Inferno

I cursed as I sent the clock flying in my rush to get out of bed and across to the window to see what all the noise was. 3:05 AM the clock blinked up at me from the gloom.

Outside, three fire engines rushed to join others by the growing inferno that was the small industrial estate at the end of the street. The garage that fixed my car almost weekly was there, so was a paint distributor where several of my neighbours worked, and a 'Toy and Fancy Goods Importers' – they supplied the market stalls with cheap toys and plastic tat.

I opened the window to get a better view and was immediately hit, not by the cool night air as I expected, but by a sickly, sweet, chemically smell carried by the black smoke of the fire. I suppose the stench that assaulted my nostrils was made up of paint, melting plastic and burning oil and rubber from the garage.

I looked down at the street and saw police everywhere, twenty or thirty of them, working in pairs and calling at every house. They reached mine, looked up at me and shouted 'Shut your windows and go down to the far end of the street. We're evacuating the area.'

I pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt, found my trainers, grabbed a fleece jacket and raced downstairs and out into the garden. I set off for the end of the street, then went back to lock the door. When I got to the meeting point there were only a couple of policemen and me. 'Everyone's at the Village Hall,' said the sergeant. 'Constable Drury will take you there now'. On the way Constable Drury explained that the firemen believed there were several large gas bottles in the garage, which would explode like war-time bombs if they got too hot.

As I opened the hall's outer door I was enveloped in that warm, sweaty smell of too many people in too small a space. I took a deep breath of fresh air and wriggled my way through the chattering mass towards the tea counter.

Just as I got there, all the cups jumped on their saucers, then there was the sound of a huge explosion not very far away and the room fell silent.