Rex got out and stood on the pavement, watching the car go.
Leila said, “You seemed pleased he would try and dodge it in a plane.”
“Of course I’m pleased. As soon as this pause happens, his plane will suddenly rocket up to some fantastic height and burst like a paper bag. I hope it doesn’t catch him on the ground.”
She drove on in the thickening lunch hour traffic, stopping often. He flicked on the radio for the news. There was a lot about the storms that morning.
“It’s rocking them at last,” Nigel said. “They’re beginning to feel they’re up against something. Pity the storms are so local. They ought to burst on everyone.” “I’m hungry. I’m faint,” she said. “I can’t go all that way without something. It doesn’t seem to matter how scared I am. I must eat. I keep thinking, ‘Suppose it comes now?’ But I still get the pain inside.”
“You’re getting a bit light-headed, Leila,” he said gently. “All right. We’ll stop somewhere.” He shut his eyes and sat there, soothed by the surrounding hum of traffic. “I did it, Leila, I can’t do any more. I wanted to screw their necks like chicken, but they don’t know any better. They’re used to ordinary things, rules and regulations. They can’t know there aren’t any rules now’. He said there was nothing to do but pray. Well, I did what could, Leila. I don’t think Rex made any difference. With all his power he couldn’t make any difference.” “That was because he couldn’t change you,” Leila said. “It doesn’t depend on me any more, Leila,” he said, wonderingly. “Do you realize that? I’ve got rid of it! Sold it!” His eyes opened wide. “I can just—go—home!” She stopped by a Chelsea pavement.
“We eat here,” she said, tonelessly.
V
Hal thought they did not see her go. She did not know they were watching her. The drawbridge was down, for Amanda had come aboard.
“Keep watch,” Hal told Joe. “I shan’t be many minutes.”
As the boat was divided into two by the middle bulkhead, Joe did not see the young children. He did not take the guard duty as seriously as he might.
“They wouldn’t dare do anything in daylight,” he said to Amanda.
Once the children got up on to the jetty, they ran, but they need not have done, for Joe was not then looking. As they scampered ashore the whole house and beach seemed deserted, though far off in the east the sands were dotted with holiday-makers. It was a hot, still afternoon with only the gentle lapping of the lazy sea on the beach. But near the house there was an atmosphere of tension, as if the walls radiated some electric heat. In their hutches and pens in the corner of the lawn the animals were restless and uneasy. The geese kicked up at the approach of the children, and that started the pig snorting and snuffling, the goat rattling and dragging at her chain, the rabbits scratching and bumping in the hutches.
Harry screeched warning whispers at them, scared that someone would hear. John went round to the garage to fetch his bicycle, and came pedalling back in triumph. It was then that he saw the strangers standing by the house wall, watching them.
He rode over to them, “Hallo,” he said.
“Hallo,” one replied. “What are you doing?”
“We’ve come to fetch our beasties,” John said. “It’s secret.”
One of the two little girls was shy and did not speak They could have been sisters, with flaxen pigtails, white sunhats and bathing drawers. The shy one had a pail and spent her time looking earnestly into it, and sometime stealing quick glances at the animals Harry was going to let out.
Harry was getting hot, and did not know what he was doing, it was all in such a hurry in case somebody came and stopped him.
“You can help if you like,” he said, looking across at them.
“All right,” the older girl said. “What?”
“We want to carry food on board, you see. Tons of it,” Harry said. “It’s a game. We’re living on the barge.”
“What fun! ” the elder girl said. “Does your mummy mind ?”
“She thought of it,” John said proudly.
“There’s a man over there by the gate,” the little girl said. “Is that your daddy?”
John looked. “No,” he said and rode round the pair twice. “He’s only just a man.”
“Come and help me,” Harry said impatiently. “We’ve got tons of food to carry. It’s in the back of the garage here. Come on!”
“Can we go on the boat?” The shy little girl suddenly broke her silence.
“Of course!” John said, proudly.
“If you help first,” Harry said.
They all went into the garage.
VI
“You want something to make them sleep?” Harvey asked quizzically.
“No. More than that,” she said, firmly.
“I can’t do that, Hal,” Harvey said, and shook his head.
“I don’t think you understand. It wouldn’t be till the very last resort, but it might happen. It’s in case they’re badly hurt and there’s no one left to—help. Do you see?”
Harvey wiped his sweaty face.
“I shouldn’t do that, Hal,” he said. “There’s such a risk.”
“There won’t be any risks,” she said.
“No. But I’m still a doctor.”
“You do believe, don’t you?”
“I’ve gone too far not to,” he said. “Too many things have happened. Feel it now. The very air’s vibrating with it. I don’t think it’s so far off.”
“Then will you do as I ask?”
He said nothing for a while. “All right, Hal. It might be a good thing. You would be able to relieve pain—if it did happen you had the chance. I’ll give you some morphia. Do you know anything about doses? I’ll tell you . .
When he had told her she said, “It’s very close now.”
“Are you afraid, Hal ?”
“Yes, of course I am. But I want to be ready. We’re lucky to know what’s going to happen. We have the chance to do just a few little things.”
“What can you do ?”
“Things—like this,” she said, indicating the morphia.
“Where will you go?” he asked.
“There is nowhere to go,” she said. “We’ll just be together, that’s all.”
“That’s all there is,” he said, and looked at her. “I wish I had your courage, Hal. I’m cramped right up inside with sheer funk. I’ve been thinking of morphia. I’m as bad as that.”
“There’s always a chance while you’re still alive,” she said.
“I don’t think there’s any chance,” he said. “I can feel violent death in the air round me. I think another of those storms might make up my mind for me.”
“You mustn’t do that,” she said.
He held out his hand, fingers spread.
“The air is vibrating,” he said quietly. “I can feel it on ray skin! ”
“I must go back,” she said. “Thank you—very much.”
He took her hand and squeezed it.
“Good-bye, Hal. I’ll never see you again.”
“You mustn’t say that!”
“But I know, Hal. Animals know when they’re going to die. Good-bye.”
He stood there on the veranda, his face grey, calm, his eyes soft as he watched her go away through the garden. Then he looked at the sky. The blue of the calm afternoon was gradually changing to a coppery light, as if the sun were beginning to set fire to the curtains of the atmosphere.
He went back into the room, hesitated there, and then poured a long Scotch. As he held the glass he could feel it quivering faintly between his fingers.
“Not long now,” he said. “I wish I had somebody to be all together with.”
CHAPTER NINE
I
“Don’t make a row!” Harry hissed.
The four children were in the shadows of the garage where the boxes and cans of animal food were kept. He put his finger to his lips.
“Why? What for?” John whispered.
“That man at the gate,” Harry said. “He’s one of them who stopped Mummy in the car. You remember?”
John went pale and his eyes opened. “Oh, blimey,” he said.
“What man?” asked the leader of the little girls.
“Bad men,” said John.
“We’ve got to have a plan,” Harry said, eagerly. “They’ve come to steal my beasties. But they’re not going to ! I know what we’ll do. They always follow me if they know I’ve got their food. Listen. I’ll let them all out, and we’ll take the food on to the jetty, see? They’ll follow us and then we can get them on the barge.”
“My mummy wouldn’t half kick up a fuss if I brought a lot of animals home,” the elder girl said. “She hoots when the dog moults.”
Overhead the sky was slowly turning coppery, but the children did not notice it, so intent and excited were they about their plan.
“The snake can’t run,” John pointed out.
“I know, fathead,” Harry scoffed. “I’ll carry him and the lizards in the box. You know Mummy’s funny about snakes.”
He went to the door and peered round the corner of the wall.
“He’s still there,” he announced in a breathless whisper. “I think he’s talking to somebody.” He surveyed his troops. “Now, I’ll tell you what to carry. I’ll fix the feeding bowl round my belt, see, and it’ll clank and they’ll all think it’s food. All right, now, you—what’s your name?”
“I’m Susan,” the elder girl said. “And she’s Sarah.”
“Well, you go out and stand by the hutches, see ?” said Harry’. “They don’t know you, so it’ll be all right.”
“What, the men, or the animals?” John said.
“Suppose the man comes in the garden?” John said, squeaky with sudden fear.
“He won’t dare,” Harry said. “Not while we’re here.”
“It’s getting dark,” Sarah said.
“It isn’t. Don’t be daft,” said Susan. “It’s not night time.
“I feel all itchy,” Sarah said, wriggling suddenly. “It’s fleas,” said Susan, disdainfully.
“Look, this is what you’ve got to carry,” said Harry, commanding the situation.
“Goo ! It’s as big as me,” Susan protested.
“We got to take tons,” said John.
“Are you going to keep them there for ever?” Susan asked. “They’ll never eat all that!”
“You don’t know about animals,” said Harry, loftily. “They eat.”
He looked round his stacked troops.
“Ready, now?” he said. “Operation commence!” They followed him out into the coppery sunlight and waited while he started to release his pets. He carried two cases, the one with the snake and lizards, labelled ‘Rep-tilles’, and the cage with two pigeons cooing in it. The rest all started to follow the clanking dinner pail in ragged formation, snuffling, grunting, squealing.
The Top Man stood at the gate, staring and doing nothing as the little procession straggled away towards the jetty.
Bill was retreating slowly along the lane, going backwards, his eyes on the sky.
“To hell with the kids,” he said as he went. “I’m getting out of here. It’s one of them storms. You feel. It’s
shaking! You can feel. The air’s shaking or somethin’. You have the kids. Count me out of it.”
He turned suddenly and ran. The Top Man stood there, his inside turning to water. He could not handle the two children by himself. He must let them go. And with that job drawing away from him he was left with nothing but fear, fear of an unknown that was beginning to tremble against his skin.
Joe came on deck to welcome the procession.
“What the blazes are you doing?” he shouted.
“Ssssh!” Harry hissed. “It’s a secret operation.” “You’re not going to bring that smelly lot on here!” said Joe, firmly.
“Mummy said we could,” said Harry innocently. “What!”
“She did, didn’t she?” Harry shouted at John.
“Yes, she did,” John said, not having heard the question.
“Just for the party,” said Harry, softening it down. “We’re having a party, you see. This is Susan and that’s Sarah.” ,
“You shouldn’t have gone ashore,” Joe said angrily. “Something might have happened.”
By now the noise of the hungry animals made them shout to be heard.
“Here’s Mummy coming,” Joe said. “We’ll soon see!” “Oh dear,” said John. “Oh blimey.”
Hal came up, having seen from afar what the idea was. The whole atmosphere was acute with tension. She had no heart or wish to refuse them anything anymore.
“You can do as you like, darlings,” she said, wanting to cry like mad. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get some tea for you all.”
“We’re going to have it with the beasties, please, Mummy,” said Harry. “It’s a sort of zoo-sea-party, you see.”
The children set about drawing their beasties into the stem of the barge, running round yelling, flapping hands, but gradually succeeding.
“Put the kettle on, Joe darling,” Hal said.
He went to go, but saw her face and stopped, looking anxiously.
“Are you all right, Mother?”
She could not answer because it would have meant bursting into tears, but she controlled herself at last and said, “I wish Daddy would come back.”
He nodded, not knowing what to say further, then went aboard and vanished below. The sky was copper, holding still, shimmering like a great bowl. She could feel the hot vibrating of the air.
“It may be just here,” she murmured, frightened. “It might not be so bad everywhere. And it will have to be everywhere. It was bad here right from the start.”
II
He sprawled in the car, seat back, legs out as far as they would go.
“If it has to happen, I wish it would happen now,” Leila said as she drove. “While you’re still with me.”
“Don’t, Leila,” he said.
“I should have been a man,” she said. “When I’m scared, I want comfort instead of wanting to give it.”
He said nothing, but stared ahead.
“I don’t like the look of the sky,” he said.
“It couldn’t be—anything yet?” she said, and shivered suddenly.
He put a hand on her thigh. “It’s no use worrying, Leila. There’s nothing that you can do.”
“I can’t even eat, drink and be merry,” she said. “I’m all feathery snow inside. I just want to cry on your shoulder.”
“Oh, Leila!” He shook his head and looked out of the window. “The trouble with us is we’ve got no faith anything.”
“We seem to have a well-developed faith in disaster she said, sharply.
“I mean in something you can hold on to. Religion comes and goes in phases. When it comes it brings terrible cruelty and persecution, and when it goes there’s a kind of deadly aimlessness about everything. You say disaster - yes, maybe it is. It’s more a constant fear. Fear of war fear of bombs. Why ? Life’s always been a fight. Why the hell should it stop because we’ve got electric light?…. That sky looks queer, Leila.”
He was staring ahead to the sky over the sea twenty miles ahead. He could see the coppery shade fusing in the blue of the sky above the windscreen.
“It’s spreading,” he said, tonelessly. “The storms didn’t spread. They always came at the same places, over the same areas. This is spreading, coming overhead.”
She drew a deep breath. “Do you think this is it?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head, watching the heavens intently.
“Then the Minister won’t be able to do anything.” “I didn’t think he would,” Nigel said. “I knew no one could do anything, right from the start. I just had spasms of trying to believe they could, that some miracle man would accelerate the earth just when it was due to slow down. I never really believed it. It was just the last straw.”
“You’ve got somebody to face it with,” she said suddenly. “You have Hal and the children. They’re all your life, a part of you. But I based my life on success. I was too busy to keep old loves or make new friends. I just have a thousand acquaintances and no friends.”
“You have one, Leila.”
“Not the way I want you, Ni. It’s too late now. When you make a choice of life you only think of what it’s going to be like when it’s going on. You don’t think of what it’s going to be like when the end’s just round the comer. It’s there now. And I’m scared and empty. I’m nobody, because I have nobody. Nobody who belongs to me.”
“Don’t talk like this, Leila. It can’t do any good. You can be with us. You will be.”
“Not with you,” she said. “That’s the point.”
“I’m sorry you feel like this,” he said huskily. There was a pause. “It’s spreading,” he murmured. “Spreading all over the sky. Faster, Leila. Faster, please !”
The car went quicker through the hot stillness of the strange afternoon, racing on towards the end.
III
At four, Sheppard had the Prime Minister on the phone.
“Is there any possible doubt about this?” the Premier asked.
“As far as it’s humanly possible to check—no. I was pondering, sir, what ought to be done. Organize church services—a day of prayer?”
The Prime Minister hesitated, for he knew Sheppard’s religious beliefs.
“No, Sheppard. I don’t think it would do any good.”
“What shall we do, then ?”
“There is nothing that can be done. Those of us who know will have to share the burden to save the alarm of those who don’t. Remember, there is always the hope that it will not happen.
The Giant Stumbles Page 13
