‘There won’t really be a fire,’ I said. ‘I’m just going to make some smoke and set off the fire alarm so that Jack has to open the back door and let some air in.’ ‘But how . . .?’ ‘We hide while Jack and Dylan open the door,’ I explained. ‘While they’re busy checking out what’s causing the alarm to go off, we get out. If there’s enough smoke they won’t be able to see us escaping. And even if they do, they’ll be too surprised to stop us.’ I turned my attention to the tea towel. It was singed already – a dark burn mark spreading across the fabric. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ Ed whispered urgently. ‘Fire spreads really fast and the smoke is more dangerous than—’ Too late. The tea towel burst into flames. Holding it at arm’s length I looked up at the ceiling. The smoke alarm was just above a cluster of bottles and jars on the counter by the utility room door. I flicked it under the alarm. ‘Stop,’ Ketty squealed.
