The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1201 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“What’s happening now?” I asked returning from the cloakroom.

“Their camera van went up in a puff of smoke, so we don’t know what’s happening.”

“I need to get there.”

“How are you going to do that–the roads will all be blocked by traffic, police or sightseers.”

“My children are in there?”

“You think.”

“I know.”

“Why have terrorists attacked a Portsmouth bank and not the railway or the power station or even the refinery at Fawley?”

“How do I know, I only work for them not sit on the board.”

I grabbed my jacket and the key for the bike workshop. Two minutes later, I was on my mountain bike and pedalling as fast as I could towards town. Jim agreed to stay and watch the house and the others. I presumed Stella was upstairs–she rarely watched telly.

Twenty minutes later, I met the traffic jams and wound my way through it until I could see the smoke and flames ahead of me and the police cordon. “Excuse me officer, I have to get through, my children are in that building.”

“Sorry, Miss, no one’s allowed through–it’s too dangerous.”

“Oh, if you say so, could you hold my bike a second while I move my bag.” I let go the bicycle and as he grabbed it, I dodged past him ignoring his threats as I ran on towards the fire.

As I neared the centre of the action, I could see several burnt out cars and vans, including an ambulance. The helicopter was still trying to fan the flames downwards and another was trying to winch people up. It looked like a naval chopper–I suppose they only are down the road. A couple more began circling waiting for the first one to leave.

It was painfully slow and I died a hundred deaths watching the little I could see from the road. The fire service were doing a sterling job trying to contain the fire, but I needed to be up where the action was to check on my family. I slipped into an adjacent building and began the slow climb up the stairs towards the roof. It seemed to take an age, even with all the adrenalin flowing through my veins, and by the time I got to the top floor and then found the roof access, which was locked, I was exhausted and almost ready to cry.

Then a group of firemen came rushing up carrying hoses and connected them to the hydrant in this building and then opening the roof access, climbed up, trailing their hoses behind them. I sneaked through and standing well back watched them playing their hoses on the flames as they licked against the outside of the building.

There was a loud crack as several windows exploded and the fire tried to gain access through their broken panes–the firemen immediately responded and hosed down the offending area. They were working flat out, but only just managing to hold the flames which were threatening to engulf the entire lower parts of the building and presumably then on, the whole thing. Despite the heat I felt my blood run cold.

I approached the senior officer on the roof, “Where are they taking the evacuees?”

“Back the naval base, why?”

“Why couldn’t they land them here and get in ten times as many flights?”

“What if this one catches fire?”

“It won’t.”

“How d’you know?”

“I’ve watched all the Superman films.”

“Thompson, get rid of this woman, will you?”

“Look, Chief, or whoever you are, those are my children in that mess over there.”

“So what, Thompson get rid of her.”

“C’mon, Luv, let’s be ‘avin’ yer.”

“Please, Mr Thompson, let me stay.”

“C’mon now, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Nor I you.”

He laughed, just before I dropped him. He wasn’t hurt, just stunned.

“Get me some police up here, we’ve got a woman lunatic running riot, she just decked sixteen stone of fire fighter.”

I grabbed his radio, "Hey you, up in the choppers, bring the evacuees to this roof, I’ll take them down to the street.”

“Give me back my radio, you bitch.” He started to chase me round the roof. However, the chopper started to move to our roof, and we both ran to stand against a wall as ten people jumped out and as promised, I led them to the stairs.

Another, bigger copter was hovering just feet above the bank building and people were diving into it. Two minutes later it was hovering above us and evacuees were emerging from it; I pointed them to the stairs, where a policeman was directing them earthwards.

For the next hour, we watched as the helicopters carrying twenty or so people at a time dump them on our roof and they all managed to walk down the stairs although some looked very distraught.

Finally, a chopper disgorged my children and we hugged and wept together. “Where’s Daddy?” I asked and a tearful Trish answered me.

“He’s stayed behind to help the injured, to load them into the helicopters.”

“C’mon, we need to get you down from here.” I led them to the stairs and slowly we descended holding hands. I offered prayers for the safe delivery of the man I loved overwhelmed by his courage in holding back his own fear to help others. Safely on the street level we were led away and a paramedic checked them all and gave them some oxygen to breathe.

“Have you any helium?” asked Trish, “it makes your voice go like Minnie Mouse.” She had to make do with oxygen.

We waited, light blue blankets wrapped round us, for Simon. The hovering stopped and there was another huge bang and we had to run to avoid glass from the exploding windows. These firemen really earned their money.

A woman was dragged on a stretcher to the paramedic, who shook his head after checking her vitals. I nodded to Trish and as soon as the lady was covered up, we started to blue light her. I tried to enter into her world and see where she was, while Trish concentrated on shifting the clot which had formed in her coronary artery.

In twenty minutes we were nearly there, and just as the paramedic was about to put her in a body bag, she coughed and he paused in shock for a moment then leaped into action to attend to her.

A group of firemen came from the roof and with them the last of the evacuees. Simon wasn’t there. I ran up to them, “Where’s Simon, where’s my husband?”

“Sorry, Lady, this is all there is.”

“But it can’t be, my husband was on that roof helping the injured.”

“There’s no one left there now, please clear the area, the fire is worsening.” There was an enormous boom and the ground shook and the flames shot higher into the sky.

“Where’s my husband?” I screamed at them and they just shrugged.

“That’s her,” said a loud voice. “Arrest her, she countermanded my orders.” The fire chief pointed at me and two policemen walked towards me.

Just then a man with a white helmet walked between us, “Walker, I think we’ll forget it this once. Look, Luv, take your kids and get off home.”

“I want to know where my husband is, he was with the children until they got in the helicopter.”

“What’s his name?”

“Simon Cameron.”

He picked up his radio, “Any news on a Simon Cameron, was on the roof of the bank?”

“Not yet, okay, thanks.” He looked at me, “Sorry, luv, I don’t know where he is.”