So… a nice family BBQ was plotted for Bank Holiday Monday. My brother, sister and I would cook and then my Mum and Stepdad would come round and eat. It clouded over so I, Ella ‘I feel the cold’ Williamson, suggested we cook everything in the oven and then my brother and sister were going to finish it off on the BBQ so our parents would never know we hadn’t been slaving over hot coal all day. We were all feeling lazy so we decided to pop the mini BBQ on the windowsill. It was pretty smoky so we had all the windows open, but were generally feeling pretty smug about our genius plan.

The doorbell went minutes later and we buzzed our guests up assuming it was the parentals. Imagine our horror when not one, not two, but three firemen in full regalia walked into my brother’s flat and extinguish our BBQ. The neighbours must have been alarmed by the smoke and called the Fire Brigade. We were mortified. The firemen (thankfully) didn’t have any other fires on that afternoon so found the whole thing quite amusing. They even stayed for a photo shoot:


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