Signal

You could say that the place was in the middle of nowhere.

The cottage was in a dead end road that was hardly used, especially during the low season. It was more of a lane really, tucked away in the countryside. It contained just half a dozen holiday homes, three on one side, and three on the other. They were simple dwellings, nothing glamorous, rented out to those who wanted to get away from it all. That night he had driven there from work and was checking through the rooms, making sure everything was as it should be. When the weather improved he would be renting it out again. It was a cold night, but he wasn’t about to use the heating as he wouldn’t be there very long. In fact, he had almost finished his inspection when he heard it. It was a distant crackling sound.

He moved to the front and peered through the window. The pretty little cottage opposite was on fire. An orange glow was flickering behind the curtains and some smoke was visible. He knew the owner. He was sure he wasn’t there as there was no sign of him when he arrived an hour earlier. The sound of it was growing louder. He ran back through the house and into the garden. Knowing how poor the signal was, and having discovered that it was better at the back, he stood holding up his mobile phone. He had all the local emergency numbers. He was squinting at the screen, looking for the bars. Nothing! He began walking around, looking for a good spot.

As it happened, he didn’t actually like the man that owned the rental home across the road. He had been very rude to both he and his wife recently. It was all rather nasty. The four of them, the two couples, had literally bumped into each other in a shop in the local town. The long and the short of it being the fact that the man and his wife were snobs. Snobs, pure and simple. There was nothing more to it than that. They had been extremely rude. It had really upset his wife, but at the time he felt it best to move on and make no more out of it. He was reflecting on the incident. It was ironic that the store they were in at the time was the last in that row of shops, right next to the fire station on the corner.

As he stood, straining to see a workable signal, a cloud of dark thoughts began to work their way in. His arm was aching from holding the phone up. He lowered it and rubbed his muscles. It had been about the properties; such arrogant remarks. It was about how the front of their cottage had been repainted recently, while his was looking shabby and lowering the tone of the place. He stood for a while wondering how such a conversation could have started. He felt that he shouldn’t be thinking about these things right now. They weren’t relevant to the situation, or there again, where they? But, after all, there was the issue of a moral imperative here. He had a duty, hadn’t he?

He returned to the front and saw that the fire had taken a strong hold. It would be completely burned out long before any emergency service could get there. It was a cold night and he found himself appreciating the heat. In fact, it was a pleasant sensation, having the warmth work its way through him. He suppressed a grin. He would be leaving soon. He had mixed feelings about what had happened. There was no need for anyone to know that he’d actually been there. Even at home, there was nothing unusual about him coming home from work a couple of hours late.

By the light of the fire he glanced again at the screen.

He never could get a signal at the front.