by Peter Hall
Kim frowned. “What do you mean… Oh Mum, you don’t mean…”
“After that time… I mean, after you’d moved out to live with Auntie Helen—”
“You mean when you moved me out.”
“Yes, okay, if you wish. After we’d arranged for you to live with your aunt, your dad and I lived separate lives. We never slept in the same room again—how could I after what he’d done to you? We barely spoke. But we still had to attend official functions together—to keep up the appearance of a happy married couple.”
“Because it wouldn’t do for anyone to think Dad wasn’t perfect in any way, would it?” Kim took a large drink, gripping her glass tightly.
Rachel put her hand over her mouth and stared at the table top. After a long silence, she breathed deeply and cleared her throat. “Anyway, on one of those tiresome formal dinners, I met one of your Dad’s colleagues. A scientist named—”
“Please don’t tell me his name.”
“As you wish. But you should understand he was kind to me at a tough time.”
“Was Dad aware of this?”
Rachel chuckled. “Do you know what? I don’t think he did but, to be quite frank, I don’t give a fuck whether or not he knew about it.”
“Mum! I’ve never heard you use that word before.” They looked at each other and burst out laughing. Rachel pushed her empty glass over to Kim to refill it.
“Steady on Mum. I’ve never seen you drink like this before either.”
“Yes, well. There’s never been a time like this before. Nor will there be again.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you’ll stop interrupting me, you’ll find out.”
Kim motioned zipping up her lips.
“Good. As I was saying. Me and… the scientist fellow became close friends. Our… liaison stopped a long time ago—long before your dad passed away—but we always kept in contact. So I called him today to find out what the hell was really going on. I didn’t expect for a second he’d tell me anything—these guys live and breathe secrecy—but I was wrong. He asked to meet me and he told me everything.”
Rachel sipped her drink and stared into the glass.
“And?” Kim prompted.
Rachel sighed. “And… we’re all going to die.”
Kim frowned. Was her Mother playing some sick joke?
Rachel looked Kim in the eyes. “I’m so sorry, Kim. This so-called Yellow Death is a variant of the plague. But it’s far more transmissible and deadly. Most people are asymptomatic for days after they become infected, but all the time they’re spreading it around. And it kills almost everyone.”
“But… that’s not… possible. That’s crazy.”
“Less than one per cent survive. Perhaps much less than one per cent. Some of the first people to catch it are still hanging on to life in a coma—but their prospects aren’t good. The very few who’ve recovered needed massive medical intervention, and that’s gone out the window. Now that the NHS has effectively disintegrated, perhaps everyone will die.”
Kim sat back, trying to process the enormity of what her mother had said. “Everyone?”
Rachel nodded.
“But… Katy?”
“Everyone.”
“Noooooooooooo!” Kim covered her face with her hands and silently screamed inside. It was unbelievable, yet there was not a shred of doubt in her mind it was true. Everything suddenly made sense. “How… long?”
Rachel shrugged. “Days, maybe. I’m so sorry, Kim. When I found out I had to let you know.”
“Why? Why did you have to let me know? What difference does it make? Couldn’t you have let me have a few more hours of blissful ignorance? God, this fucking headache is driving me insane. My God! That’s it, isn’t it? I’ve got it. I’m already going down with it.”
“Perhaps. It’s impossible to say. For some people, it starts with a headache. But you might just have an ordinary headache. You’ve been under a lot of stress. But then, you do work in that library, mixing with all those people.”
“God, I can’t afford to be ill now. I’ve got Katy to look after.”
“That’s another reason I came over here. I thought you might need help if you went down with it before Katy.”
Kim nodded. “Yes. You’re right. Thanks. Sorry. That was a shitty thing for me to say to you.”
“It’s okay. You’ve just been told the world’s about to end. You have a right to an emotional outburst. I threw a vase at the television. Let’s go sit in the living room. We might as well make ourselves comfortable. And bring that bottle with you.”
Kim and Rachel walked to the living room and sat side-by-side on the sofa, their glasses fully charged. Kim’s head spun with questions, and somebody with a large mallet was pounding on the inside of her skull. She swigged back two paracetamol with port.
“You’re not supposed to mix those pills with alcohol,” Rachel said.
“It’s the end of the fucking world, Mum.”
“I know, but I was thinking of Katy. She might need you in one piece.”
“Shit. Yes, you’re right. God's teeth, this sucks.”
“Yes. As far as suckiness goes, this is indeed the top of the suckiness pile.”
Kim took a deep breath. “What are the other reasons?”
“Sorry?”
“You said one reason you came over here was to help out with Katy. So what are the other reasons?”
“Oh, yes. Well. There are two other reasons.” Rachel paused and swallowed. “Firstly, I needed to make peace with you… Over the past… While I still can.”
Kim knew exactly what she meant, but this was the last thing she wanted to talk about. Kim remained silent.
Rachel continued. “The thing that happened to you. The reason we sent you to live with Auntie Helen. It was unforgivable.”
Kim breathed deeply. “You still don’t get it, do you? You talk about the thing that happened to me as though it was some sort of accident. As if I’d got an illness. Why can’t you say it like it was? Why can’t you say ‘what he did’?
“Sorry. You’re absolutely right. What your father did to you was unforgivable.”
“But you let him get away with it!”
“Well, not really.”
“Yes! Really! You sent me away to live with Auntie ‘hear no evil’ and he stayed living in our house.”
“We did what was best for the family. The entire family. We had to consider Toby. And I made sure you were protected. He could never do that thing to you again—”
“That thing? That thing? You can’t even say it, can you?”
Rachel sipped her port. Her hands shook so much she held the glass with both hands. “Fellatio. There, I’ve said it, all right? For three years, my husband forced my daughter to perform fellatio under my roof and I never had a damn clue.”
A long silence stretched out between them as they swam in an ocean of painful memories.
Rachel cleared her throat. “We weren’t husband and wife after that. I barely spoke to him. But if it had ever got out what he’d been doing—for all those years… There would have been a massive scandal. The story would’ve been on TV and in the papers. We’d have had a scrum of media rats hanging around our home for months. Dad would’ve lost his job and there wouldn’t have been another at his age. Our house and the villa in Italy were both mortgaged. The cars were on lease. And there was your father’s pension to consider. Everything would have gone. No more private school, no more horse riding for you, or music lessons for Toby.”
“So you’re saying you turned a blind eye to serial sexual assault, so I could have what—fucking riding lessons?”
“It wasn’t like that. The family would’ve been destitute. Living in some bloody council house on benefits. I’m sorry, Kim, but it wasn’t a straightforward decision. And if it was only me, I’d have gone to the police station right away. But I had to act for the best interests of both of my children in the long-term. Do you think I wanted to sh
are a house with the man who’d abused my daughter? I felt like smashing his head in with a frying pan. But I had to be sensible, pragmatic, for the sake of you and Toby.”
“Did you even consider asking me what I thought?”
“Yes. I agonised over it. But you were only sixteen and, if I’m honest, you were quite… naïve for your age.”
“Apart from the sexual assault?”
“What I mean is I didn’t think you were in a… a mental state to make sensible decisions affecting the rest of yours and Toby’s life. And to be honest, what happened later made me realise I was right.”
Kim frowned. “What do you mean? No! You’re not talking about the anorexia?”
“Well, that showed what a fragile mental state you were in—starving yourself to death.”
“You make it sound like I woke up one morning and decided to stop eating. It was never like that. I couldn’t stand the feeling of… of certain things in my mouth. And we both know why that was. It just got worse and worse over time. Food was the only thing in my life I could control.”
“Oh dear, this isn’t going how I wanted it to. What I meant to say was… was, I was a terrible mother. Neglectful. It shouldn’t have happened on my watch. For three years, he deceived me. Then you… stopped eating, and I never noticed that either until you collapsed at school. I was so wrapped up with charity events and the bridge club and tennis committee and being the dutiful wife. I forgot about my most important job—which was being a mother. And that’s what was unforgivable.”
Tears flowed down Rachel’s cheeks. “And what was just as bad was standing aside for years before then and letting that man have his own way about so many things.”
“The hosepipe?”
“Yes. That damn hosepipe! Sometimes when he used it on Toby, I put on headphones and blasted music so loud it made my ears hurt. Just so I couldn’t hear Toby’s screams. But it wasn’t just the hosepipe. It was all the silly rules and regulations. The etiquette and manners at the dinner table. As if we were royalty. I was weak. I let him bully me for years.”
Rachel took out a tissue and blew her nose. “So I wanted to apologise while I still can. I’d been failing you for years and let you down when it mattered most. I was… pathetic and made the wrong decisions. I’m sorry. If I was in that situation again, I’d fight to send him to prison and sod the pension and the villa.”
The two women sat in silence for several minutes. Kim had waited years for that apology. For some heartfelt and genuine recognition of the horror she had lived through. Yet Rachel’s apology felt like a damp squib—nothing changed, nothing felt different. Perhaps because the real traitor in her family had escaped justice and never made any attempt to atone before he died.
Nevertheless, they might all be dead in a few days. There was no point holding grudges. Kim took her mother’s hand. “Thanks, Mum. That means a lot. Pity it took an apocalypse to drag it out, but I appreciate it. And I realise it can’t have been easy.”
Tears flowed freely down Rachel’s face. “Nothing ever is.”
“I’ve had enough of this awful port—tastes like paint thinners. I’m going to put the kettle on.”
Kim returned a few moments later with two cups of coffee.
Rachel was looking in the mirror. “Oh dear, with all that crying, my mascara looks terrible.”
“Civilisation is crumbling around us, Mum. Who cares?”
“I care. I’m not planning to meet my maker with smudged make-up.”
Kim sat on the sofa and rubbed her temples.
“Is your headache not getting better?” Rachel asked.
“Worse. Much worse. I’m going to have to lie down a bit.”
Rachel placed her palm on Kim’s forehead. “You’re burning up. Are your armpits sore?”
“Yes. I’ve got it, haven’t I?”
Rachel nodded. “It looks like you have. The swelling under the arms is the lymph nodes starting to… Oh, what the hell, I don’t suppose you need a description.”
Kim put down her cup and covered her eyes. “What am I going to do? I can’t afford to be ill. I’ve got to look after Katy.”
Chill realisation hit her like a brick in the face. “Katy! Oh shit. I’ve been with Katy all day. If I’ve got it…”
Kim could not continue with that train of thought and Rachel had no crumb of comfort to offer. They were past the point where well meaning platitudes would help.
Rachel began rummaging through her handbag. “That brings me to the last reason I had to come over here.” She pulled out a small brown container and placed it on the coffee table.
“What’s that?” Kim said.
“Antibiotics. The strong stuff. Brand new, experimental. Knock out an elephant.”
“Mum, where the hell did you get these?”
“Same place I got the information—my scientist friend.”
Kim looked at the pot suspiciously. “Will they work?”
“Who knows? There’s hardly been time for trials. They’re new and powerful and as rare as hen’s teeth. That much I’m sure about. Obviously, these pills were never intended for this Yellow Death thing, but the scientists believe they might be effective. I was told selected members of the Government are getting them. These were given to my friend, but he said I’d make better use of them. He hasn’t got any children. If you’ve got this disease, then, from what little we understand, there’s nothing to lose by trying them. Take one every six hours.”
Kim picked up the pill pot and tipped out the precious contents on the table. “Mum, there’s only twelve pills, that’s only three days’ supply.”
“That was all I could get, dear. Let’s hope three days is enough.”
“Yes, but it’s three days for just one person. Katy will need them.”
“No. I’m sorry, but they’re no good for Katy. That much is clear. They’d do Katy more harm than good. My friend told me they’re only suitable for children over twelve and adults, because of the side effects.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Quite sure. Take them.”
“But if I take them, what about you?”
“Kim. Darling. I never got them for me. I’m getting on a bit now. Even if I took the pills, it would probably do no good. To be honest, I’m not sure I care all that much. Listen, my scientist friend said there’s a pattern to this thing. The plague kills almost everyone, but the few that are hanging on, are healthy adults aged under fifty. So there’s no chance for a wrinkly like me.”
“No, that can’t be true. You’re not even ill yet.”
“No, not yet. But I will be. I’ve probably been in contact with dozens of infected people—and now you. There’s no escape from this. You must be realistic. The only thing that’s kept me going these past few years is seeing you, Toby and Katy are okay. I can’t help Toby since he’s in South America. But I can help you, and you have Katy to look after. When this is all over, God knows what mess we’ll be left with. But, if by some miracle Katy gets through this, she’ll need you. Katy can’t survive on her own—she won’t even be able to get out of the house. You’re a wonderful mother, Kim. A damn sight better than I was.”
“Don’t say that, Mum.”
“Hush now, Kim. We both know it’s true. I lost sight of what was important and didn’t see what was happening in my own house. These pills are something practical I can do for you. It’s not much and doesn’t make up for everything. But it’s something.”
“Yes, Mum. It’s something. Thanks.”
Kim took a pill.
CHAPTER 24
Cal & The Ultimatum
TIMELINE: 18 months after Yellow Death
“You will never truly know yourself or the strength of your relationships until both have been tested by adversity.”
J. K. Rowling, Harvard Commencement Address, 2008
The two couples had travelled as a group for seven days.
Cal and Juliet and Ken and Susan. It sounds like a title for a road movie. A
terrible hideous road movie.
The last week proved to be every bit as bad as Cal feared. He despised both of them. The pair were almost exact opposites to him. He worked hard; they were lazy. He planned ahead; they took what life threw at them. He acted with caution; they were rash. Most important of all, Cal was a loner, and they were sociable. Where Juliet was concerned, that gave Ken and Sue the trump card. It also resulted in a constant low level of friction within the quartet.
Juliet enjoyed their company, and had quickly become best friends with Susan. They laughed so much together it began to irritate Cal, although he chided himself for being uncharitable. It was great that Juliet was happy, but it came at the cost of his own wellbeing.
A thousand-and-one irritations accompanied the Ken and Sue roadshow. The most troublesome was Cal’s feeling of vulnerability. The sky-blue motorhome stood out like a vicar in a brothel and made more noise than a Challenger tank. Cal could not set trip wires around camp and they refused to make any concessions to stay out of harm’s way. When Cal pointed out they should not park directly in front of a shop, they chorused, “Come on Cal, don’t be so anal” and burst into laughter. He heard that phrase too often.
Last night, Juliet suggested she and Sue share a vehicle. That left Cal and Ken to travel together. Cal suspected this was an attempt to force him to bond with Ken. Susan had been delighted. Ken less so, but happy-go-lucky Ken agreed to give it a go. Cal hated the idea and would rather share his car with a hungry alligator, but nobody showed interest in what he thought any more. Cal also noted with resentment that Juliet did not run the idea past him first. It felt as if the clock had been turned back twenty years and Cal an outsider in the school playground again.
