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the heavy protective suits and boots – felt stiff and new, and stiflingly heavy. The heat was so intense it felt like it would crack her face. It made her think of a sausage skin bursting on a barbecue. But still she carried on. She blasted the flames with water and followed up every little orange tongue she could see. She would protect that house with every last breath in her body.
    They carried on soaking the charred fence; the trees behind it had been reduced to black skeletons.
    Finally Wanasri felt the hose sag in her hands. The hiss of the water stopped. For a moment the site fell silent. Every member of the three teams was on tenterhooks. Was the fire out?
    Steam made a grey cloud around the house. Water dripped off the eaves. The sunlight picked out droplets on the pink and yellow tricycle in the front gardenThe grass and the paved drive were littered with burned twigs and rubbish that had fallen out of the sky. Any one of them could have set the house ablaze.
    But none of it was burning any longer.
    A moment ago Wanasri had felt exhausted. Now, as she coiled up her hose, she was on top of the world. They had done it. They had saved somebody’s home.
    A white police 4x4 pulled up between the red engines. Two officers climbed out, pulling yellow safety vests on over their uniforms.
    One of them called to Petra, who was closing the water valves on the truck. ‘Is it all out?’
    Petra nodded. ‘It’s all yours.’
    A gate opened in the charred fence. A fireman from one of the other crews stepped through and beckoned to the policemen. ‘Officer, I think you should come and see this. Looks like this fire was started deliberately.’

Chapter Five
     
    Kelly pushed open the glass doors of the flying club. Ben followed her in. The air conditioning was a welcome relief from the heat outside. Ben found it was no longer a novelty to be sweltering hot in the middle of February.
    When they phoned the police to report the fire they were told they’d be asked to give a statement, so Kelly had cut their flight short and brought them back.
    The foyer of the club was like a hotel: palm trees, an atrium and a few big canvases of aboriginal art. At the front desk was a young male receptionist in an open-necked shirt that showed off a tan. As soon asKelly saw him, her behaviour changed. She checked her flying suit, which was once again knotted like a jumper around her hips, took off the orange baseball cap and shook her blonde hair free. Then she went up to the desk. Ben tagged along, feeling rather embarrassed.
    Kelly leaned on the counter and gave the receptionist her most dazzling Texan smile. ‘Hi – I’m expecting a visitor. A police officer. My name’s Kelly Kurtis.’
    The receptionist consulted a large diary beside the switchboard. ‘They haven’t arrived yet, Miss Kurtis,’ he said. ‘Actually, hang on a sec. A parcel came for you.’ He turned round and picked up a large box that was resting against the desk. It was the size of a tea chest.
    ‘Oh, that was quick,’ said Kelly. She smiled again. ‘I’m afraid I’ve been shopping.’
    ‘Is that right?’ said the receptionist. ‘Looks a bit big to be shoes.’
    Kelly shook her head and gave him an enigmatic look. ‘It’s a power chute.’
    ‘What’s a power chute?’ asked Ben.
    Kelly glared at him. It was a look that said, Children should be seen and not heard . Then she turned her attention back to the receptionist, hooked her phone out of her trouser pocket and showed him the picture on her start-up page. ‘That’s me and some friends power chuting in Wyoming.’
    The receptionist looked at it, then nodded. ‘Oh, those. We’ve got a couple of members who do that off the runway. They must be mad.’
    Ben could see Kelly took the remark as a compliment to her bravery. ‘You’ve got to know what you’re doing,’ she said. ‘You have to read the air currents, like a sailor reading the sea.’ She made to put the phone away.
    ‘Can I see?’