Free The Great Fire by Ann Turnbull Page A

– “I left it in the kitchen. Go down and get it for me.”
    Sam’s patience snapped. “Of course!” he said, glancing at André’s left leg, the one with the built-up shoe. “
I
can run down in no time.”
    He was rewarded by a look of fury on André’s face, and scampered downstairs, grinning.
    The kitchen was full of busy women – Mistress Giraud, Thérèse and the maid, Amy – preparing food for supper.
    Budge was there, too, involved in a spat with Bijou, the cat. Bijou stood in front of the fire. There was a ridge of fur along her back and her round yellow eyes were fixed on Budge, who had slunk into a corner.
    â€œPoor Budge,” muttered Sam, reaching to stroke his dog. “We both have enemies, don’t we?”
    â€œSam!” said Mistress Giraud. “Don’t waste time. Here – take out these scraps. And when you come back there are shoes to be cleaned.”
    â€œI was looking for André’s prayer-book,” said Sam.
    Mistress Giraud huffed with impatience. “Well, it’s not here!”
    Sam took the peelings out, then went back upstairs.
    André lay on the bed, reading his prayer-book.
    â€œIt was under the coverlet,” he said, with a malicious glint in his eyes.
    This is stupid,
Sam thought.
I’ve said sorry – sort of. But he never leaves me alone.
    * * *
    Later that evening Sam went to bed in his little curtained alcove on the first-floor landing. It was a tiny space, but he liked it. Budge was allowed to sleep there too. And there was a window on the landing that was left open in hot weather.
    The window faced east, and a strong wind was blowing in – as warm as the blastfrom an oven. All over the house, doors rattled and banged, and the curtain across Sam’s alcove billowed like a ship’s sail. Despite all this, he slept.
    He woke in the dead of night. Budge was whimpering, and Sam could hear, in the distance, the discordant sound of church bells ringing the chimes backwards. He knew this was the alarm signal.
    Sam got up and went to the window. He stared out over the yard and rooftops.
    It was probably a fire. There were always fires, especially in this hot summer when the old wooden houses were as dry as tinder.But he couldn’t see anything. It must be a long way off.
    He went back to bed, and fell asleep.

2
Fire!
    When Sam woke again it was light. The wind was still banging the shutters, and he could hear footsteps along the passage and on the stairs.
    He sprang up, feeling guilty. He should be downstairs by now, clearing the ashes, feeding Bijou and Budge, and doing any other jobs Amy or Mistress Giraud gave him.
    In a room nearby Mistress Giraud and Thérèse were dressing the younger girls for church. He could hear six-year-old Marie chattering, and the little one, Anne, being chased and caught. All the church bells were ringing this morning, and he could no longer make out an alarm peal.
    Sam pulled on his clothes and ran downstairs, Budge racing ahead of him.
    Amy was already in the kitchen, cutting bread.
    â€œYou’re late!” she said. “Get the fire raked out. And have you cleaned the shoes?”
    There were five pairs of Giraud shoes to clean each day. There would have beensix, but André would not let Sam touch his shoes, and insisted on cleaning them himself.
    â€œI did them last night,” said Sam. “Amy, did you hear the alarm peal in the night?”
    â€œNo.” Amy frowned, and opened the back door. There was a faint smell of smoke.
    â€œProbably a fire down east,” said Amy. “It’s a long way off. So many fires we’ve had this summer.”
    â€œMiaou!” interrupted Bijou. She wound herself around Sam’s legs.
    Sam found yesterday’s meat scraps and divided them between Bijou’s bowl and Budge’s. The two animals ate warily, watching each other.
    Sam went into the scullery and splashed water