Falling for her Mediterranean Boss. Anne Fraser

people pushed past. The girl was conscious, but in need of help.

      ‘Are you okay?’ she asked. The girl nodded, looking up at Julie with a tear-stained face. ‘I think so, but someone stood on my ankle.’ She sat up and clutched her right foot, clearly in pain.

      Bracing herself, Julie pulled the injured clubber to her feet. ‘Can you walk on it?’

      The girl tried, testing her weight, but Julie had to catch her as her ankle gave way.

      ‘Lean against me, I’ll help you,’ she said. Before she could begin to shuffle her towards the exit, Pierre appeared by her side. Julie had never been so glad to see anyone in her life.

      ‘I’ll take her,’ he shouted in her ear. ‘Follow me.’ Then he scooped the frightened girl into his arms and headed towards the exit. Julie watched his retreating back for a second, before turning and heading back against the flow of bodies still pushing their way out. However much every nerve in her body was telling her to get out, there was no way she could leave while there were still people inside. She had almost reached the rear of the room, where Richard’s group had been sitting, when she found herself face to face with Susan, one of the youngest of Richard’s friends.

      ‘Susan, Are you all right? Why haven’t you got out? Where’s everyone else?’

      Susan eyes darted from side to side. She looked terrified. ‘They’re all out, except Martha. She went to the toilet shortly before the alarm went off. I don’t want to leave without her. Please, help me find her!’ She clutched at Julie, her voice catching on a sob. ‘She must be around here somewhere!’

      ‘Slow down, Susan.’ Julie grasped the young girl by the shoulders, forcing her to look directly into her eyes. ‘Tell me where you’ve looked.’

      ‘Everywhere. I don’t know where she could be!’ Susan coughed. The smoke was getting thicker, making it difficult to see. On the far side of the room Julie could see flames leaping towards the roof. She knew it wouldn’t be long before the building was completely ablaze.

      ‘Don’t worry, I’ll find her. You get out.’ She shoved Susan in the direction of the exit. Then she lifted the bottom of her T-shirt and covered her mouth. It wouldn’t be much protection against the smoke, but it might buy her a few minutes. Julie was relieved to hear sirens in the distance. The rescue services were on their way.

      The main dancing area was almost empty, most of the revellers having made it outside. However, even in the smoke-filled atmosphere Julie could make out at least two bodies lying on the floor. For a moment she hesitated. What should she do? Continue to look for Martha, or help the victims on the floor? The fire had already spread alarmingly in the short period of time she had been talking to Susan and tongues of crimson flames were now creeping towards the bodies. There was a good chance Martha was outside and safe. But unless she did something for the collapsed victims, they would be in danger of being consumed by the fire. She couldn’t afford to wait for the firefighters. Before she could act, her attention was drawn by movement towards the rear of the room. The DJ was trying desperately to beat out flames that were licking up his arms. For a moment their eyes held. Julie had never seen such abject terror before. His attempts to extinguish the flames were proving futile, and Julie could see that in the short time she had stood, horror-struck, they had spread from his arms across his chest. It was clear that unless someone did something, and quickly, the DJ would have no chance.

      Realising that she had only a few seconds at the most, she rushed towards him. She had only taken a couple of steps when felt herself yanked backwards. She was swung around to face Pierre.

      ‘I thought you were following me out!’ he said, his accent more evident than ever. Even in the dim, smoke-filled light Julie could see his eyes glinting with anger.

      She wrenched her arm out of his grasp.

      ‘Let me go!’ She pointed over to the DJ who had fallen to the floor. ‘I need to help him!’

      Pierre took in the situation at a glance. ‘You get the others, I’ll get him.’ Before Julie had a chance to protest he was moving towards the stricken man. Whipping off his jacket, he wrapped it around the DJ and rolled him around to smother the flames.

      Tearing her eyes away from the two men, Julie hurried over to the inert form of a female clubber lying on the floor. The girl was barely conscious and Julie knew she had to move her out of the reach of the fire. Blocking out the terrifying crackling of the flames, Julie put her arms under the girl’s armpits and started dragging her across the floor. It was hard going. The limp body was deadweight and the smoke was beginning to make breathing almost impossible. But then, just as she thought she could go no further, firemen in their full firefighting gear appeared and relieved Julie of her burden. Gesticulating towards the exit, it was clear that they were ordering Julie out of the building.

      ‘Help them!’ She pointed to the DJ and Pierre, her eyes streaming. Thank God, the flames that had been licking the DJ’s torso appeared to be almost out. Julie was finding it difficult to speak and her chest hurt. ‘And there’s someone else that needs help over there.’

      One of the firemen nodded and made for the other victim while another firefighter grasped her arm and propelled her out of the building. She tried to resist, not wanting to leave until she was sure Pierre and the other casualties were all right, but she was no match for the burly firefighter.

      Outside, the shock of freezing night air made Julie gasp. Bending over, she rested her hands on her knees for the few moments it took for her to stop coughing and for her eyes to stop streaming. Dazed, she looked up and could barely comprehend the scene before her. It was reminiscent of footage of disasters she had seen on television. At least four fire engines lit the area in swirling patterns of red and blue. Numerous clubbers stood around, looking shocked and bewildered. Several more were sitting on the ground, struggling for breath or sobbing quietly. Snow had started to fall in large wet drops, but everyone seemed oblivious to it. As her laboured breathing normalised, Pierre swept past her, carrying the unconscious figure of the DJ in his arms. In the moving beams of light from the emergency vehicles Julie could see that the DJ was badly burnt. Pierre would need her help. She quickly checked the other victims, breathing a sigh of relief that no one appeared seriously hurt. Leaving them, she hurried over to Pierre, who had laid the DJ down on a grassy verge a safe distance from the burning building. Swallowing her horror at the extent of the injured man’s burns, she dropped to her knees.

      ‘What do you want me to do?’ she asked Pierre as she searched for the DJ’s carotid pulse.

      Pierre glanced at her. ‘Go and get yourself checked out,’ he said roughly.

      ‘I’m okay,’ she fired back, shouting to make herself heard above the sounds of the sirens.

      He looked at her sharply, his blue eyes drilling into hers. ‘I don’t have time to argue,’ he said, lowering his head and beginning to breathe for his patient.

      Finding what she was looking for, a faint but discernible pulse, Julie knew that they had to get some oxygen into his lungs and some fluids into his veins as quickly as possible.

      ‘I’ll get help,’ she said, scrambling to her feet. ‘Someone must have emergency supplies.’ As she stood, an ambulance pulled up, its flashing blue lights adding to the red pulses of the fire engines, making it all seem even more surreal. Thank God, Julie thought. There was little she and Pierre could do for the DJ without medical equipment. Almost before the paramedics were out of the ambulance, Julie was by their side. She pointed to Pierre and the inert form of the DJ. ‘Over there! They need oxygen and a drip, and any other medical equipment you might have. Stat.’ The paramedics nodded and, gathering their loaded bags, rushed across to Pierre. Another couple of ambulances pulled up, their sirens cutting the cold night air, their occupants leaping out ready to offer aid.

      As Julie turned back towards Pierre, Susan and Richard ran across to her.

      ‘We’ve got Martha and everyone else. Are you all right?’ the young girl asked, her eyes wide. Then she burst into tears.

      ‘Hey,