Page 84 of A Summer Scandal

‘I’ve got him!’ he was shouting. ‘Luce, I’ve got him!’

Violet sagged with relief, catching sight of Lucy at last, a streak of red silk as she hurled herself at Beau and Charlie sobbing, ‘Thank God, thank God, thank God.’

Vi watched them start to run, hand in hand like a scene from a disaster movie, Charlie still flung over Beau’s shoulder. ‘Thank God,’ she sobbed, echoing Lucy’s words.

Everything on the pier was hot to touch: the railings, the boards underfoot, the metal of the birdcage. The flames had well and truly caught; Violet needed to get off to prioritise her baby. But she couldn’t leave; not without Cal.

‘Everyone’s out of there,’ she heard someone say as they hurtled out of the door. It wasn’t Cal.

‘Everyone?’ she said, grabbing the man’s jacket. ‘Are you sure?’

‘All staff accounted for,’ he said, already moving away. ‘Get clear love, now.’

‘But Cal …’ she said, but the guy had already moved out of earshot. She stared one way, towards the mainland, but she couldn’t see through the smoke and orange glow, and she looked back towards the birdcage, agonised in case Cal was still in there.

She started to cough; her chest hurt. She had to leave. She needed to go. But when she tried to move, she stumbled, twisting her ankle as she fell down hard onto her knees, coughing. She needed to leave, but she couldn’t stand up. Hot, frightened tears rained down her cheeks as pain fired through her leg. She was going to die here. The pier was going to take her, just as it had taken Monica. Hortensia had been right.

‘I don’t want to die,’ she sobbed. ‘Please don’t let me die here.’

And then someone was behind her, scooping her up, cradling her like a child in his arms, telling her that he wouldn’t let her die, and to hold on.

‘Cal.’

‘Ssh, don’t try to speak,’ he said. ‘Just hold on tight Vi, because I’m going to run and I won’t let you fall, okay? This place is going to go down, and we’re not going down with it.’

She buried her face in his neck, breathing in only the scent of his skin, trusting him implicitly, thanking her lucky stars for him as he ran, the pier creaking and rocking underneath them.

‘What the …?’ he said, and she looked up and saw the crowd up ahead, people clambering over the locked gates, crushing forwards as sirens wailed in the distance.

‘The gates,’ he said. ‘Why are they locked, Vi? Where’s the key?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, the words hardly leaving her throat.

Cal pushed through to the front, still carrying Violet, and when he reached the front he could see people dragging each other over the gates, ripped clothes, screaming fear.

‘Cal!’ Beau yelled, pushing through to them. ‘Some fucker’s locked the gates.’

Lucy was beside him, and suddenly she started to scream and punch the gates, yelling.

‘Ian! You bastard, you did this!’

Vi looked on, confused, trying to work out why Lucy was shouting at the electrician who’d rigged up the lights for her that morning, and why he was just standing there staring at them instead of trying to help.

‘Is that him?’ Beau shouted, at the same time as a huge scream went up behind them – the central section of the pier lurched downwards into the sea, leaving everyone clinging to the land end and the birdcage an island out at sea, cut off.

Help was coming, but it wouldn’t be soon enough. And then help came from the most unexpected of places: Gladys Dearheart came bombing along the promenade and launched herself onto the back of the man holding the key, her arms locked tight around his neck, clinging on as he went down under her weight, shocked. She whacked him hard over the head with her ever-present briefcase and grabbed the key from his hand, running at the gates and finding Cal on the other side with Violet in his arms.

There wasn’t time for words. Gladys twisted the lock around, fumbling, and Cal reached through the gates and helped her, both of them crying as the lock sprung open.

‘Stand back everyone,’ Beau yelled, head and shoulders above most people. ‘Gates are open, don’t stampede or people are gonna die here!’

Vi’s last memory before she passed out was of Beau standing with his foot pressed into Ian’s back to hold him down, Charlie over his shoulder and Lucy at his side, and of Cal sitting down on the sea wall holding her safely in his lap, his other arm around his mum beside them.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Violet hadn’t felt this relaxed for a long time. She was warm, and her bones were heavy. If she could just stay here then everything would be just fine.

‘Nurse! I think she’s waking up! Nurse!’

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