Buying the Virgin novel Chapter 120

MICHAEL

Smoke billowing up the staircase, we race down to the lower floors. Using the lifts is unthinkable.

Alarms are ringing, and there is chaos, as panicked workers try to escape the building.

Up the staircase, coming towards us, are firefighters in full kit and mask.

Shit!

We’re on fire?

James sees me looking upwards. “Don’t worry. You can be sure she’s getting the hell out as fast as she can. She’ll not sit helplessly by.”

“But she won’t…”

He skids to a halt, hovering between one step and the next. “What? Why not?”

Breathing heavily now. “I told her to stay put. And I made her promise to obey. I think she’ll try to keep the promise…”

James rolls his eyes. “Fuck! What a time to disable her….” He stares at me, hard. “And you accuse me of treating her as a sub…” He pats his pockets. “Damn! No phone. Got yours on you?”

“No. I just ran from the apartment. You?”

“So, she’s promised to stay put, in a burning building, and we can’t contact her?”

“Yes.”

Oh God, Babe. What have I done?

James turns heading upwards again, but above us, there is a crashing noise. A few seconds later, we meet a group of the firefighters, descending again. “Get moving downward.” yells one of them as he comes past. “The floor above here’s on fire. The whole building’s coming apart. You can’t go that way.”

From below there is a rushing sound and the smoke turns black. Coughing, we keep moving downwards.

And will Charlotte try to keep the promise I forced her to make?

*****

BETH

Charlotte dashes to the stairwell, but acrid, black smoke billows up from below. Quickly, she slams the door closed, coughing and spluttering. “No way out that way.”

“Down the garbage chute?” I ask. “Like they do in movies?”

She gives me an old-fashioned look. “Not a chance. Too narrow, and it’s anyone’s guess what we’d land in.”

“I don’t mind a bit of dirt if it’s to escape a fire.…”

“How about landing in a compactor, or a waste recycler? You got any idea what’s at the bottom?”

“Er… no…”

“Well then…. Having said that…. let’s have a look at the laundry chute.”

Smoke surges up, flooding the room, a bitter-sweet chemical smell, and she jerks her head backwards, hastily, slamming the hatch closed “Must have taken hold in the dry-cleaning stuff.…”.

She circles, looking for options, a way to escape. “Jeez…” she mutters, her face white, and for the first time since I have known her, I see real fear in Charlotte.

Her phone rings and she snatches at it.

“It’s James,” she says with it pressed to her ear. “Yes…. Master, we’re trapped…. We can’t…. Right? Wonderful! Yes, Beth’s with me. Richard sent her up here…. Yes, I will.”

She taps off the phone, then yells at me, “Out onto the roof. There’s help coming….”

Grabbing a couple of mobiles lying on the desktop, Michael’s and James’ I assume, she stuffs them in a pocket, and we dash out to the terrace garden. Even as we burst out into the fresh air, a helicopter is descending to us, a harness winching down.

Other choppers are buzzing the higher floors, scanning windows, but there is no-one in view other than ourselves.

Charlotte clips the harness onto me, and immediately I am hoisted away and up. Within a minute, the harness lowers again, and Charlotte too is winched to safety. As she is pulled into the cockpit, the ‘copter tilts, turns and sweeps away. “Where are we going?” she yells to the pilot.