by Peter Hall
On their fourth date, following a good meal and a few glasses of wine, Brit suggested it was time for John to show her his chalet. Fortunately, he had prepared for this eventuality by spending hours cleaning and hiding all clues to his geeky nature. Barely had the door closed before she pressed him against the wall and kissed him passionately.
Despite the alcohol in his veins, John panicked, but Brit was experienced and masterful in this area. She played him like a musical instrument—guiding and encouraging every move until they both lay sated and exhausted. It was his second experience with a woman and a universe apart from the twenty minutes in the Pascha.
John was ecstatic and lived for her visits. He had a real life girlfriend, and she was as hot as hell. At the next T.A. weekend, he delighted in boasting and showed her photograph to anyone who could not get away fast enough.
Britney's visits often clashed with T.A. training, so the army saw less of John.
On two occasions, John stayed the weekend with Britney in Bristol, but they were uncomfortable mishaps. Britney had a vast social circle and being with her meant being with her friends. John was ill at ease with group mingling and fitted into Britney’s social life like a turd in a swimming pool.
So they fell into a comfortable routine of meeting every fortnight. Some weekends, they would spend all of Saturday on the beach, or exploring the countryside. Sometimes, it would just be the evening. Usually, there was sex.
The arrangement was perfect for John. Their short time together made it exciting and special. For most of the time, John was free to follow his nerdy interests and routines. Britney’s brief visits filled all his social needs. He wanted it to stay this way forever.
John’s Journal: Age 30
It’s over. Brit’s dumped me. We were having the usual Saturday night meal at The White Hart. Everything seemed fine at first. With hindsight, Brit was acting a bit strange. She drank a lot and seemed to be trying to get me drunk as well. I hoped she had a special game planned for afterwards. Something exotic in the bedroom, perhaps?
How badly did I read that? The bombshell dropped after dessert. “John, this has been lovely as usual, but there’s something I need to tell you.”
Apparently, she’s got a boyfriend in Bristol. Been going out with the bastard for ages, but sounds like they’re getting serious. In a few weeks, they’re moving in together. Brit banged on about what a nice person I was and we should keep in contact as ‘friends,’ blah, blah, blah, but we won’t. If we ever speak again, I’ll be surprised—unless she needs a car tyre changed.
I thought we had something special, but I’ve been an idiot. Seems I was her bit on the side, a convenient distraction when she visited her parents. Brit was the highlight of my week, a few hours of bliss in an otherwise pointless existence. But she had a whole other life, an exciting career and a massive social circle. She’s attractive, intelligent, sociable and wealthy. Of course, she’d find a proper boyfriend who was compatible and they’re going to settle down and have gazillions of kids. Who’d want to be stuck with me for life? Absolute fuck.
So what now? It took 28 years to find my first girlfriend, so I can look forward to another when I’m about 56. Great!
“Would you like another coffee, love?”
John sat and stared into his empty coffee cup.
“John?”
“What? Sorry Mum, I was miles away. Yes thanks, another coffee would be great.”
Breakfast in the Callaghan household had become a sombre affair since John’s break up with Britney. Today, even the weather contributed to the mood, with the sky packed full of thick dirty clouds threatening to piss down at any moment.
“Do you have any plans for today?” Sarah said.
“Just the usual. I’ve got some coding to do. Are we going into the village?”
“Yes, that would be nice. I need to get a birthday card for Elsie.”
Sarah filled his coffee cup. John remained silent.
“You haven’t mentioned your war games simulator thingy for a while.”
“I’ve given that up as a bad job.”
“Oh dear, you spent a lot of time on that, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. Tell me about it. There’s a reason that nobody’s ever done it before. It was far more difficult than I anticipated. No matter what I did, when I repeatedly simulated an actual battle, the results would be different. Not only different to the original conflict, but each time I ran it.”
“Hmm, isn’t that sort of like real life? You’ve told me the course of a battle could alter because of the weather, or a single soldier picking up a flag and starting a charge.”
“Yeah, you’re right. So, in reality, you can’t predict combat with any certainty—there’s always a big randomness factor. And, logically, that means what I was trying to create is pointless. A realistic simulator will produce random results. That’s just the conclusion I reached, which is why I’ve abandoned it. Pity I didn’t realise that six months ago.”
“How disappointing.” Sarah began rotating her wedding ring. “You haven’t eaten much. How about another slice of toast and marmalade?”
“No, ta.” John sipped his coffee, staring blankly at the work surface.
Sarah looked at her son. “Will you be training with the T.A. this weekend?”
“No. Not this weekend.”
“Okay. You don’t seem to do that much recently?”
More uncomfortable silence. Sarah waited patiently for the cogs in John’s brain to gear into motion.
“No. I suppose not. To be honest, I don’t feel like it much anymore. There’s a repeating yearly training cycle, so basically I’ve done everything seven times already. And I’m fed up with being wet and cold and muddy and it’s hard work for me to pretend to be one of the lads. Most of them regard getting pissed on the Saturday night as the highlight of the weekend, but I hate doing that, so usually volunteer for guard duty. I still do enough weekends to qualify for the annual training bounty, but I’m not sure why. It’s not like I need the money.”
Sarah nibbled a piece of toast ineffectually. “John. I wonder… was I right to put you through all that therapy?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when I look at you now, it seems you’re hardly thrilled with your life.”
He huffed. “Really. What gave it away?”
“I’m being serious. You don’t have the personality to socialise with other people, but you’re not happy on your own. When you were younger, your interests would change regularly, and you were totally engrossed with every new hobby. You could spend days on your own and you’d be quite content. But your interests haven’t changed for years and you’ve become bored with them—and nothing new has come along to replace them. You seem stuck in a rut.”
Sarah reached over and held his hand.
“I worry that my meddling has turned you into a half-way house. You still can’t fit into society, but you’re no longer comfortable to be on your own. Perhaps if I’d let you blossom into your own natural Aspergy self, you would’ve been satisfied leading a solitary life. I’ve tried to normalise you and ended up with a hybrid. Goodness, that sounds awful, doesn’t it? I didn’t mean to say it like that.”
John laughed.
“Oh, Mum. Maybe you’re right. But, in truth, I doubt the therapy had much effect on me. And you were doing what you thought best. It was Kendall that was advising you. Doctor Meddle. And he was just following the latest trends in psychology, which I expect have completely changed since then. Don’t blame yourself. Maybe I was destined to become a depressed lonely git.”
CHAPTER 18
Cal's Perfect Life
TIMELINE: 18 months after Yellow Death
“We’re all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness — and call it love.”
Robert Fulghum (1937– )
Almost December and stil
l warm enough to be wearing a T-shirt. The weather’s gone insane.
Cal stirred the breakfast porridge, bubbling gently over an open fire. His morning run, exercises and wash were complete. He added another dash of water and a spoonful of powdered milk to the simmering goo, then gave it a stir.
The breeze changed direction and blew wood smoke into his face, making his eyes sting. He stood up and walked backwards to get clean air, rubbing his eyes as he did so.
Apart from a few thin cirrus clouds, the sky was an uninterrupted blue canvas. The sun hovered low above the distant hills, and the warmth felt good on his skin.
When he recovered, he noticed Juliet walking towards the camp after her morning ablutions in the nearby stream. She wore only leggings and a tee-shirt that displayed her figure wonderfully. Her hair hung loose and damp. She carried a towel and a bag of toiletries.
Cal sat back down but continued to watch her progress. As she came into the campsite, it was obvious she was not wearing a bra since her nipples stood proudly underneath the thin material.
Cal stared, and he became erect, shifting position to disguise the effect she was having on him. Their eyes met for an instant, and Cal flushed with embarrassment as he directed his gaze intently on the porridge.
Juliet lifted her towel over her chest. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. That was a bit blatant. Sometimes I forget I’m not living alone now.”
“No, no, no. Sorry, I shouldn’t have been… I mean, I didn’t intend to stare, but-but—”
“But you couldn’t help gawping at my breasts?”
“No! I mean, yes. Fuck! Sorry.”
“Relax, Cal. It’d be pretty strange if you didn’t look. It’s not like you’ve been creeping down to the stream to spy on me… Or have you?”
“NO! Of course not. I wouldn’t dream of it. Well, I might dream of it, but I’d never do it.”
Cal’s face flushed again. There was that one time. They had camped right next to a stream. With Juliet so close, it would have been difficult to avoid seeing something. He’d only had a quick peek.
Bloody hell. I am human. What am I supposed to do with a hot girl walking around naked?
Juliet donned a thick fleece before sitting down next to Cal. She began rubbing her hair with the towel. “How’s the porridge?”
“Almost ready. Another couple of minutes should do it.”
“Tell me something, Cal. Are you gay?”
Cal’s eyebrows shot up. “What? No. Why would you ask that?”
Juliet shrugged. “Just wondering. You’ve never spoken about a wife or girlfriend and, until a few moments ago, I haven’t seen you show any interest in me.”
Cal lifted the porridge off the fire and began spooning it into two bowls, attempting to avoid eye contact. “I find it uncomfortable talking about private stuff, that’s all. Here you go.” He passed a bowl to Juliet.
“Thanks. Pass the sugar, will you? I fancy something sweet this morning.” She added a teaspoon of sugar to her bowl and stirred it in before tasting it. “That’s better. You know, Cal, if we’re travelling together permanently, you’re going to have to be more open. To be honest, keeping your past such a secret is getting a bit creepy. It’s not normal.”
Cal laughed. “I’ve never claimed to be normal.”
They ate in silence for a moment until Cal relented. “Sorry. You’re absolutely right. I’ll try to be less secretive. I just don’t want to scare you off.”
She smiled. “I don’t scare that easily. So, let’s start with relationships. What is your relationship history? Are you… Were you single? When was your last relationship? Come on, spill the beans.”
Cal felt his guts tighten. What should he say so he came across as reasonably normal?
When faced with two options, favour the boldest. Just speak the truth.
“I’ve had one girlfriend. Sort of.”
“What does that mean?”
Cal told her all about the weekend relationship with Britney.
Juliet listened in silence and nodded from time to time as she ate her porridge. “And you’ve never contacted Brit since you broke up?”
“No.”
“You didn’t feel the urge to find out how she was getting on? She was your first real grown-up relationship after all.”
“I thought about her, but never plucked up enough courage to contact her. I didn’t want to bother her. I assumed I’d be ancient history, and she’d get in touch with me if she wanted to. Besides, after we broke up, I was in a terrible state for a while. Things weren’t going well for me.”
“I see. And she was your only relationship?”
He nodded and moved his spoon around his bowl for a few seconds without eating. “Well, there was one other time.”
Why am I telling her this?
“Oh, yes. Go on.”
“Once… years ago. I was in Germany with the army. I got very drunk. More drunk than I’d ever been. I kind of went with a prostitute. Only the once. It’s never happened again and it never would. My mates sort of… coerced me. God, that sounds pathetic.”
Cal didn’t dare look at Juliet to see her reaction and fixed his eyes on the still untouched porridge bowl. He waited for a reaction. And waited. When Cal could bear the silence no more, he finally looked up at her. Juliet was smiling broadly, and they both burst out laughing.
“Oh, Cal, what are we going to do with you? For God’s sake, eat your porridge before it’s stone cold.”
Cal began spooning the mush into his mouth.
Juliet hung a kettle of water over the fire. “So, you’re definitely not gay?”
“No, definitely not.”
“Just a little inexperienced.”
“I guess you could say that.”
“That’s okay. I can work with that.”
What the hell does that mean?
Juliet put a second spoonful of sugar in her porridge and smiled. “Now, tell me all about this night with a prostitute. That’s something I’ve got to hear about.”
Oh, God.
Cal and Juliet were travelling along the A377 road, with Juliet driving and Cal sitting next to her, cradling a rifle in his lap. Every few seconds, the wiper blades swept across the windscreen to clear the persistent drizzle. Today’s aim was to find an organic wholesaler somewhere north of Exeter. They hoped to find a warehouse brimming with canned and dried food, which was undiscovered by other survivors.
Cal dozed, but woke up when the Land Rover detoured down a minor side road. “What’s going on?”
Juliet grinned to herself. “Wait. Be patient. You’ll see.”
She turned into a small lane preceded by a faded sign, leaning at an odd angle, which declared; ‘Paradise Valley - Leave Your Cares At The Entrance’. The lane opened to reveal rows of dirty caravans standing amongst tall grass and weeds. One had caught fire at some stage, leaving a blackened chassis. The grey scudding clouds added to the gloomy scene. The site contained a large outdoor equipment shop. Juliet ignored the front car park and drove around the back, where they would be hidden from the public road.
Cal noted with satisfaction that Juliet had begun following his security habits.
Juliet turned off the engine. “I want to grab a few things. Won’t be long. You coming in?” She got out and briskly walked to the shop without waiting for an answer.
Cal shrugged, scanned the area, slung his rifle over his shoulder, then followed her inside.
Before the Yellow Death, the place had been an outdoor living superstore, selling everything needed for the adventurous holiday maker. Since then, it had been plundered, with the main doors smashed in and much of the stock taken. The store was as cold inside as the car park, and Cal shuddered, hoping that Juliet’s detour would be over quickly. Discarded items littered the floor with debris blown from outside, completing the picture of decay. Cal scrunched up his nose at the stink of mould and damp cardboard. Large signs advertised the shop’s biggest sale ever—how true that turned out to be.
“Cal, come over here, will you? I need your opinion on something,” Juliet shouted from across the store.
A rat scuttled outside at the noise. Cal walked over to Juliet, who stood in front of a line of brightly coloured sleeping bags hanging on a rail. She slid them along one by one until stopping at a double with red and yellow stripes when she stepped back to admire it.
“Well, what do you think?” Juliet said.
“About what?”
“The sleeping bag, silly. Do you like it?”
Cal frowned. “It’s okay, I suppose. A bit colourful for my taste.”
She grabbed the sleeping bag and rubbed it between her fingers. “Hmm. Lovely and soft. Do you think it would be comfy?”
“Well, yes. I expect it would.”
“Excellent. Shall we take it then?”
He looked at her quizzically. “Why? What do you want a double sleep… Oh.”
She nodded, smiling.
“What? You don’t mean… For us? You and me? For us to sleep in… together?”
“Well, you can sleep. I was planning on doing something far more exciting.”
“Oh… Oh, yes. Good God. Well yes, of course, definitely… Great, thanks.”
He knew he was babbling, so took a deep breath. “Sorry. You took me by surprise. I didn’t realise you were thinking of me in that way.”
“I know. That’s part of what makes you so appealing. Okay then, if we’re sharing a sleeping bag, we’re going to need a bigger tent.”
They returned to their vehicle carrying their latest acquisitions. Cal was beaming like a dog in a sausage shop.
