“Do something,” Mari yelled at the men of the fire brigade, who were milling about purposelessly.
“Not our building, miss,” one of them replied.
“What did you mean, not your building?” she asked.
“Our company didn’t insure the bookshop. We’ll wait and make sure the flames don’t spread to one of our buildings.”
“They’re going to spread if you don’t put them out.”
The man shrugged. “Another brigade will be here soon.”
Mari stalked down the street, so furious she could barely see straight. Edgar was right. The fire brigade system needed to change.
“Miss Perkins,” a thin little voice called.
She stopped walking and spun around.
Adele flung herself into Mari’s arms. Mari wrapped her arms around her, crooning softly. “Sweetheart, you’re safe.”
Michel and her father came next, hand in hand.
“We were so worried,” said Mari. “So worried. Don’t ever leave again, do you understand?”
“I thought you were the one who was leaving,” said Adele.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Where’s the duke?” asked her father.
“He’ll be here any moment. He thought your shop was burning and he’s bringing his fire engine from the foundry. He’s right, you know. These fire brigades are hopeless.”
They watched from a safe distance as the fire brigade formed a line on either side of their decrepit old engine and the men on one side pulled down on their levers, while the men on the other side pushed up. But no water came out the end of the hose.
To Mari’s dismay, the battered old hand pump engine shuddered, emitted a groaning, scraping noise, and stopped working altogether.
Next, the men formed a bucket line and began passing buckets of water but it was maddeningly slow, and wasn’t doing anything to stop the fire’s progress.
The scene was chaotic and confusing, with some men advocating for calling a different fire brigade, and others calling for more buckets.
Her father watched the blaze with worried eyes. “That’s Mr. Brookfield’s bookshop. I feel terrible for him.”
“Why is that other fire brigade simply standing around watching?” she asked.
“They’re from another insurance company,” said her father. “See? The foreman has blue livery with the gold sun on it. They won’t lift a finger until the fire threatens to spread to the buildings insured by their company.”
Mari shook her head, disgusted by the whole thing.
The children watched, wide-eyed as the flames burned inside the tall stone building, licking through the ground floor. The fire could easily spread next door.
“Should we take the children away?” Mari asked her father.
“No.” Michel shook his head. “I want to stay and watch Father fight the fire.”
“He’d better hurry,” said Mari’s father.
Finally, Mari glimpsed Edgar’s gleaming engine, pulled by one sleek chestnut horse, barreling down the road toward them. Grafton rode beside the engine on another horse.
“There he is,” cried Mari.