Jane could smell burning. It wasn’t the beef casserole she was slaving over, she was sure of it. A quick inspection of the kitchen showed no signs of burning foodstuffs. Paul had said something about lighting the fire. In a frenzy, Jane abandoned her kitchen utensils, sprinting to the living room as fast as the obstructing furniture would allow. Images of the cream carpet ablaze and streaks of fire assailing the walls entered her head. Even her daughter Emily, lulled to sleep by the strangling fumes, lying motionless, surrounded by flames.
Flying into the living room, with her hands holding her to the doorframe, Jane gasped.
The room wasn’t ablaze. It took a moment for the adrenaline to fade, for the panic to subside before Jane could instil a calming breath.
“Mummy?” Came the innocent voice of Emily. Little Emily, breathing, alive.
“I can smell burning; honey, are you alright?”
“Yes. It’s smelly though.”
“What is, darling?”
“Percy is.” Emily stated simply, pointing to the fire. Jane walked into the room, her eyes fixed on the fireplace.
“Emily!” Jane cried, throwing herself down onto the carpet.
“But he’s an ugly teddy!” She justified with her brutal, yet honest reasoning.
Ugly he might have been, but Percy is, was an old bear, Jane thought as she watched the teddy crumple under the weight of the flames. Not from her mother, nor her grandmother, but her great, great grandmother. That was three corpses that would be turning in their coffins tonight.
“Stefanie told me too. She didn’t want to catch his ugliness.” Emily said. Jane eyed the pink furred teddy huddled in her daughter’s lap. She couldn’t return her gaze to the fire. Percy was gone, after all those years. All those tempestuous nights with Percy snuggled beneath the bed sheets to keep the generations safe from the scary weather. Never again.
“Mummy?” Emily asked as Jane stared into space. “Don’t let dinner burn!”
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