Everything was gone
Last christmas, she lost her home... but Natalie Proud, 30, from county Durham, still has what counts
Heat from the fire hit my face. In just a matter of minutes, it had spread
Sneaking into the kitchen on tiptoes, I slowly opened a top cupboard and crammed in a carrier bag. Inside was a Barbie doll, a mobile phone and a teddy bear – the last of my kids’ Christmas presents.
It was the beginning of December 2017 and I’d been saving and buying their gifts gradually since January. Stashing them away in secret.
A single mum to four kids, it was the only way to make sure they all got what they wanted.
Finally, I’m done, I thought, shoving a couple of school shirts in the washing machine and creeping back into the living room.
All four of my girls, Becky, 12, Katie, 8, Gemma, 5, and Sophie, 4, were stretched out on the sofa and floor watching Home Alone.
Our pet Chihuahua Jemz was sitting on Becky’s lap, while our black and white cat Milo slept peacefully under the Christmas tree.
We were having the perfect festive Sunday afternoon.
‘Ah, it looks so lovely in here,’ I smiled, settling down beside Sophie.
I loved this time of year. And I couldn’t wait to see my girls’ faces when they opened their presents.
Only, at around 2pm, 10
minutes after I’d sat down, Katie began wriggling beside me. ‘What’s that smell?’ she frowned, sniffing the air. ‘I can’t smell anything,’ I replied, puzzled. ‘It smells like burning,’ she went on.
I pulled off the blanket Sophie and I had been huddling under and went back into the kitchen. Now I could smell it, too. I could hear the washing machine spinning.
Opening the laundry-room door, I gasped.
Red flames were flying off the top of the washing machine. And thick smoke was floating up to the ceiling.
For a moment, I froze to the spot.
‘Fire!’ I choked, marching back into the living room. ‘All of you, get out.’ ‘What?’ said Becky. ‘Quickly!’ I screamed. ‘Fire!’ I grabbed my mobile from my pocket, dialled 999.
‘Fire!’ I screamed to the operator, giving her my address.
The girls looked terrified, started crying.
I grabbed them by the arms, led them all out.
‘What about our shoes?’ said Katie as they passed the shoe rack in the hall.
‘There’s no time,’ I urged. ‘All of you, get outside.’
The girls, in their onesies, stumbled out on to the street.
Jemz stood at their feet as they huddled together, shivering. Cold air turning their breath into vapour.
But as I turned towards the kitchen, the heat from the fire hit my face instantly.
In just a matter of minutes it had already spread. Thick black smoke surrounded me.
Coughing, I staggered outside.
‘My teddy!’ sobbed Gemma, as we watched huge plumes of smoke rise up from the back of the house.
She’d had her Peter Rabbit cuddly toy since she was a baby. Never let it out of her sight. I was sure I’d seen it beside her on the sofa.
It must still be there.
The flames were still contained in the kitchen, so taking a deep breath, I shot back inside, covering my mouth with my jumper.
I coughed as the smoke filled my lungs.
Quickly scanning the living room, I saw Gemma’s teddy and grabbed it.
As I dashed out, I spotted Sophie’s pink snuggle blanket on the floor, black with smoke. I picked it up and ran. But as soon as I got outside again, Katie started wailing. ‘Mum!’ she cried. ‘Milo!’ ‘Oh, my God!’ I gasped, realising Milo was still inside.
Without thinking, I shot back into the house.
I had to save our beloved cat. Desperate, I looked around the blackened hallway for the little white mark on Milo’s face.
I called for him, couldn’t see him anywhere.
Suddenly, I heard a piercing shattering sound.
The kitchen window had smashed in the heat.
I have to get out! I shuddered. I went back outside, sobbing. By now, a crowd had gathered around the girls.
We all stood there, helplessly, in the street, watching our rented home burn.
Then, sirens, flashing lights... And, suddenly, firefighters
‘Mummy can replace possessions but I can’t ever replace you...’
were everywhere. ‘Please, my cat...’ I begged as a firefighter ran towards the house. Police put up blue tape, made us all stand across the road.
By now, the house was engulfed in flames. Minutes later, the fireman I’d seen earlier came over. ‘We’ve seen your cat,’ he said. ‘But we can’t get to him.’ Terrified, Milo had run upstairs and was now hiding under Katie’s bed.
I broke down.
Only, then, I saw a fireman coming out of my front door. Clutching our cat by the scruff of his neck!
‘Milo! Milo!’ the girls cried. ‘Oh!’ I gasped, rushing forward to take him.
Milo was shaking and hissing, fluid dripping from his nose and mouth.
But he was alive.
Just then, my brother Rick, 37, pulled up in his car.
I’d phoned him, begging for help.
‘Get the kids away,’ I told him. He bundled the girls, Jemz and Milo into his car.
‘I want to stay with you, Mum,’ wept Becky.
‘No, I need to know you’re all safe,’ I told her, giving her a quick kiss.
It was another hour and a half until the firefighters put out the fire.
Only by then, there was nothing left of the house but a blackened shell.
‘The girls’ presents...’ I said as the fireman led me through the hallway later that night. There was nothing left of the kitchen, just ash, melted concrete and steel. Beams from the walls exposed.
I was led up the stairs. I vomited from shock when I walked into the girls’ bedrooms. Everything was charcoal. Teddy bears, toys, the pattern on Gemma’s Frozen duvet cover just a black blob. I salvaged a few photos, the girls’ birth certificates. But that was all.
Our worldly belongings, gone in an instant. And I had no insurance either.
‘At least we have each other,’ I told the girls when I got to my brother’s later that night.
They huddled round me, Jemz at my feet, Milo rubbing against my ankle.
‘When can we go home?’ asked Katie, looking up at me eagerly.
‘Are my things OK?’ asked Becky.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I croaked. ‘But everything’s gone.’
Listening to their desperate tears broke my heart.
We never did find out what caused the blaze. There was too much damage for the fire service to be sure.
So now we faced Christmas homeless, with nothing.
As a student nurse, I didn’t have savings.
Spent everything I had on the girls’ Christmas presents.
Only, friends and family rallied round. Gave us clothes, food, even set up a crowdfunding page.
And, incredibly, a week later, people had donated £1,000.
Enough to put a deposit down on a new rental property.
Parents from the girls’ primary school even donated enough cash to replace the lost presents.
I felt overwhelmed with gratitude.
A week before Christmas, I picked up the girls from school.
‘We’re not going to Rick’s tonight,’ I said, as we walked in the opposite direction.
‘Where are we going, Mummy?’ asked Gemma.
‘Our new home,’ I smiled.
We didn’t have any furniture...it took me a few more days to get beds.
But the girls were ecstatic.
And, that night, my best friend Natalie, 31, turned up with a huge 7ft Christmas tree and a box of decorations.
‘I thought you might need this,’ she said, lugging it inside.
Thanks to the kind donations of family, friends and the local community, me and the girls, Jemz and Milo, spent Christmas Day together in our new home.
‘Mummy can replace possessions, but I can’t ever replace you,’ I told them as we tucked into our turkey.
Despite everything, I felt lucky. I might have learnt the hard way, but Christmas really is the season of goodwill.