The twins’ bedroom was the second window from the front. He needed to turn right through the kitchen and head for the second door along the passage to the closed door…

He had to work fast, whatever was behind that door. If he was met with a wall of flame he didn’t have a chance-but then, neither did the twins.

With a silent prayer, he felt the knob, but it wasn’t hot to touch. That was his first good sign. There was therefore only smoke hard against the door. There was nothing to do now but…

He took a deep, smoke-filled breath, opened the door and forced his eyes to see. The curtains across the window were blazing, and the bed against the far wall was well alight. Outside, Helmut raised his hose and he was hit in the face by a jet of water.

Thank God for Helmut. The water wouldn’t put the fire out, but it helped keep him alive. The soggy sweater across his face made breathing possible-just-and he kept his face in that direction until the sweater was completely soaked.

Then he took another breath and somehow managed to make his voice work.

‘Kids, where are you?’

‘H-here…’ The muffled gasp came from the side of the room away from the window-low down. A piece of burning curtain landed in his hair. He thrust it away, unconscious of the pain, and groped under the second bed.

‘Grab hold,’ he managed, and small hands reached out and gripped his arms. As he counted contact hands-four!-he could have sobbed in relief.

There was no time for sobbing. Now what? Somehow he had to get them back through the house, and the smoke was building every minute.

‘T-Tigger,’ one of the children was saying, and the kid was pulling away.

‘What?’

‘Tigger.’

Matt found his hands full of sodden fur as the thing was thrust at him. A toy? Good grief! He shoved it down his shirt and grabbed a blanket.

‘Wait.’ His voice came out as a hoarse croak. More of Helmut’s water hit the blanket, but not enough. He held it up and let it soak, and then threw the cloth over the boys’ heads.