Those words were ones he'd remember a long time from now. With the benefit of hindsight provided by time, Joe would remember certain things: the iron grip of excitment in his chest, the stonework and opposite shop glass bathed in an angry orange light, his quiet swears, and silent prayers. A charged hose was heavy and wet like a leaden rope, ready to use, all they had to do was open the door of the print shop and make it rain.

It wasn't long before your he was ready to go into the burning building. What complete and utter psychopath would do this kind of thing.....oh wait a moment...them. he shook the thoughts from his mind and pulled his gloves on for what he hoped wouldn't be the last time. He cracked his neck and rotated his shoulders. It was time to do what the do best. Joe was a good kid. He knew his stuff and ruadhan felt comfortable giving the kid the lead. He stepped up to the door and supported the hose behind Joe. "On your go!"

"Okay" Joe replied weakly, his fear and nerves very close to the surface. Picking up the heavy hose, he stooped into a half crouch and scuttled towards the blaze, dragging it behind. What sort of a madman ran into a burning building..? Oh wait. The brickwork adjacent to the front door raidiated a heat that was a little too hot for comfort. The door wouldn't budge with the shove of an elbow or a gloved hand, so Joe did the next best thing. He sat his arse down at an angle to the door and gave it swift kicking.

"Open Sesame!" He shouted ironically echoing something he'd heard in the music hall last year. The door obliged, but the sudden addition of oxygen boiled and flashed the atmosphere inside; flames instantly and angrily rolled up through the open door and out skyward. The heat gave him some idea of what it might be like to a Christmas roast.

"Water!" He shouted. Like a knight of old, but with a liquid sword, he was now joined in battle.

Ruadhán was through the door behind Joe. The flames were increasing. He tapped on Joe's shoulder to get his attention then spoke "careful with the water. Don't go too mad with it. It will increase the temperature in here three fold and cook is so be cautious"

He looked around him and shielded his face from the flame with the back of his hand. The heat was intense but nothing as bad has he had experienced prior. It was a good one for Joe to be in and show what he's made of us. Ruadhan started to manage the hose and guide it in the direction they were headed. He looked once more to Joe "you ok there?"

The commotion across the bridge had drawn Bill and his mates out of the Golden Lion that evening. There was a fire in the Whitby Gazette press office, someone had shouted and in a matter of seconds the pub had emptied. They could see the smoke already billowing above the houses. Flames were visible from upper windows above the crowd. That fire was spreading fast.

With drink still in hand, the men made their way across the bridge to watch the spectacle. Bill's slightly inebriated mind did not consider that Joe had joined the fire brigade and would be called upon until he had pushed his way to the front of the crowd and saw his youngest son don a helmet and disappear inside the burning building. "Joe!" he called out and he tried to push through the police cordon helpfully.