The emergency call comes when I least expect it.

One moment, I'm dunking my sweet custard cream into a mug full of tea and the next moment the shrill, fateful ring of the telephone coming from the lobby of the fire station. Before I know it, my supervivor has swept me away from my precious moment of repose, and I'm frantically putting on my heavy uniform (the sweltering heat seeping in from outside as the door begins to be opened does not help this). As the fire engine is revved up, I clamber into the back seat, sitting beside my friend who I barely even noticed in the frenzy of this all. We both stare at each other blankly, thinking what I believe is the same thing. We're both in the last month of our apprenticeship, and the fact that we've been called on means that our bosses sitting in front of us are going to be watching us, taking note of our every move in this real-life case.

After ten minutes of sirens, sitting tight and driving speedily past compliant traffic, we arrive at the house from where 999 was called, which is expectedly ablaze, a huge flush of vibrant reds and oranges which surround the terraced home in which it's been reported someone is trapped.

The four of us leap out of our vehicle, hoses and helmets in hand, as we begin to enter the burning home, instinctively intent in stopping this flame before it can cause too much harm. I recognise the loud, female voice of my supervisor commanding us over the cacophony of burning embers.

"Right, Lieutenant Peters, Blackmore, survey the ground floor. Try and find the cause of the fire and stop as much of it as you can. Davies, you and I can go upstairs."

I nod slightly to respond to her instruction, before following her at a quick jog, climbing the narrow staircase to arrive at the landing, taking one last look at my friend who's got me through the last two years. Molly Blackmore, a girl I know deep down could never see again if we fail this.

I take a glance around me and realise my supervisor has already started work in the master bedroom, as I notice her blonde, tight ponytail in the distance.

I decide the best thing to do is turn in the opposite direction. Perhaps I'll check if the source is in the bathroom or one of the smaller rooms. And that's when I hear it.

Somebody is pounding on the walls of what must be an airing cabinet, and as soon as I hear a scream which follows from within, I'm running right over there. Powered with a rush of adrenaline and a surging throb of human desire to save and succeed in doing so, I kick down the door and my well-built strength makes it topple easily. I reach my hands out to the cowering figure and I'm relieved as I know they can be saved.

I gasp and notice there is a small candle which has toppled over in the cupboard and in the blink of an eye my hose is aimed at what probably started the fire and its glow fades into nothing as a sense of proudness overcomes me. We have the victim. I just need to get them out of here, reassure them - her, and I could even get promoted!

My joy is cut short as I realise that this person, a girl of about my age, is unconscious. My mind flickers back to my months of training in first aid. My hands lock together in a rigid clasp and I'm pumping down at her chest. It's so thankful I know how to do CPR. After around ten minutes of this my hands become weary and I decide to take a break, switching on my walkie talkie to talk to my team.

"Is that Mike Peters? Yes, I've got the victim, just performing CPR. Seems to be in improving condition. I've luckily stopped the source of the fire too-"

"Sorry Davies. We'll come up here and help in the minute. We're just dealing with some destruction in the kitchen, the fire's shut off all electrical power to the appliances-"

Just like that, the radio connection dissipates. We've been cut off.

I turn back to the girl I'm trying to save. I then try and take a closer look at her face, but it is all covered up with her messy dark-brown fringe and coated in a thick layer of soot. But I know everyone is deserving of another chance. So I continue the CPR relentlessly, and soon I am pleasantly surprised and overwhelmed with consolation - her breath comes back in a splutter, her eyes subsequently open and she raises her hand to brush back the soot, revealing them to be stunningly blue.

"Hello?"

"Hi!" I exclaim happily. Then I realise I need to be professional.

"Dara Davies, apprentice firefighter from the police department. I.. I think I've just saved your life."

She stares at me in awe for a few moments before unexpectedly bringing me in for a warm hug, warmer than the raging fire my colleagues are trying so hard to quell downstairs. My mind snaps back.

"Can I get you a cold towel to wash your face? Should I bring you some new clothes to change into?"

Her head nods slightly, as I rush off to the nearest bedroom, throwing open a wardrobe which is beginning to cool down. I grab a T-Shirt and shorts which hadn't yet succumbed to the fire and take a wet flannel from the en-suite bathroom.

I hurry over to the girl and hand her the towel, she begins to wipe her face. But when I offer her the fresh clothes, she unexpectedly shakes her head.

"I don't need them, thank you though."

My expression becomes confused. I've not closely looked at the clothes she's in but they can't have fared well if she was literally locked in with the source of the fire.

But when I take a glance, I'm even more surprised. The jacket she's wearing is slightly singed, but not at all burnt. Unscathed. Upon closer inspection, it looks to be the same material as the fireproof coats us firefighters wear. But how could she know a fire was going to happen? No. Se couldn't know. She's just an innocent girl, it must have been some kind of coincidence-

But when my eyes wander to her free hand which isn't wiping her face, my fears are confirmed. She's holding a match.

My relief and sincere pride I felt for saving somebody leaves me in an instant. No, this isn't a victim. This person started the fire. I stagger a few steps back, heart pounding in my chest. How naive was I to assume that this was an innocent I was dealing with? She stands up too, revealing us to be the same height, meaning we are now eye to eye. Icy blue to hazel. Where do I recognise those eyes from?

My mind flashes back to when I was sitting in the fire station, with my tea and custard cream, before this all happened. There was a newspaper open on the table, and on the front page:

"Reward of £10000 for capture of woman known as 'Ice-cold Arsonist', currently on run from police." That girl had reportedly killed over ten people by arson. She was a deranged murderer, described to have piercing blue eyes as cold as ice and dark brown hair. Those eyes were the ones which I stared into now.

My legs naturally begin to run away, as I become overcome with guilt - why did I save this criminal? But in my hand the walkie talkie buzzed sharply before I heard Mike's familiar voice.

"We've got the fire mainly dealt with down here, the electricity seems to be back in order, luckily. We're just joining you now."

I go and shelter in a corner, as far as I can get from the murderer. No, I won't tell the team yet. She might hear...

As I reach the end of the corridor I reach the house's main bathroom, and I swing open the door to find a sorry sight. The room's walls are made, or at least were made, of white marble, but it is now blackened by the inferno. In the middle of the room stand my colleages: Molly, seeming distraught, standing alongside Mike, and my boss who looks at me scornfully and says

"Davies, I thought you said earlier you were looking after this victim, that their condition was improving? I don't understand how you could have abandoned him. We've just checked... there's no pulse. You could've saved him from whoever did this."

My mouth gapes open in shock. What have I done? What the fuck have I done?

The figure of the Ice-Cold arsonist is nowhere to be seen, but I see her in my mind and I'm sure I'll see her soon in my nightmares. It's as if she is telling me "Stupid little Dara. You were unprofessional enough to choose to save the wrong life."