[About a week after this article.]

There was already smoke billowing above the Whitby Gazette office building on Bridge Street when PC Wood rushed into the fire station and to alert the firefighters. By that time, others had gone before him, for the smoke could already be seen in the sky from far of. It had spread remarkably quickly. The sound of smashing glass and then, very quickly a blaze. Perhaps it was because of all the paper there – the weekly Gazettes, printed earlier that evening to be distributed the next morning, had perhaps provided excellent fuel, and fresh oxygen was being drawn in through the broken window.

Bridge street had been dark before, but now the panicked faces of the onlooking crowd were well lit. The offices above were empty and the printing staff had left after tying up the packs of newspapers and leaving them in neat – now burning – piles on the ground. Anxious neighbours had run out of their homes and together with others had attempted to put out the fire by throwing buckets of water at it, until the fire crew arrived. They had soon found that it seemed to feed the flames. Instead, they were now trying to bring the belongings from the neighbouring homes to safety.