![]() ![]() Lucky to be alive: Flic and her husband Simon escaped through the bedroom window ![]() The firemen told us that the fire burnt out in the kitchen, having ripped across the ceiling and down the walls. Simon reports that the house is still standing and the only structural damage is to the kitchen. So, £150 later, they're still sooty, but he doesn't have toothache. We take all four to the vet for a check-up - they're fine, except one has an abscess on a tooth, unrelated to the shocks of the night before. They have, but they're like little grey owls: all their soft white fur is covered in soot. The day after the fire, Simon and my Dad go back to the house to check that the cats have survived. This is my diary of how we started to piece our family life back together. It was only after three days, when we had to return to our house to survey the damage and begin the tortuous process of making it into a home again, that things became more difficult. I barely noticed I was wearing my mum's three-sizes-too-big jumper dress because all my clothes were encrusted in soot or that Simon's coat smelt of singed wool.įor the first few days in Mum's warm, safe kitchen, I felt like Holly Golightly at Tiffany's - as if nothing bad could happen there. We went to TGI Friday's to celebrate, and laughed and ate cake. It was his 17th birthday the following day and, despite the fact his presents - books, games and DVDs - were covered in soot, he was happy no one was dead. We went to stay at my parents' house, a mile away, with our son, Wolfie. The house was a blackened wreck, so we couldn't possibly live there. In the aftermath of oxygen masks, medical checks and cups of tea, we were just grateful to be alive.
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