The Fire House on Honeysuckle Street
The brand new novel from the author of The Flower Shop on Foxley Street – coming soon!A heartwarming, uplifting new novel from Rachel Dove. Perfect for fans of Cathy Bramley and Heidi Swain.Readers LOVE Rachel Dove:'Whenever I pick up a book by Rachel Dove I know that there will be engaging characters along with a story that has warmth, humour and heartwarming vibes''an entertaining and wonderful story''Great read and a great ending''I loved it so much I sat up half the night to finish it.'
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RACHEL LOUISE DOVE is a mum of two from Yorkshire. She has always loved writing and has had previous success as a self-published author. Rachel is the winner of the Mills & Boon & Prima Magazine Flirty Fiction competition and won The Writers Bureau Writer of the Year Award in 2016. She is a qualified adult education tutor specialising in child development and autism. In 2018 she founded the Rachel Dove Bursary, giving one working class writer each year a fully funded place on the Romantic Novelists’ Association New Writer’s Scheme.
‘Whenever I pick up a book by Rachel Dove, I know that there will be engaging characters along with a story that has warmth, humour and heartwarming vibes’
‘An entertaining and wonderful story’
‘Great read and a great ending’
‘I loved it so much, I sat up half the night to finish it’
The Chic Boutique on Baker Street
The Flower Shop on Foxley Street
The Long Walk Back
The Wedding Shop on Wexley Street
The Fire House on Honeysuckle Street
RACHEL DOVE
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2019
Copyright © Rachel Dove 2019
Rachel Dove asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © May 2019 ISBN: 9780008312688
Version: 2019-04-08
Table of Contents
Dedicated to my gorgeous, clever and unique sons,
Book Worm and Little Man.
And to all the Mama and Papa Bears out there –
keep fighting and keep smiling.
By the time the first alarm had sounded, Samuel Draper was already up, out of his bunk and running full pelt to his gear and the rig. His firefighter comrades were hot on his heels, all snapping into action the second the bell sounded. A mere few seconds after that and they were on the truck, peeling out of Euston Fire Station at speed.
‘House fire, Guildford Street. Originated in the kitchen. Suspected hob fire. All residents are out of the property, but it’s going up fast.’ Robert rattled off the details as they navigated their way through the streets of London towards their shout. Sam nodded, pulling on his helmet, ready. ‘Understood. Robert, you and I will do front door. Lenny, you head round the back. Assess any damage, check for hazards and stray looky-loos.’
‘Okay, ETA six minutes. You glad to be back?’
Sam flashed his colleague and friend a smile. ‘I’m going back, two weeks.’
Robert’s face dropped in surprise. ‘Back up there? What for, midwife school?’
Lenny, looking as big and burly as ever behind the wheel of the fire engine, laughed out loud as they sat in the back.
‘Good one, Rob. Why are you going back? Got something going on up there?’
Sam didn’t answer, just nodded in his usual quiet way. Lenny and Robert knew not to bother pressing him. Sam wasn’t a gossip, or one to judge anyone else. Whatever he was doing up there, it had to be important to him. Sam never did anything in life without assessing every aspect first. It made him the skilled firefighter he was, and he had all the lads’ unconditional trust the minute he walked through the door on his first shift, all those years ago. The only real thing that had altered was his hairline. When they did school visits, the others liked to joke that his mop of dark curls had been singed off – frazzled off in a fireball. The kids loved it. Sam, not so much.
They got to the shout in record time, putting out the small pan fire and comforting the understandably very frightened residents. These were the best calls, the best outcomes. Quick in and out, put the fire out and have no casualties or structural damage. A new pan or two, a lick of paint and the memory would be washed away, freshened up, made anew. The lads all knew from experience that it could have been far worse than a scorched splashback and smoke damage. Before long, they were heading back home to the station.
