I’m not sure if it was the smoke or the smell of burning that I noticed first. I am, however, totally sure of what I noticed second: the near-collapse of Tim Preston. The colour draining from his face and his knees giving way under the weight of his growing panic. We both stared across the field, our eyes squinting against the flickering orange glow, our mouths wide open.
THE BAKERY WAS ON FIRE. ON FIRE. THERE WERE ACTUAL FLAMES.
And billowing black smoke vomiting into the sky behind us.
Oh and, just by the way, it was our fault…