The House Fire

“There you are! Where have you been?”

“I was in the bathroom, if you have to know.” replied Alan rolling his eyes. “Why?”

“Well, what do you mean by why? The house is on fire. You could’ve been burnt alive!”

“Obviously I wasn’t, was I? Here I stand next to you completely uncharred.”

Edith shook her head violently and looked at the neighbours who were standing in their front yard watching the smoke billowing out of their front door, which Alan had opened when he came walking out as if he was going for a Sunday stroll. “It’s only the oven on fire and I’ve put that out by throwing water on it.”

“Alan!” Edith said out loudly on purpose, to not only get his attention but that of his smiling neighbours, “Alan you don’t throw water on an electrical stove, it can cause an electrical fire.” “Does it matter?” asked Alan, “in all seriousness we already have one.”

Edith wasn’t going to give in to her husband’s warped logic. “Well, the fire brigade is on its way.” “Call them and cancel. But then again on second thoughts, by the time they get here the whole neighbourhood will be on fire.”

His wife who stood there with neighbours who were really just very nosey, had now gathered around Edith in the hope they could witness a fight between husband and wife. Alan sensed that and walked away. But Edith wasn’t ready to let him go.

“Why couldn’t you have just come out of the bathroom?” she asked in desperation.

Alan stopped his little walk towards the front door to make sure the smoke which seemed to have thinned out was in fact going out. “Dressed in what?” he shouted back and then stopped for a second.

“You and your antiquated British Empire beliefs!” Edith was mad at him, and the neighbours loved it.

Throughout the years they had lived on that secluded tree lined avenue with its airs and graces, Alan and Edith were the only neighbours in the neighbourhood who never seemed to be annoyed at each other. This was a first and everyone who knew them, wanted to be there for this momentous occasion. Alan was well aware of this, but it seemed that Edith either wasn’t or didn’t care. The latter was most people’s guesses. “In your pyjamas!” she shouted at him.

“Really?” asked Alan stunned at the transformation his wife had undergone in matter of about two hours since they got up out of bed and had given each other a kiss good morning. “You wanted me to come out in my pyjamas and look like him?” he was getting annoyed now and as he completed his sentence, he pointed to one of his neighbours who was dressed in a pair of what Alan thought were rags that barely covered any of his body. “Or him?” continued Alan not content with having destroyed one neighbour. The one he now pointed to was dressed in what seemed to be just his underwear. “No thank you!” ended Alan and resumed his walk. He took a deep breath and walked back into the house.

Edith stood there with the rest of the neighbourhood, with the exception of the two men who Alan had pointed out and who once they became the centre of attention quickly exited, waiting to see if she would soon be a widow or not. A few minutes later Alan who now not only had his pyjamas on and a dressing gown, but yes as a nod to the fading British Empire wearing a cravat his mother had made for him out of an old dressing gown when he was a child. At the age of 46, he still had it. “Is that what you went in for?” shouted Edith who couldn’t believe he had done that.

“What’s wrong with that?” he asked, “I was well brought up and oh yes by the way, the electrical fire is out. It seems my water did extinguish it.” The neighbourhood turned around. They could hear the fire engine. In defiance, Alan crossed his arms and stood in front of his door. A few moments later the fire engine made its noisy and gaudy appearance on Laurel Avenue and before it came to a screeching halt some testosterone laden men jumped off the engine and ran towards where Alan was standing.

“Which house is on fire?” asked one of them. Alan thought that question to be hilarious. But knowing that sometime in the future he might really need them he decided to enlighten them. “My electrical stove caught fire, but I’ve put it out and with the exception of blackened walls and burnt oatmeal there’s no other damage.”

They insisted on inspecting the house and Alan walked over to his wife who was, though she would never admit it, glad she still had a husband. “You know,” she began as the large group of neighbours thinned out to the most ardent ones, “you know your parents are wonderful people. Your behaviour harkens back to when your father was a General in the army, when Britain had an Empire. But those days are now gone and it’s time for you to embrace the 21st century.”

Alan looked at Edith because he really didn’t understand a word she had said. “You mean that the upbringing I received should be discarded?”

“Maybe,” she replied. Edith had long felt that her husband needed to acknowledge the fact that the British Empire was no longer around and should adjust his behaviour accordingly. “For instance, when you boil water for the tea in the morning and evening. It’s not good enough that as soon as the water boils it must be poured into the pot. It has to remain boiling until a higher pitched whistle sounds. And if I want to put my milk in my teacup after the tea has been poured, then I shouldn’t have to feel that’s the wrong way to do things.” Edith continued for a few minutes longer listing the things that Alan did that he learnt from his mother and father, but as she continued, the remaining neighbours around her began to drift away and suddenly it dawned on her what she had spent the last five minutes doing. She abruptly stopped and took in a deep breath.

The last of the burly firemen had got back on the fire engine and began to retreat from the scene. Edith was wearing her long red nightgown with large yellow flowers all over it and a light blue shawl thrown over her shoulders, presents from her husband on their 25 wedding anniversary. She walked over to Alan who stood a few feet away and slid her arms around his waist. She stood there for a few seconds accumulating her thoughts. “But you know what Alan, don’t you ever change anything you’ve been doing for all these years. After all, it’s because of those things that I fell in love with you.”

Alan put his arms around Edith and pulled her closer to him. The last of the neighbours had closed their doors behind them. Alan and Edith began walking slowly towards their front door. “Can we still have a cup of tea?” she asked. Alan smiled and they closed the door behind them.