Kismetology (26 page)

"If it was a burglar, he wouldn’t be knocking."

Good point.

"It’s probably your mother, imagining that the fucking
cat is sick again."

"What if it’s a new kind of burglar? A clever kind? A
kind that thinks that we won’t think it’s a burglar if he knocks?"

"What, like a new, improved burglar? You think they
invent them in factories like processed cheese?"

"I’m serious, Dan."

"Go back to sleep, Mac. You’re having a
nightmare."

Bang, bang, bang, bang
.

"I’m going to answer it, Dan."

"Take the baseball bat."

I grab said bat on my way out of the room.

Shit, I’m thinking on my way down the stairs. What if it is
a burglar, and when I open the door he’s going to hold me at gunpoint and try
to rob us.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
.

Oh god, now it’s getting more urgent. Maybe he’s getting
cold out there and he wants to come in.

I get to the door and try looking through the glass, but the
street lamp is out and I can’t see a thing. What if he knows that so he’s
struck on a night when he knows we’re vulnerable and we won’t be able to see
him outside the door?

I get my baseball bat at the ready and prepare to take my resentment
at Dan sending me to do this out on the guy standing outside with a gun. I
mean, I like to think of myself as a modern woman, but isn’t it the man’s job
to be all protective and beat up potential burglars in the middle of the night?

I brace myself, bat raised in my right hand while I crack
the door open the tiniest bit with my left hand.

"Oh thank god. Mac, let me in!"

"Mum?"

I pull the door open wide. There she is. My mother. Standing
on our doorstep in her nightie at three in the morning. With Baby under one arm
and Pussy in a cat carrier in the other.

"What’s going on?"

"My house is on fire."

"Oh yeah, right. What are you really doing here?"

But then I hear something. It sounds like a… siren.

I lean out the door and look down the street towards her
house. "Oh my god."

There are two fire engines outside, and I can see a hosepipe
and water being sprayed everywhere.

"Oh my god. What happened? Are you all right?"

"The fridge," she says. "Did Dan tell you I
had to get him to come over and fix it? Well, obviously he didn’t. It was
heating up. The fireman just said that it had sparked onto a tea towel, that’s
what started it."

"Bloody hell." I’m too shocked for words.
"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I’m fine. Baby started barking for no reason, and
when I went downstairs to see if there was a burglar I could see flames under
the kitchen door, so I got the animals and phoned the fire brigade."

"Crikey. Is the damage bad?"

"They don’t know yet. Will you come and talk to them
with me?"

"Of course," I say. "Bring the cat and dog in
and then we’ll go and have a look. I’m just going to get some shoes and a
coat." I run upstairs and hit Dan on the back to wake him up.

"Dan, Mum’s house is burning down. We’re going to see
how bad it is."

"Whatever," he mumbles.

Cheers, babe
, I think.

I pull a coat and a pair of trainers on and grab a coat for
Mum too, as she’s only wearing a nightdress.

"Here," I say, handing it to her when I get back
downstairs. "It’s cold tonight."

"Thanks," she says. She seems a little shaken up.

"Are you sure you’re okay? I mean, should you get
checked out at the hospital or anything? You know, for smoke inhalation or
shock or something?"

"No, I’m fine," she says. "I was just worried
about getting the animals out in time."

"Well, they look fine to me," I say. Pussy is in a
carrier, but Baby is loose and sniffing his way around my living room, probably
looking for any other plants he might be able to kill.

We head out the door and walk down to end of the road where
Mum’s house and the firemen are.

"Hi," Mum says to one of them. "This is my
daughter, Mackenzie."

I nod politely at the fire fighter.

"So, what happened?" I ask him. "How bad is
the damage?"

"We’re lucky that we caught it early so it didn’t have much
of a chance to spread. The fire started in the kitchen—there’s a faulty fridge
freezer in there and I’d bet you any money that it was sending sparks flying
all over the place."

"Is the fire out now?"

"Yes, we’re just pulling out."

"How bad is it?"

"The kitchen is pretty messy. You’ll have to get that
fixed up on insurance, but like I said, we saved it spreading too much. You’re
lucky you woke up when you did," he says to Mum.

"My Baby barked," she says. "My Baby saved my
life."

The fire guy is giving her a funny look.

"She means her dog," I clarify, and suddenly I
feel a lump in my throat. Thank god that Baby barked when he did, otherwise who
knows what could have happened… Oh my god, it doesn’t bear thinking about.

"I’d avoid staying there tonight if you possibly
can," the fireman says.

"That’s fine," I interject. "She can stay
with me."

"Are you sure?" Mum asks. "What about
Dan?"

"Dan can like it or lump it," I say, suddenly
feeling quite angry at him. Okay, so I know it isn’t his fault, but he was over
here tonight working on that damn fridge, and he should have noticed if it
wasn’t safe. And why am I the one who has to climb out of bed and go to
confront someone at the door who may or may not have been a dangerous burglar?

"Can we go inside?" I ask.

"Not tonight," the fireman says. "Come back
in the morning and have a look then. You should be thankful that’s it only the
kitchen that sustained damage."

I nod.

"Okay," I say to Mum. "Is there anything
you’ve forgotten that you desperately need tonight? Because I’ll go in and get
it while the firefighters are still here."

"No," she says. "I have my Baby and my Pussy,
so I’m fine."

"She means her cat," I clarify.

The fireman nods knowingly.

We make our way back up the road just as the first fire
engine pulls away.

"Are you sure you’re okay?" I ask.

"I’m fine," she says. "Just worried about how
much mess there will be."

"Well, don’t worry," I tell her. "Tomorrow is
Saturday, so I’m off work. We’ll go and have a look in the morning and get the
insurance stuff sorted out. And the fireman did say it was only the kitchen, so
it’ll be as good as new in no time. Just think, you can even get that new
kitchen carpet you’ve been thinking about."

"I know," she says. "But it was horrible to
see all those flames eating up my house."

"I’m sure." I wrap an arm around her shoulder and
squeeze gently.

"You should sleep in our bed tonight," I say,
wanting nothing more than to stomp upstairs and drag Dan out of bed by his feet
and make him sleep on the sofa, just as punishment for being so oblivious.

"No, no. I’m sure your boyfriend is fast asleep. I’ll
be fine on the couch."

"It pulls out," I say. "So you can have Baby
sleep with you. And Pussy too, if you want."

"Thanks, Mac," she says. "That would be
great."

"I’ll just fetch a spare duvet and pillow."

CHAPTER 41

"
What
happened last
night?" Dan asks again.

"I told you, her kitchen caught fire thanks to the
fridge which you couldn’t fix."

"Hey, I'm not a repair man. I told you that."

"Yeah, and I told you, if you had had the common
decency to get up last night when my mother was having a total crisis then
maybe it wouldn’t have been such a shock to find her in the living room this
morning."

"It was three in the morning."

"Yeah, and my mum’s house was on fire.
Fire
,
Dan. It’s not a joke. If Baby hadn’t have barked when he did then who knows
what could have happened. And you couldn’t even be bothered to open your
eyes."

"It was three a.m.," he mutters. "And your
mother has at least one crisis a week."

"So what? You think fire only comes during daylight?
You think it knows when you’ve clocked off for the night and can’t be bothered
with the possibility of people
dying
?"

"Oh, she didn’t die, Mac. I don’t know what your
problem is."

"My problem is that my mother
could
have died
last night and you couldn’t even get your lazy ass out of bed to see if she was
okay. If
we
were okay."

I am barely keeping a lid on my anger this morning. Dan has
only just woken up and stumbled downstairs in his bathrobe to find Mum asleep
on the couch and to have a spoilt Yorkshire terrier launch itself at his
dressing gown cord. I’m trying not to yell and throw things at him because my
mum is asleep in the living room and I don’t want to wake her up after the
trauma of last night. And it's a good thing too, or Dan might find a few plates
being aimed at his head.

"So how long is she going to be here?"

"I don’t fucking know, Dan. We weren’t even allowed
back inside the house last night to see the damage so I don’t know how bad it
is. I’m going to take her inside this morning to find her insurance papers and
everything."

"Well, it’s a good thing I’m going to work then, isn’t
it?"

"Yes it damn well is, because I want to kill you this
morning. I’ve never known anyone who could be so fucking insensitive. Her house
nearly burns to the ground and all you can say is ‘
how long is she going to
be here
?’"

"She’s in the way. And that blasted cat has pissed
somewhere, I can smell it."

"The poor cat was probably terrified last night, Dan.
It’s not Pussy’s fault. You don’t have to be so cruel about it."

"I seem to remember that it was only last week you were
screeching about how Baby should never be allowed inside our house again
because he killed your plant."

"Yeah, and some things are more important than plants
or cat pee."

"Whatever."

"And I don’t screech."

"See you later," Dan huffs. "I’ll get dressed
in the car."

"You do that," I call after him.

Twat.

"Are you all right?" I ask Mum over breakfast. I’ve
cooked a couple of pieces of toast each and had to do extra bits for the cat
and dog seeing as their own food is still at home. Or—seeing as it was kept in
the kitchen—probably charcoal by now.

"I’m fine," she says. "I just keep thinking
about how lucky I was last night."

"Me too," I admit.

"And how lucky I am to have you living only a few doors
down. Where would I have gone last night if you weren’t here?"

"The firemen would probably have taken you to a hotel.
They wouldn’t have just left you stranded."

"I didn’t see Dan this morning," she says,
casually.

"Oh, he had to work early," I lie. "Covering
the morning shift for someone or other, I don’t really know."

"Oh, right. Good, because I was thinking about
something."

"Oh yeah?"

"I think Dan tried to kill me."

I choke on the tea I am drinking.

"You think Dan tried to kill you?"

"I had him over to fix the fridge last night and he
couldn’t do it—"

"That’s because he’s not a fridge repair man. He had a
look and couldn’t see what was wrong with it. He told you to call a
professional."

"Well, I was going to but it was nine o’clock on a
Friday night, I was going to do it this morning. I didn’t know it would explode
before I had the chance."

"I don’t think it exploded," I say gently.
"It sparked. And you shouldn’t hang tea towels near it anyway."

"So it’s my fault?"

"No, I didn’t say that. I’m just saying that I don’t
think Dan tried to kill you."

"Maybe he did. Maybe he planted a bomb."

"He didn’t plant a bomb, Mum. The firemen would have
found it."

"Not if it was one of those smart bombs."

"Dan isn’t a smart bomb kinda guy," I say.

"But he is a bomb kind of guy?"

"No," I say. "He’s not an anything illegal
kind of guy."

"Well, maybe there was no bomb then, but he knew it
would catch fire and he didn’t tell me. Maybe he was trying to kill Baby. I
know how much he hates Baby."

"It’s nothing like that," I say. "I think the
smoke has gone to your brain. What happened last night was just an accident. Just
one of those things that nobody can predict. Luckily nobody was hurt and that’s
all that matters."

"But they could have been, and then your boyfriend
would have been happy."

"Mum, can we drop this subject, please? Dan would not
have been happy at that."

"I still think he tried to kill me," she mutters
under her breath.

I decide to let that one slide. I’ve had enough arguments
for one morning.

The house is pretty much in the shape the fireman said it
would be. The kitchen is a write-off, but aside from a few smoke blackened
things in the living room, the rest of the house is virtually untouched.

Mum goes to walk though the kitchen doorway but I stop her.
"I don’t think we should go in there, it doesn’t look very safe. Let’s
just go upstairs and find your insurance policy and get someone in to clean it
up."

Thanks to Mum’s filing system, she knows exactly where the
documents she needs are, and I sit on the stairs waiting as Mum phones them
from the upstairs landline.

Eventually she thanks them and hangs up.

"They’re sending a surveyor round on Tuesday to assess
the cost of the damage, and then they’ll send their own building contractors in
to do the job."

"That’s good," I say. "At least you won’t
have to do any of the getting quotes business and phoning around different
places and crap like that."