家が火事ですよ・・!

1.00am. Saturday night. My next door neighbour is having a party alone. I could hear my parents moaning about the loudness of the music, but I can't say it bothered me all that much.

1.30am. I was the only person awake in the house, and I heard next door's music suddenly turn off and the man shouting "Oh no!" "Oh my god!".

1.40am. My door bell rang frantically. I woke my mum (if you know my dad, you'll understand) to tell her. We went up to the door, shouted out "Who is it?" (We're not answering the door willy-nilly.... Its London..! Its the middle of the night..!) But no answer came. We looked out the window to see my next door neighbour waving frantically.

"Your house is on fire!" he shouted. "I knocked but got no answer so rang the fire brigade to come to your house. They are on their way. Why don't you answer your door? Can't you smell the smoke?! Are you OK? Where's the rest of your family?"

... Our house? On fire? Sure, there was a strong smell of burning toast, but it's nothing to do with us. A few seconds later the fire brigade came and my mother shut the door. She didnt want to be accused of calling out the emergency services for no reason. But they insisted in looking around to investigate the smell of smoke. Ten or so firemen came in and looked in every room. Other neighbours obviously saw the flashing lights and the fire brigade, and came out to ask if we were OK. We are fine, my mother said irritably. My mother had mixed feelings, being worried, irritable, tired and confused all at the same time. I thought it was nice to see people coming out at 2am to help, even if it was partly because they were being nosey. I kind of learnt who the people who care were.

Turns out the smell of smoke was coming from the next door neighbour's house. (The one that phoned the fire brigade.) He had left something burning something in the microwave. (Is that possible..?!) It would have been nice of him to apologise for worrying and waking us, but he never. My parents just moan about how inconciderate he was. Personally I'm greatful to him. If the house was on fire, I'd want to know. And if it was, I'd be thankful to him beyond belief.

My Dad never got up. The next day he moaned about the noise we were making downstairs. He couldnt sleep. He said he saw the fireman look around the bedroom. Why he couldn't come down and support my mother is beyond me.