AUTHOR BIO.  

JAMIE CAMPBELL was born in Cowra NSW on the 3^rd June 1982, joining 4 older sisters and 1 older brother.

Her love of writing started in primary school and continued on throughout high school. She won ‘Book of the Year’ award in eighth grade and was hooked.

She grew up in Port Macquarie before moving to the Gold Coast in 2001 where she studied for a Bachelor of Business degree at Southern Cross University while working as an Accountant in public practice. After graduating in 2003, she continued her study with the Institute of Chartered Accountants in Australia to gain her CA qualification.

Ashes to Ashes is her first published book.

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Prologue 

“Get out it’s going to come down!” The men of fire department 316 scrambled out of the once small, modest house in Savoy Street, heaving the water hoses and puffing for breath. They had been trying for almost an hour to put out the blazing inferno that lit up the sky as if it was daytime.

Suddenly the whole roof caved in with a thunderous crack. The head of the fire crew did a quick head count to double check that none of his men were still inside the house. He gave a relieved sigh when all men were present and accounted for. The wind that had followed a thunderstorm earlier that afternoon had really picked up now and was fanning the flames. Tonight was not the night that they needed to be out fighting fires.

Underneath an elm tree in the front yard, huddled together and sobbing, were two little girls. One thirteen, the other only eleven. Sisters, Lucy and Jasmine Parker, had been lucky to escape the fire. They were awoken by the putrid smell of smoke and crawled out of their bedrooms into the safety of the front yard. Running through their minds were thoughts that their parents were going to follow them. Maybe they had even already fled.

Out in the cold night, standing in the garden they waited anxiously, clinging to each other for support. Minutes seemed like hours as they watched the front door and the windows, waiting to see the faces of the two people that were their entire world. Their neighbours ran into the street in panic – the roar of the fire and the crackling of the burning house had disturbed their sleep. Half were concerned about the Parker family, the other half nervous about their own homes suffering the same fate from stray embers.

It had seemed like the fire department had been slow to arrive. Maybe it was the girls altered state of reality or maybe there was another fire across town that needed their attention. Either way, the house was almost destroyed by the time that they had arrived.

The men went through the motions of trying to put out the fire; however, it was mainly just for show. They knew that there was little they could do. If there were anyone left inside, well, there would not be much left of them.

“Come on girls – we’ve got to get you out of here.” Sergeant Larson had knelt down to the girls’ height and spoke in a soft voice to them, unable to convey the emotions that he felt. He pulled a blanket around their shoulders and ushered them towards the police car.

“NO! We have to wait for Mum and Dad, they’re coming soon,” Jasmine yelped. She stood her ground and kept watching the front of the house as if it was still possible that her parents could walk out at any time. The three of them stood there for a while longer until dawn started to break.

“Jaz, we have to go. Mum and Dad will know to come to the police station to look for us. They’ll be mad if we just stand here all night waiting for them.” Lucy tugged on her little sister’s hand until eventually she followed. The realisation that their parents had not been able to follow them was incomprehensible, yet a part of Lucy was already resigned to this unavoidable fact – she just didn’t know how to tell Jasmine that.

¨

 Chapter 1

“Miss Parker, will you please step into my office. I need to talk to you.”

Jasmine rolled her eyes and spun around in her chair to face the big boss of them all, Adam Denver. A closed-door discussion with her boss was definitely not what Jasmine needed today of all days. Her morning had started out well; she woke up and had breakfast as normal, the drive to work was incident free and most of the traffic lights had turned green as she approached them. However, as soon as she had sat down in front of her computer and looked at the date, her stomach had dropped.

Today was the thirteenth anniversary of her parents’ death. Yes, today was not a good day for a closed-door discussion.

“Please close the door and take a seat.” Jasmine followed the orders obediently and sat facing Adam. He wasn’t much to look at, not old, probably about forty-three, but going balder by the day. Jasmine always put Adam’s hereditary hair loss down to karma. What a better way to get back at a man for being too vain, than to slowly remove his hair, strand by strand. It would be like removing the crown from the king of the castle’s head.

The office that Adam occupied was clearly his castle. On one wall hung all his various qualifications; Masters Degree of Business, Honours Degree in Management, even a ‘World’s Best Golfer’ certificate awarded by his children. Jasmine doubted whether they had been impartial judges.

The other wall held a bookcase full of impressive looking books that no one could ever have had the time to read – especially when you were the world’s best golfer. Behind all these were four walls of predictable beige, the colour you would expect to find in every other office building. This was definitely an office like every other accountant’s office. Adam may have been the director of the largest public accounting firm in the area, but he couldn’t think outside the box.

“I’m worried about our budgets. Your performance has not exactly been outstanding. You know our business is run based on time and productivity. An unproductive team member is just dead weight to this business. We’ve also had a few complaints from clients about you. Did you really call Leonie Schwarz a Nazi? Do I need to remind you that our clients are our business? Without clients, there is no Apacho & Sons which means you don’t have a job!”

“Leonie Schwarz is a Nazi, sir, but let’s put that aside; what do you want me to improve? Should I maybe stop taking lunch breaks? Food is for wimps anyway. This would also solve the bathroom breaks. Or maybe I should just work until later? Who needs sleep anyway?” Jasmine was speaking as if she were deadly serious about her suggestions. There was not even a slight hint of sarcasm in her voice. This always infuriated Adam but he was never quick enough to think of an adequate response.

“I don’t think that is quite necessary but I would like to see your productivity improve. Remember, we need to measure it in order to improve it. I think you should start to make changes now and we will discuss how you’re going in say, one month’s time.” Jasmine got up from her chair and headed for the door, vowing to herself that the only change she would start to make was to begin searching for a new job.

“And please, try to restrain yourself from calling anyone else a Nazi!”

Jasmine closed the door behind her, ignoring Adam’s last comment. She knew she was damn good at her job and if she lost a client here and there because they were arrogant or crazy, then so be it. What management always failed to notice were the hundreds of happy clients that she kept. Instead, they preferred to notice the small few that hated her enough to complain to Adam.

“Maybe I would be more productive if I was left alone and not called into Adam’s office every other day,” she mumbled to herself as she arrived back at her desk. There was no castle for Jasmine to call her own, just a desk and a computer. No photographs or personal mementos littered her cubicle. Just a stapler, calculator and pens. She picked up one of the pens and got back to work.

“Jaz, here’s today’s mail.” A large stack of paper was placed on her desk looking as ominous as ever. However, something unusual caught her eye, an unopened envelope marked ‘Private and confidential’. Usually mail was opened by the receptionist, but they had obviously heeded the warning on this envelope. She opened the letter and began reading the neatly typed print. There wasn’t much to it: 

‘The fire was NOT an accident. Whatever you believe, it’s WRONG!’ 

Jasmine dropped the letter, thoughts racing through her mind. What did it mean? Was it about the fire that had killed both her parents thirteen years ago today? Who sent it? And the biggest question of all – why?

Reeling from the letter, Jasmine grabbed her handbag and headed out for an early lunch break. Not that food would settle her churning stomach; it was the fresh air she was aching for. The letter had stirred up all the memories of the night that she had tried to suppress. The smell of the smoke, and not being able to breathe in fresh air, waiting outside for her parents to emerge from the fire, the heat of the flames as it tore apart their house, losing everything she ever owned and cherished in one night. Yes, fresh air is exactly what she needed right now.

Standing outside in the busy courtyard, she tried her best to act as casually as possible. Smiling and nodding to her colleagues as they entered and exited the building. She didn’t confide in many people in her life, not even half of the people she called friends knew everything about her past. Losing her parents had been something that she considered a private matter and sharing the memories was just too painful to have to recount to others. That was something that she kept locked away inside herself.

She pulled the letter out from her pocket and re-read it over and over again. She had confirmed with Katie, the receptionist, on her way out that it had arrived by mail and not been hand delivered. So that offered no clues about who had sent it. If the fire wasn’t an accident, then what was it? Surely, her parents would not have deliberately started a fire just to commit suicide. If it wasn’t them, then who was it? Why would anyone want to kill her family? After all, it was lucky that her sister Lucy and herself had escaped. Had someone wanted to kill all of them?

‘Great, a child killing maniac,’ Jasmine thought to herself. ‘Killing families, just for the sake of it.’ With no answers coming to mind, the letter was replaced in its envelope and she went reluctantly back to work. Staring at the letter would not reveal the truth; she would have to discover the answers herself. She needed to share the note with someone, someone who would understand; she called Lucy.

“Luce, how are you?”

“Pretty good, how about yourself Jaz?”

“Good. Hey, something weird happened today. I was wondering if anything strange has happened to you?”

“No, not at all, what happened?” her voice was full of concern for her little sister.

“I got a note delivered to me at work. It said that the fire wasn’t an accident and that we had the wrong information about it. What do you think it meant?”

“I don’t know, it’s ridiculous, how dare someone joke like that, the sicko. Someone probably just wanted to freak you out, and today of all days.” Jasmine could hear the tone of Lucy’s voice change to a bitter anger.

“I know; they could have chosen a better day. Do you remember anything being a bit fishy about the fire?” She felt so much better after hearing Lucy say that it was probably just a hoax. She had been trying to tell herself that same thing but she needed to hear it from someone else.

“As far as I’m concerned it was just a horrible accident. You should forget about it, it’s all so long ago now anyway. Tear up the note and move on.” Jasmine got the feeling that Lucy was ready to change the subject. She didn’t sound like she wanted to even ascertain what the note meant any longer. Just ditch it like it never existed. She moved the conversation on to other subjects and let it rest.

Later that night, long after Jasmine had gone to bed, she was still staring at the darkened ceiling, not being able to sleep and unable to switch her brain off. Her mind drifted back to that night thirteen years ago. 

- ¨ - 

“Goodnight sweetheart, sweet dreams,” Julia Parker gave her daughter a soft kiss on the cheek and pulled the blankets high up to her neck. The wind was making the tree branches scrape across the window outside, adding to the effect that it was going to be a cold windy night.

Julia hesitated for a moment after Jasmine had closed her eyes. She doted on both her daughters, but there was something extra special about her youngest. ‘Maybe it’s because she’s my baby,’ she thought to herself. Her and her husband, John, had decided that they would only have two children. It was a good even number, they had concluded.

As she was leaving, Julia took another glance at her sleeping daughter before turning off the light switch. The room was put into almost darkness; the only light source was the full moon outside.

Jasmine dreamed peacefully, processing the day’s activities until they were safely stored in her memory. She had gone to school and had art classes all afternoon, she had painted a picture of the family and brought it home to proudly show to her parents. Lucy had said it was lame, but she didn’t care, Mum had said that it was fabulous.

A few hours later, her dreams were disturbed by the smell of something. It had filled her lungs until she started coughing. Smoke was creeping into the pink bedroom underneath the closed door. Wisps of black haze wafted upwards towards the ceiling.

Without hesitating, Jasmine pushed back her blankets and sat straight up in bed. She clutched her teddy bear tight in her left hand. She recalled a memory of the day the firemen came and visited the school. They had a saying, what was it again?

“Get down low and go, go, go,” she remembered. She followed their orders and crawled towards the door. She kept getting tangled up in her nightgown. The handle felt warm, but not too hot to touch. She opened the door cautiously and got back down onto the floor again. The hallway was dark, not just because of the smoke but because even the moonlight couldn’t reach that part of the house.

The Parker family had lived in the house for longer than Jasmine had been alive. She knew the layout like the back of her hand. Her bedroom, and that of her sister’s, was closest to the front door. Her parents’ room was closer to the back, next to the kitchen.

Jasmine tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Momentarily disoriented, she started crawling for the front door. She wanted to cry out for someone to help but her tongue was so dry she could hardly open her mouth. The taste of smoke and ash was bitter. Years later, this taste would still sometimes appear out of nowhere, when Jasmine was eating something.

Lucy emerged from her room just as Jasmine had reached the living room. The two girls stayed close until they were able to open the front door and escape into the night. They left the door open for their parents to follow.
 

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