warnings? Names?’

They tried to say their names, but their frozen mouths did not seem to work. The soldiers got close and yelled ‘Are you Flora Dora and Jim James?’

They nodded vigorously.

‘The whole of the British army is out looking for you and half the Ukrainian army to boot.’

At the community centre Clarissa took charge of the new arrivals, she was not going to be upstaged.

‘Priority registration, have they got any rooms left at Premiere Inn, how’s the hot food coming along, we need two survivor kits over here right now, one men’s one ladie’s.’

She felt just like the United Nations or Medecine Sans Frontieres, though the survivor packs merely contained donated second hand clothes.

Flora and Jim soon became celebrities.

‘A good way to get to know the locals’ laughed Flora, almost restored to her normal self with hot chocolate.

‘And a free night at Premiere Inn hopefully’ added Jim.

‘Well your cottage will still be there, it’s withstood centuries of floods, though they are getting worse.’

‘Yup, it should be dried out by next August‘ added another local.

THE END

You can read the complete story tomorrow.

Tuesday Tiny Tale – A Lucky Escape

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Delia had read all the articles and listened to all the broadcasts and podcasts on sleep and health. She had been encouraged to get a Fitbit by her niece who was keen that she should find out her resting heart rate.  The Fitbit alas, did not help her sleep more, only confirm that she did not sleep much. However, she persevered with following all the recommendations for winding down in the evening.

That night Delia had turned off the news and switched her television to the radio station broadcasting her regular late night music programmes, Night Waves and Round Midnight… Then she headed upstairs and was in bed and tuned to Radio 4 in time to be lulled by Sailing By heralding the late night Shipping Forecast.  Delia pictured seaside places she had stayed and remote coasts she was never likely to see…

North Foreland to Selsey Bill – Strong wind warning

Ardnamurchan Point to Cape Wrath…

Tonight the mellifluous Scottish baritone of her favourite continuity announcer finished the forecast and bade her goodnight with his usual soothing words.

‘And that is the close of Radio Four’s broadcasting tonight. This is Alexander MacSmooth wishing you a safe and peaceful night.

Delia sleepily turned her radio off before the National Anthem could jar her serenity. She snuggled under the duvet, safe from the strong winds and waves pounding the coast…

Delia woke suddenly. It was dark, the radio clock showed 3.15 am, not unusual for her to be awake in the witching hour, but who on earth was frantically ringing her doorbell and what were those blue lights flashing on the ceiling? And who was yelling through a loudspeaker?

‘Emergency, this is the police, you must evacuate immediately. Leave your home now, do not stop to collect belongings.’

It was bizarre, but the only way to find out what was going on was to get wrapped into her velour dressing gown and head for the front door. When she looked outside she was stunned. The nearby streetlight revealed a huge hole where the road had been. Her first thought was ‘Bin Day’ how would she get her recycling bin out of that hole, how would the rubbish truck get down the road when there was no road. Before she could have another thought the street lamp plunged into the crater and the scene was plunged into darkness.  A yellow arm grabbed her, at the end of another yellow arm was a powerful torch revealing a crack widening beneath their feet.

In a church hall a mile away Delia and her neighbours gathered round ‘next-door-but-one’ who had managed to grab his iPad on the way out. The live news showed next door’s car slipping into the sink hole and Delia’s front wall crumbling. She didn’t even recognise half her neighbours without their clothes on. They all reintroduced themselves and compared stories as it dawned on them that they would not be going home any time soon, if ever. The only possession Delia had with her was the Fitbit. She wondered what her resting heart rate was.

Tuesday Tiny Tale – Big Wheel

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‘Have you found a job yet Joel? You’re not going to lounge around this house till university starts.’

‘Nothing wrong with winding down and actually I am going for a job interview this afternoon down at the sea front.’

‘Good… lifesaver, beach warden or are you going to serve at that new Sandbourne Seafront Diner?’

‘Nope, going on the big wheel.’

‘But you hate heights!’

‘I don’t have to go on it, just sit in the box taking the money.’

‘Was that the best job you could find?’

‘Yup.’

Joel was successful at the job interview, especially as no one else had applied and he was enjoying his first day. He soon discovered he had a good way with the customers, or passengers as they were supposed to call them. Kev was impressed with the steady flow of people lining up to be inserted safely by him into the Flying Pods. Joel had a reassuring manner.

You tell your Gran there’s nothing to be scared of, all the grannies go up and love the view out to sea.

No, your Dad was kidding when he said you have to climb up that high ladder to get on. You just have to wait for an empty  pod to come round to the platform.

Of course it is safe, did you ever hear of a big wheel toppling over?

I assure you it never gets stuck, it’s never come to a halt all the time I’ve been working here.

The morning went quickly, but then Joel noticed his orderly queue had come to a halt and a small crowd was gathering and looking up. At that moment Kev came rushing to Joel’s box.

‘Don’t sell any more tickets just now, bit of a hold up.’

‘All the pods full?’

‘Yes unfortunately, the wheel’s stuck.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Stuck as in won’t go round.’

Joel thought of the nervous aunties and scared little kids he had urged on board, knowing he would never go in a pod himself.

‘So what happens next?’

‘Axel sorts it out.’

‘Where is he then?’

‘Away on a safety course in Wales.’

‘Do you know what to do?’

‘No, I only do the buttons on the ground, I’m not allowed up the ladder as I get vertigo.’

Joel thought of his science A levels and the mechanical engineering course awaiting him at Cambridge University, somehow that did not seem as if it would help this situation.

‘So we call the fire brigade then.’

‘NO… boss would kill us, we don’t want to lose our licence.’

‘Where is the boss?’

‘Goodness knows, I think he was on a bender last night. Anyway, I think I remember what Axel does, he takes a heavy spanner to the top of the wheel, it’s always at the top that a pod gets jammed. Axel is very set on safety, so you must clip the safety harness on to each rung as you go up.’

‘I can’t go up!’

 ‘Well there’s no one else.’

‘I thought Joel would have been home by now… what did you say John… local news… hang on I’m coming… Oh goodness, Coastguard helicopter hovering over the wheel and all those fire engines and it looks like someone’s stuck on the outside. Good thing our Joel only works in the ticket box. He’ll be sorry to have missed all that excitement if he was already on his way home.’

Tuesday Tale – Mistake

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The day got off to a bad start when I put the remote control in my bag instead of my phone.

As John was away on his business trip to Taiwan I was taking the car to work. Oliver rushed out the door saying ‘Bye Mum, don’t forget we’re all going round Roache’s tonight and I’m staying over ready for the match tomorrow.’

I had forgotten and had no idea who Roach was or where he lived. Since we moved to the new house Oliver spent even less time at home and frequently reminded us he had not wanted to move. But as John said, Oliver would be off to uni. next year and we couldn’t miss the opportunity to move to a place that was perfect for us, with room for John to work from home. The new estate was a good few stations further out from our old house and the town, but Oliver could get to school and me to work on the train.

I looked forward to a peaceful Friday evening. I could get a big shop on the way home as I had the car, a bottle of wine perhaps and Piza delivered.

I didn’t notice my mistake till I was in the office and went to check if John had left a message. The others thought it hilarious when I brandished the remote control.

‘Well it’s either the menopause or the stress of moving that’s done my brain in.’ I joined in their laughter.

I was always complaining Oliver never put his phone down for five minutes, so I was sure I could cope without my phone for one day.

At lunchtime I started to realise the implications of my mistake. How would I pay for lunch in the canteen? In my phone case was my bank card, but half the time I didn’t use that, I paid for things with my phone. ‘No one carries a purse around these days Mother’ Oliver had said frequently. Annie offered to pay. If I had known what lay ahead I would have had a good hot meal instead of a sandwich. Shopping was off my agenda, but I didn’t need anything urgently and why waste my precious evening going round the busy supermarket.

I drove home in a good mood, no waiting on a chilly platform for a train that might not come because of strikes or yet another landslide with all this rain we had been having. The sat nav came in handy because now it was dark I was not so sure I knew the way to our new house. Finally I was on the dark road by the common, home was not far and I would be glad to spot the street lights of the estate. But what I spotted were blue flashing lights, red flashing lights, yellow lights… what was going on? A yellow jacket flagged me down and I noticed barriers across the road.  I was not sure who or what the yellow jacket was. A woman’s voice spoke.

‘Good evening Madam, police, I’m afraid we have set road blocks up, there has been an incident, or rather there is an ongoing incident, or I should say we are preparing for a major incident.’

‘What do you mean, it’s so quiet here. Which way shall I go, I have to get home.’

‘I’m afraid several roads are in lockdown, are you a local?’

‘Oakdene Avenue.’

‘I am sorry, but Oakdene Avenue is at the centre of the incident.’

‘What sort of incident?’

‘I’m afraid I can’t disclose that.’

‘But what am I supposed to do, my husband’s in Taiwan.’

‘The other residents popped to friends’ or to the Harvester I think. Are you in the Oakdene Neighbourhood Whatsap group?’

‘No, we just moved in, I don’t know anybody.’

‘Give me your phone number and I will add your name, then you will get update messages and we can let you know if we have to arrange overnight accommodation for residents.’

‘I left my phone at home…’

Before I could say any more another car pulled up behind me and she left to give them the bad news.

On the pavement I saw a poor old lady standing alone. More to comfort myself than her I got out and went over.

‘I just got off the bus, oh dear, do you know what’s going on?’

‘No idea, we just moved into Oakdene Avenue and my husband’s in Taiwan and my son’s gone round to Roache’s house and I left my phone at home…’

‘Never mind, you can borrow my phone and call your son, or a friend.’

That’s when I realised I knew no one’s numbers, family or friends. Numbers stored in my phone, just tap the name you wanted to call…

‘I suppose you don’t remember the numbers, modern technology’ she chuckled ‘never mind dear, why don’t I call our local taxi company for you, they are very good.’

Where would I go, even if I had any means to pay the driver I had no idea where Roach lived. I heard a car draw up.

‘Oh here’s my lift, lucky I had my phone, I called my brother. My sister-in-law will have a good hot dinner waiting.’

And there she was gone. More emergency vehicles kept arriving, but I couldn’t see my police officer. I got back in the car to warm up and scrabbled around in the glove box for the car park purse. There should be enough change to buy a cup of coffee, perhaps even some chips in the café at that Tesco superstore a few miles back up the road. I could sit in the warm, restore my equilibrium then drive back to see if it was all clear. There should be plenty of change, we always paid for car parks with our phone these days…  I couldn’t find the purse. I recalled John tidying up the car ‘Don’t know why we still keep this old purse in here.’

Plan, plan, think of a plan. The logical thing would be to drive back to where we used to live, though it was a good distance and not an easy drive in the dark. Who would I call on? Cassandra and Dan were in Australia. Other friends, a bit embarrassing as I had failed to send any Christmas cards in the madness of moving and hadn’t even sent any text messages. Nobody wants to be disturbed on a dark winter’s night when they are all cosy at home. What on earth would I say, the whole situation sounded ridiculous. On this dark cold lonely night I wondered how many real friends I had back in the old neighbourhood. Probably only Cassandra. There was only one way to find out who was in and who might offer a welcome.

I started the engine and various warning lights started flashing. I recalled John’s parting words ‘I’ll miss you Darling, oh by the way, the tank’s nearly on empty so make sure you fill her up when you leave in the morning.’

Nimis Excitatus Imagination

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Are you suffering from the above medical condition?

 See how you score on this test to find out.

1 You visit Specsavers for an eye test and after subjecting your eyeballs to blasts of air, laser beams and snapshots of your retina, the optician says he will take you back downstairs where a staff member will hep you select new frames. He offers to go down the stairs first as your eyes are not back to normal yet. DO YOU SAY

A Thanks

B Oohh… has anyone fallen down the stairs?

C ( to yourself ) Ah ha, flash fiction idea ‘Derek could never have imagined that his first day as an optician would end in the death of one of his customers…

2 You are popping round the corner to the shops. Do you

A Toss your door keys in your pocket and grab your phone to pay with.

B Pack your backpack with the following – water bottle, face mask, full set of door keys, purse with cash in case all the computers are down at the shops, credit and debit cards in case you have to book a hotel overnight ( see comments further on ) … notepad and pen, emergency chocolate rations, Kindle or paperback, smart phone. The latter four items so you will be prepared in case you return to find your road in lockdown, because a mad gunman is holding your neighbour hostage or a gas explosion / helicopter crash has left the whole street flattened.

C Take your back pack as above and stand in the queue at the till ‘writing’ your next novel. ‘Glenda could never have imagined that a quick trip to the shops could turn into a five day siege that would change her life for ever.’

3 You receive a text message from a loved one. Be a bit late, stuck on M25 in dreadful weather. Do you reply

A Okay, I’ll hold back on dinner.

B Oh NO… Keep me updated, but don’t use your phone while you’re driving and stop at the services and wait till the weather’s cleared, but let me know what’s happening. Have U got enough food with U?

C Feel you body fill with dread and picture the news headlines Bank Holiday Motorway horror as family all killed in massive pile up.

4 A police officer / fireman rings your doorbell and simultaneously bangs on your front door. When you open the door he says. ‘No need to panic, but we are evacuating the whole street, NOW. Do you say

A Okay, just a false alarm no doubt, some nervous neighbour thinks they can smell gas ha ha?

B Oh my God, what about the dog, have I got time to grab my handbag…

C Feel a mixture of fear and elation. At last you are participating in real life, some drama to blog about, inspiration for that novel you are trying to start…

Now add up your score. 1 point for answer A. 3 points for answer B and 5 points for answer C.

If you scored 4 you are totally laid back and never suffer from stress.

8-12 points – well done for being prepared and sensible, but be careful not to become obsessed and over anxious.

16-20 points – you are suffering from Nimis Excitatus Imagination or in lay terms, an overactive imagination. There is no cure and it could lead to total insanity or becoming a best selling author.

Sunday Short Story – Sending Out An SOS

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Nicholas felt like Winnie the Pooh after eating a whole jar of honey…though he was not stuck in Rabbit’s burrow, but in the window of the end cubicle of the Gent’s toilet. In one of his chaplit rom com novels this had always been an excellent way to escape embarrassing or dangerous situations. Now Nicholas had created his own dramatic scene.


His big mistake had been to keep one arm behind for manoeuvring, now this arm was firmly wedged between his stomach and the window frame. Nicholas looked down at the deserted alley below, at least no one could see his predicament.

The muted sound of music and lively chatter floated down the corridor to the hotel cloakrooms. Hopefully everyone’s attention was still focussed on the late arrival of the real Nigel Palmer at the Clacket Lane Junior School reunion. How long before they noticed that Nicholas the imposter Nigel Palmer had slipped out of the function room? The tough looking real Nigel with his beard, biceps and bionic legs was unlikely to have ended up in such a humiliating situation.

How long before someone sauntered into the Gents so Nicholas could yell for help, or preferably keep quiet. As he tried to stretch his outside arm he realised he could reach into his top pocket for his phone. Maybe the emergency services would rescue him before his old classmates found him; he would not tell them he was in trouble, he would report as an anonymous passerby.


There was shock for the Clacket Lane party as flashing lights and sirens were followed by all three emergency services bursting into the function room. It was a quiet night in the town and they were all glad to respond to confused 999 calls that could be a suicide, burglary or major terrorist incident.

Nigel’s plan worked, he was being rescued, or at least there was talk of equipment being fetched by the voices he could hear behind him. In the alleyway an ambulance lady tried to reassure him, while a police officer asked how many terrorists were in the hotel. He would have been further reassured if he could have seen his former class mates lying on the floor being checked for weapons.

All except Caroline Hepworth who had managed to slip away, determined to see who was ruining her well organised evening. When she heard someone say ’in the alleyway Sarge’ she crept out, one of the advantages of being a woman of a certain age, one was always invisible. Peering in the darkness she could see two figures in yellow jackets talking to a head sticking out of a window, when a torch beam moved she caught a glimpse of a face. Wedged in the window was the man who had been Nigel Palmer all evening until the appearance of the more exciting real Nigel Palmer.

‘Don’t let him go,’ she bellowed ‘he’s an imposter.’

‘Not much chance, he’s stuck fast.’

‘Oh dear, is it serious, I mean he might be real and the other chap an imposter.’

No Sweet Home

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 17 Comments

On BBC Radio at the weekend they talked on the phone to a family who have taken in a young Ukrainian man. They sounded like one of those larger than life families who are so fascinating to we lesser mortals. The parents are both vicars ( one was in training ) and have five children and numerous pets. As Christians they have always used their spare room for whatever needy person has come into their lives, not for them the valid excuses of not enough room or too busy. The children love meeting new people and their new Ukrainian is having lots of fun and improving his English.

Meanwhile on the home front my younger son and daughter-in-law have just bought their own place and I am on my own again. Lots of their stuff is still here so I might not have room for any refugees just yet, especially as the rest of the family want to come and see the many improvements they have done – that’s for another blog.

But far from the terrible war in Ukraine and Chez Tidalscribe, two stories in the news caught my imagination, one local tiny tale and one big story on the other side of the world.

Before Christmas there was a fire in a block of flats in Bournemouth, luckily the elderly residents were safely evacuated and quickly transferred to the Premiere Inn next door. But a News South story the other day revealed they were still there; so close to home and yet so far. They are being well looked after, have their friends and neighbours close and don’t have to bother with cooking. But it’s not HOME. Premiere Inns are usually reliable ( all look exactly the same ) and comfortable as long as you like the colour purple. Very handy as stopovers on long journeys or to stay near relatives who have a full house, but you would not want to live there for months on end. Ensuite bathroom yes, but the furnishings are basically a few shelves, some coat hangers and a hard chair. A lady of 93 was shown sitting on the big bed knitting, much the same position you would find me on a short Premiere break. I prefer to avoid the hard chair, gathering all the pillows and lounging with my knitting, book or iPhone. With all that’s happened, the last place I actually stayed away from home was Margate Premiere Inn Christmas 2019, a handy location twixt railway station and beach, overlooking the shelter where TS Eliot wrote The Wasteland, which still lies languishing on my Kindle… you can read more about the delights of Margate in this blog…

The Wonder of Wetherspoons | Times and Tides of a Beachwriter (tidalscribe.com)

A more chilling story came from China in the news one evening. Anyone testing positive for Covid was being forced into quarantine in the most basic facilities ( or lack of facilities ) but the people screaming and fighting ‘security forces’ were not being taken away for quarantine. They were being evicted from their flats, their homes, so the whole block could be taken over as a quarantine centre; perhaps an effort to improve accommodation for the quarantees! Where the residents were going to live was not clear, but there are so many ways to lose one’s home. Never take your home for granted, one day you may have No Sweet Home.

Sunday Short Story – 1200 – Sunshine Break

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‘I don’t care where, as long as there is a beach and sunshine…. Make that a decent hotel with a pool and a private beach…  any country that will let us in and let us out again… no I don’t care if we have to isolate when we get back, working from home is no big deal.’

Ben scrolled down the computer screen, Tina was right, they were both desperate for a holiday; two weeks away and they would worry later about getting back.

 It was bliss; by the pool, on the beach, al fresco dining and the staff were fabulous, glad to have guests and so few guests Ben and Tina were given plenty of attention. They were more relaxed than they had felt in years, their worries left at home. Ben had suggested leaving their phones at home as well, but Tina thought that was going a bit far. They would need the internet to sort out the return journey, but a good compromise was to leave phones and iPads in the hotel safe, along with their passports, as they didn’t trust the staff, plus a few bits of Tina’s jewellery in case a local business person invited them for dinner.

 So far the only locals they had met were the staff, but they were enjoying the novelty of spending time together, sauntering through the grove of trees to the beach with its quaint collection of fishing boats and locals mending nets. Or they could look up at the rolling hills that were the backdrop to the gleaming new white hotel. This was a real get away break, no television, no news, no discussions of climate change or Covid. Perhaps tomorrow, their fifth day, they would hike up the hills or venture into the local village, if there was one. They would have to ask that friendly waiter, who had a good smattering of English, what lay outside the high hotel walls and how you actually got out.

The sunset that night was a delight, Ben was almost tempted to request the night manager to open the safe so he could get his phone out and take an Instagram shot, but Tina insisted no digital image could capture the rich reds and dark streaks in the sky.

They woke late the next morning, surprised the sun was not streaming through the window. Out on the balcony the sky looked dull and the sea had lost its sparkle.

‘Perhaps it’s going to rain,’ said Tina ‘does it rain here?’

‘No idea, the air doesn’t feel damp, in fact there is a strange scent in the air, I can’t smell the sea like I usually do.’

‘It’s very quiet this morning Ben.’

Ben felt an unease; it was always quiet here, but now it was silent, unnaturally so. He felt that tingle in his spine that told him he was outside his comfort zone, he had an urge to be reunited with his mobile phone. He chivvied Tina to hurry so they wouldn’t miss breakfast.

Their footsteps echoed on the marble staircase and as they swept round the curve they saw the snooty elderly couple who had not exchanged a single word with them. Now they were poised expectantly at the foot of the stairs.

‘Hey ho, nobody on the desk’ said the husband.

‘And the dining room is empty’ added his wife.

‘It’s late, we slept in’ said Tina, ‘we must have missed breakfast.’

‘No, completely empty, no sign of life, no food, no indication anyone had breakfast.’

‘Ben, there must be something wrong, what shall we do?’

‘Forage in the kitchen’ said the old chap.

‘I don’t think things are that drastic yet,’ said Ben ‘the staff are very attentive, I’ll ask the manager what’s going on.’

Ben strode over to the reception desk as if someone would pop up instantly at his approach, but there was nobody there. He skirted round the desk and rapped loudly on the door of the office, no response. A hefty push sent the door flying open to reveal the empty office and a computer with a dark screen. Ben fiddled with the keyboard and the mouse to no avail, the old chap laughed as he tried the light switch on the wall.

‘Power’s off by the looks of it.’

Ben was staring at the very solid door of the safe. The manager was the only person allowed to open it, but where was the manager? If there was a crisis Ben wanted to get Tina back to the airport and home. Without their passports and phones they were stuck.

‘Right, there must be some explanation. Tina and I will search the grounds you two check the rest of the hotel.’

Leaving the air conditioned building they knew instantly what was wrong, the air had a dry crackle, an acrid scent. The sky over the sea had a thick haze and as they turned to look up at the hills real fear gripped them as they stared at the glowing crest.

‘There must be an evacuation plan’ said Tina.

  ‘I think love the evacuation plan has already been carried out, but it’s okay, that private beach is a godsend.’

Ben was saved from heroically rescuing the old couple from the hotel building, they were already stumbling out on to the terrace.

‘Are you certain nobody is in the hotel?’

‘Certain, bloody staff have deserted us.’

‘Forgotten,’ said Tina ‘or perhaps about to come and fetch us, they’ll be down on the beach organising the evacuation in all those boats.’

 She patted the arm of the elderly lady, proud she was keeping calm in an emergency.

As they trekked through the grove, ash was already floating down. The beach seemed much further away, they could have done without the slow old couple Ben thought to himself.

 ‘Reminds me of that time we were stuck in…’ the old man tried to wheeze out the words while his wife shook her head to silence him.

On the beach, clear of the grove at last, they instinctively turned to look up at the hills. The flames were marching down with a speed that seemed impossible. Relief that they were well clear of the hotel was short lived as they turned back to look at the beach and the sea. There was not a single boat in sight, with the ever darkening sky it was hard to tell if smudges on the horizon were boats, but the churned up sand and foot prints leading from the trail through the grove to where the water lapped the beach, indicated a hurried departure by a good few people.

‘They’ll come back for us,’ said Tina ‘we’ll be safe by the water, have you two got your phones, ours are in the safe.’

‘No, it’s on charge in our room, not much help if the power’s off…  no reception here anyway, we’re on our own… he started to splutter his words as the air thickened.

A loud crack made Tina jump and grab Ben’s arm. No one spoke as they watched the flames take hold of the grove, behind it the hotel gleamed white for a second before being engulfed in flames and smoke.