* * *
The car choked and spluttered, causing Jackie to curse. Boom!
‘Fuck! What was that?’
Jackie slammed on the brakes. The sound was behind her, yet it was so loud, she could feel the vibration. In her rear-view mirror, she could see the red flames just visible above the hedgerows. Perhaps the lads had burned out another car. Maybe she should get them to take her old banger away and burn it out for the insurance money when Torvic brought it back. Then she remembered she didn’t have insurance anyway.
Just as she approached the end of the lane to turn right, she saw a flash-looking motor; it was heading towards her, and as soon as it was close enough, she recognized the driver. It was Torvic. Her heart rate increased, and her palms instantly became wet, making gripping the steering wheel so much harder. She couldn’t hang around though; she needed to get away. Torvic wasn’t like Mike. He had no scruples, and she’d got the sense that he could easily get rid of her. And did he really intend to pay her the rest of the money? She thought not. She also wondered if she would ever see her car again.
As Torvic slowed down to turn left, she shot out and put her foot down. The force of the turn made her swerve, yet she wasn’t going to stop now. She had to get away. As soon as she’d straightened the car, she looked again in the mirror, and her heart rate slowed down. With a deep breath, she sighed. He’d obviously gone straight to the caravan. Perhaps he hadn’t recognized her in Tatum’s car. For after all, it was dark.
* * *
The sound of a fire engine from the distance suddenly had Torvic feeling unusually on edge. Then he saw the flames towering above the bushes, and his heart was in his mouth. The dreaded thought that the woman speeding away from the site might have been Jackie charged through his mind. If that was her, why was she leaving? He’d given her precise instructions to look after his granddaughter. Putting his foot down, he left a trail of dust behind him. As soon as he reached the gravel car parking area and saw the caravan ablaze, his head felt like it was on fire. His breathing increased, and panic gripped him hard around the throat. He rushed from the car and ran towards the towering inferno, where he was met by two men.
‘Slow down, mate. That thing could explode,’ said one of them, grabbing Torvic’s arm.
Torvic tried to shrug the man off. ‘My granddaughter might be inside that fucking caravan!’
The old man, dressed in just his jeans and a black vest, let him go, but as soon as Torvic tried to get near the caravan, the intensity of the heat forced him back. With his hands over his eyes, he tried again, but it was no use. The structure was a ball of flames. No one would have survived in there. His granddaughter, if she was inside, would be a fragile bunch of charred bones.
‘Noooo!’ he screamed, at the top of his voice.
But his desperate cries of pain were drowned out by the fire engine’s sirens. The two older men dragged the helpless, crumpled man away from the heat.
Two firemen were making their way to the blaze with a hose and pushing people aside. A well-built firefighter approached Torvic and helped him to his feet.
‘Is this your caravan, sir?’
With his face covered in beads of sweat and his hairline singed, Torvic shook his head.
‘No, but I think my granddaughter is in there. Please …’
The firefighter looked back at the red glowing ball, and suddenly, like a sardine can, the walls peeled back, revealing nothing standing of any recognizable shape. Torvic felt his legs buckle and allowed the man to lower him gently to the ground.
‘Sir, we’ll have a paramedic here soon!’
‘You what? Fucking hell, no one could have … Oh my God! No one would’ve survived that fire. What use is a fucking paramedic?’
A sad smile inched its way across the large firefighter’s face. ‘I’m sorry, sir. I meant for you.’
As Torvic looked up at the man, he glared with dark, menacing eyes, from which the firefighter recoiled in surprise. If looks could kill.
As fit as a man in his twenties, Torvic, now in his advanced years, still managed very easily to jump to his feet and lean into the firefighter’s personal space, and growl, ‘Just tell me if my granddaughter was in that fucking fire!’
The firefighter stepped away from the demonic eyes of the evil-looking gentleman. He’d been used to aiding desperate relatives who were helpless to save a loved one from a fire, but never in his career had the anger been aimed at him; he could almost taste the fury emanating from the man. Then he wondered if this was no ordinary citizen and he’d just walked into some dangerous feud, because, right now, the guy was saying someone would be held accountable.
‘I’ll talk with the other firefighters and the police.’ His manner changed, became more assertive, to demonstrate he was in charge. ‘What is your granddaughter’s name? And you think she could be inside?’
Torvic twisted his head. ‘Just fucking find out if there’s a body in there, will you?’ He stepped away and ran his hands down the back of his neck. His whole body shook with an overwhelming sense of grief mixed with rage – an intense feeling that he was hard-pressed to hold down. If his granddaughter was in that caravan, then he would take the Regans, the Lanigans, and that bitch Zara to the fire of hell and make them see what the Devil was really capable of.
It didn’t take long before the fire was out and for the occupants of every caravan to form a crowd, just to be nosey. None of them cared if that towering ball of fire was Jackie’s cremation; it would just be another month’s worth of gossip for them. The police arrived and pushed the crowd back; they tried to cordon off the area so that the special investigation unit could have access before the scene was tampered with. Normally, Torvic would have shielded his face and made a swift exit but not today. Today, he’d lost any concerns for his liberty; he had to know if Tiffany was in that fire.
The body of bustling firefighters and police suddenly stepped aside as four special fire investigators made their way through. The tall firefighter who had spoken with Torvic then talked to the police officers.
They nodded and made their way over to Torvic. Phil, the older one of the two, gently tapped his arm.
‘Sir, could you help us, here? The firefighter said you suspect a young woman was inside that caravan.’
As Torvic turned to face Phil, his eyes were red and angry. ‘Yes,’ he hissed, ‘my granddaughter. Now, I want to know if anyone can fucking tell me if she was in that fire!’
Like the firefighter, Phil was taken aback. ‘Er, sir, we are investigating that now. Please would you come with me? I do believe the ambulance is on its way. Let’s get you checked over and I’ll organize a cup of tea for you.’
Torvic frowned at the officer. ‘Tea? I don’t want fucking tea or checking over. I’m fine. Just talk to me when you know if there was a body in that caravan!’
The firefighters continued to spray the surrounding areas, soaking the neighbouring caravans, in case sparks led to the fire spreading. Jackie’s caravan was now a black skeleton. The gasps and mumblings from the crowd pricked Torvic’s ears.
He pushed his way through to look for himself. And, shockingly, there as clear as day were the charred remains of a body. The sight was sickening, and even the toughest of the gypsies had to turn away. One threw up on the spot. The police and the firefighters tried to push the crowd back, but they were reluctant to go until they’d seen the evidence for themselves. Two teenagers even pulled out their phones and started to film the devastation, zooming in on the burned body. No doubt that video would go viral.
Phil tried to urge the older man away. ‘Sir, come with me.’
‘Get ya