We have just had a near miss.

My neighbour popped in about her sick leave and as she was leaving we both smelled smoke.

'It must be the wood fire next door', she suggested.

But the smell was strongest in the hallway so I investigated further and found that in the garage the box containing ashes was giving off smoke. The cardboard  box where Bear puts the ashes had actually disappeared, leaving a square pile of cinders. There was evidence of a fire in the form of black stains up the white bricks and two coats hanging above had kind of melted.

The grey heap was still smouldering so I called Bear as calmly as I could. If the Whale had any idea what was going on he'd have panicked - big time.

Bear wetted an old towel and put it over the 'fire' and then went to look for a metal container to transfer the heap outside, leaving me in charge. I had to pour quite a lot more water over it as the towel was beginning to get singed, so there was a horribly muddy mess by the time Bear came back.

We cleared up the worst and will sweep up the rest when it is dry, before washing the floor.

I now find the last two lines of 'London's Burning' keep going round in my head:

Fire fire! fire fire!

Pour on water, pour on water. . . . .