Global Cooling (The Time Bubble Book 2)

by Jason Ayres

  She was glad they were getting away to Fuerteventura. According to her dad, the weather over there had not been too bad recently. It hadn’t been as hot a summer as usual, and cloudy much of the time, but it was still pleasantly warm.

  =============================

  Whilst Kaylee was thinking about the long-term weather forecast, most people were more concerned with complaining about the current conditions. It was nearly opening time at The Red Lion, and Kent was sitting at the bar reading the paper whilst Lauren stocked up the fridges.

  Kent wasn’t too worried about the weather. He and Debbie were due to jet off on holiday the next day. They were bound for Cyprus, which by all accounts had also escaped the worst of the poor summer.

  The door from upstairs opened and Debbie emerged with a face like thunder.

  “What are you doing, sitting there?” she said. “It’s bloody freezing in here! Why haven’t you got the heating on?”

  “Heating costs money, my sweet,” replied Kent. “It will soon warm up when we get a few more people in.”

  “If we get a few more people in,” she replied. “It’s not exactly been busy in the daytime lately, has it?”

  “Well, you can blame the weather for that,” replied Kent. “It’s not been like last summer when we had that heatwave during Euro 2028. The sun brings them out.”

  “Well, it’s too cold. Get outside and get some of those logs in and light a fire. They’ve been sat out the back long enough.”

  “You know carrying logs in is bad for my back,” replied Kent. “Maybe Lauren could…”

  “Stop right there, mister,” interrupted Debbie. “You can’t keep dumping every little thing you can’t be bothered to do onto her. She’s going to have her work cut out running this place while we’re away as it is.”

  Lauren had been working hard over the summer. She’d been on a training course and gained her personal licence. Now she felt ready to take charge of the pub whilst her employers were away.

  “Yes, and that’s why I’ve promoted her to assistant manager and given her a pay rise,” replied Kent.

  “Excuse me,” interrupted Lauren. “I am actually here, you know. You could include me in the conversation.”

  “Well, you two sort it out amongst yourselves,” said Debbie. “I’m going back upstairs to pack.” She turned and headed back upstairs. Once she was out of earshot, Kent turned back to Lauren.

  “Go on, Lauren, get a few logs in. I’ll make you a coffee if you do. And I’ll light the fire.”

  “Go on, then. I suppose I’ll have to get used to doing it while you’re away,” she replied.

  “Yes, I was thinking about that,” he replied. “If the weather stays like this, it might be a good idea to have a fire every day. It’ll draw the shoppers in from the cold and we’ve got enough wood out there to build a house. Perhaps I over ordered when I asked for a whole lorry load.”

  Lauren headed out into the garden to get the wood. She would soon have cause to be very grateful that Kent had ordered so much.

  Chapter Ten – 19th October 2029 (12.00pm)

  It was the only four weeks since the autumn equinox but the weather had already turned bitterly cold. Charlie shivered in the crisp, cold air as he walked across the car park from his office towards his car.

  He had just finished work for two weeks and couldn’t wait to get away from the cold. He’d booked a hotel at Gatwick Airport for him and Kaylee for the night, before they flew to Fuerteventura in the morning for two much-needed weeks in the sun.

  He’d spoken to his mother on the phone the previous evening and she’d told him that the weather there had improved a great deal in the last couple of weeks. The clouds that had hung over the islands for much of the summer had finally dispersed and the sun was shining, lifting temperatures to a most agreeable 25 degrees Celsius.

  As Charlie fought his way through the icy north wind he thought about how much he longed to sit in the sunshine again. Today felt more like January than October, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt the warmth of the sun on his skin.

  Autumn had come swiftly. There had been a succession of Indian summers in recent years, and it had stayed warm right into November. This year, the leaves had turned brown early and most had fallen already.

  He kicked his way through a pile of leaves beneath the horse chestnut tree in the centre of the car park. What conkers had been on the tree had long since fallen. He had noticed that there hadn’t been anything like as many this year, another consequence of the poor summer.

  Kaylee had been at home doing some last-minute packing. She had been busier than ever over the past few days. The Met Office was on red alert tracking the weather front coming in from the north, and it had been all hands on deck. No new leave was being granted, but as she’d had the two weeks in the diary for months and was going on maternity leave shortly anyway, her boss had agreed to let her go.

  Over the past week the situation had worsened rapidly. Canada, Russia and Scandinavia were already in the depths of winter. The cold air mass from the North Pole had already reached Northern Britain and had led to major snowfalls across the Scottish Highlands.

  The media remained awash with speculation about what was occurring. Far from being confined to a few sensationalist tabloid headlines, the matter was now being discussed seriously, not only in the quality papers, but also across radio and television.

  The Government insisted there was no need to worry and that they were in control of the situation. With a general election due in May 2030, they were well aware that they needed to keep voters on their side.

  Extra money had been set aside for cold weather payments to the elderly and those in hardship. Additional resources were being brought in to help keep the roads gritted and cleared of any potential snow, or so they claimed.

  The party line was that Britain was likely to be in for a cold winter, but that the atmosphere was already returning to normal and it would be business as usual within a year or so.

  Many were sceptical, which was unsurprising after a long history of failed promises from politicians. A fair amount of scaremongering had already begun over food and energy supplies. And so it was that, as Kaylee made a last-minute visit to the supermarket to pick up some suntan lotion, she was greeted by a very different scene to the one she’d encountered the week before.

  All around her, people were filling trolleys full of tinned food.

  “Look at these idiots,” she heard a middle-aged man say to his wife as he pushed his trolley down the soup aisle. “Panic buying just because there’s a bit of snow forecast.” Hypocritically, he then began loading dozens of tins of baked beans into his own trolley.

  Kaylee had heard such comments many times in the past. They were one of many clichés trotted out by people every time there was any sort of bad weather forecast. She remembered the last time there had been a heavy snowfall, some seven or eight years ago. People had been moaning about panic buying then, too, as well as Britain’s inability to deal with the snow.

  “What’s wrong with this country?” she remembered her father saying. “A couple of inches of snow, and everything grinds to a halt.”

  The simple truth was that Britain just wasn’t prepared for snow, less so now than ever. After a decade in which snow had fallen only occasionally, it just wasn’t worth spending money keeping and maintaining an army of snowploughs on the off chance of an occasional heavy snowfall.

  As things currently stood, despite the reassurances of the Government, the country was woefully ill-equipped for what lay ahead.

  Kaylee found the suncream aisle and was pleased to find that the whole stock was marked down to half-price. There had been precious little demand for suncream during the past six months, and clearly the store wanted to get rid of it. She picked up a couple of bottles and went to glance at the newspaper headlines.

  The tabloids were again screaming out at her in huge bold letters about the forecast snow. She ignored them a
nd looked at some of the quality dailies. A story she saw on the front of The Times caught her eye. They led with “Russian gas supply under threat”.

  She scanned quickly through the article. According to the paper, due to the freezing conditions in Russia, the country was using a huge amount of energy. Their President had announced that he was unable to guarantee maintaining permanent supplies to Russia’s European customers during the coming winter.

  Up until now Kaylee had been only mildly concerned about the weather situation. She knew how cold it was going to get, but as long as heating, transport and food supplies could be maintained, she hadn’t envisaged any serious danger.

  Now, as she looked around her at the panic buying public, she began to feel distinctly uneasy. If she hadn’t been going to the Canary Islands, she might well have started filling a trolley herself.

  She was extremely relieved that they were leaving, and began to wonder if perhaps they ought to stay in Fuerteventura a little longer. She would talk it over with Charlie.

  In the meantime, she needed to warn her two best friends. If things were going to get bad, she wanted them to be prepared. She went to the self-service till, paid for her suncream, and headed back out of the store in the direction of The Red Lion.

  It had been a busy week for Lauren. With Kent and Debbie gone to Cyprus, she’d had her work cut out running the pub. She didn’t mind, though. She was enjoying the power of being in charge and was making the most of it in more ways than one.

  Because of the need to have someone on the premises at all times, she’d moved into the rooms upstairs and had taken full advantage of it. She hadn’t spent many nights alone.

  When Kaylee arrived, Lauren was dealing with Andy, who was trying it on as usual. Some things never changed.

  “Is it OK if I get a few pints on tick today, Lauren?” asked Andy. “I’ve got a bit of a cash flow situation.”

  “You know that’s not allowed, Andy. If Richard was here, he wouldn’t allow it and neither will I.” Lauren had long learned not to take any nonsense from Andy.

  “But he said before he went on holiday that it would be OK,” protested Andy. “I am one of your best customers, after all.”

  “May I refer you to Exhibit A,” responded Lauren, drawing Andy’s attention to a handwritten notice on the wall. She read out the contents: “Do not give credit to the following people under any circumstances”.

  She paused, then said, “Oh, and look whose name happens to be first on the list? Well I never, it’s Andy Green. Why are you so short of cash, anyway? I thought you were loaded.”

  “Well, I have got a fair bit of cash on me, but I need it for something else. Nobby The Professor has given me a tip for a handicap at Ayr this afternoon. It’s 33/1 and he reckons it can’t lose. So I was planning to pop next door to the bookies and put a decent bet on it.”

  “Nobby The Professor?” asked Lauren. “I wouldn’t take any notice of anything he’s got to say. He gave me a tip for the Grand National this year and it fell at the first fence.”

  Nobby The Professor was well known among the pub and betting shop regulars. He was a smart, grey-haired man in his late-fifties with an immaculately trimmed beard. He was forever walking around with a copy of the Racing Post and a small tablet computer into which he was continually inputting data.

  He claimed he’d created some software that was guaranteed to pick winners, and that he was a highly successful professional gambler. The regulars had their doubts about this. Other than the smart appearance, there was no obvious sign of wealth. The twenty-year-old Ford Mondeo he drove also hinted that he might be slightly exaggerating the truth.

  “No, I’m telling you, this one’s a cert,” said Andy. “Last night, while you were doing the karaoke, Nobby showed me his spreadsheet with the magic formula on it. In fact, he told me to get round there and back it this morning before the odds change.”

  Lauren looked up and saw that Kaylee had entered the pub. “Well, why don’t you go and do that now, and then maybe you can buy me a drink when it wins. Which it won’t,” she added.

  Andy headed out of the door, and Kaylee came over to the bar.

  “Hello stranger,” said Lauren. “Seems like ages since I’ve seen you.”

  “Sorry about that,” replied Kaylee. “I think I’ve come over all maternal and started nesting.”

  Kaylee took off her overcoat, revealing her growing bump.

  “Wow, look at you!” exclaimed Lauren. “You weren’t showing the last time I saw you. You know, I always thought I’d be the first to get pregnant. Let’s face it, I’ve taken enough chances.”

  Lauren felt Kaylee’s bump. “Is it making you feel broody?” asked the mother-to-be.

  “I don’t think so. Perhaps I’m just not the maternal type. What brings you here today, anyway? I’m guessing you’re not after a pint.”

  “A coffee would be nice,” replied Kaylee. “I came because I wanted to talk to talk to you about something serious.”

  “What is it?” asked Lauren. “Is everything alright with the baby?”

  “Yes, that’s all fine. It’s about the weather. Presumably you’ve been following the forecasts over the last week.”

  “Yes,” replied Lauren. “All doom and gloom again. Heavy snow, so it seems. That’s what everyone who comes in here has been saying.”

  “It’s going to be a lot worse than they are letting on,” said Kaylee. “I’ve run all sorts of simulations through the Met Office computer and they are all pointing to the same scenario – a severe winter the likes of which we haven’t seen in living memory, possibly the worst in a thousand years.”

  “Yes – but, we’ll be OK, won’t we?” asked Lauren. “After all, they have winters like that in Siberia every year, don’t they? And they manage OK.”

  “Yes, but they are geared up for it,” replied Kaylee. “They expect it. We don’t.”

  “Well, I’m in the right place here,” said Lauren. “I don’t have to worry about driving to work. There’s a huge stack of firewood in the car park, freezers full of food and enough booze to last a lifetime. Bring it on, I say. It will be quite cosy. I just hope I get snowed in with a seriously sexy man.”

  “Just be careful, that’s all,” replied Kaylee. “Charlie and I are heading off to the Canaries on holiday tomorrow. If things get really bad, I am going to suggest we don’t come back until after the baby’s born.”

  Lauren thought about this and then asked: “But what about your jobs?”

  “We’ll worry about that if and when it happens. If necessary, I’ll take my maternity leave early. And I’m sure Charlie can work something out.”

  The door opened and Andy came back in. He was not in a good mood. “Bloody typical,” he said, interrupting the girls’ conversation.

  “What’s happened? You haven’t lost on that horse already, have you?” asked Lauren. “Because don’t even think about trying to scrounge any drinks if you have.”

  “Chance would have been a fine thing,” replied Andy. “I got into the betting shop and tried to look up the horse on the interactive terminal and couldn’t find it. So I asked the manager where the prices were for Ayr, and he pointed me to another screen which said “RACING AT AYR ABANDONED DUE TO HEAVY SNOW”. So that’s well and truly scuppered.”

  “Well, look on the bright side,” replied Lauren. “At least you’ve still got your beer money for the weekend.” She began to pour him a pint.

  “Whoever heard of snow in October?” asked Andy, as he dug in his pocket for a tenner.

  “You see, it’s starting already,” said Kaylee, who had been listening with interest to the exchange. “Listen, I have to go, but please take care of yourself. Make sure you’ve got everything you need here in case you get snowed in. You could be here for weeks.”

  “Thank-you, babe,” replied Lauren. “I will.”

  The two old friends hugged, and Kaylee placed a chaste kiss on her lifelong friend’s cheek. Had they had any premonition
of what lay ahead, they may have lingered longer in the hug.

  But they had no way of knowing that this was the last time they would ever see each other.

  Chapter Eleven – 19th October 2029 (3.30pm)

  Josh had finished his lectures for the day and was sitting in his study waiting for Alice to join him. The room was the picture of academia. The walls were lined with old and dusty books, and the wooden floor and doors gave it a distinctly traditional feel.

  A large blackboard on the wall was covered in complex mathematical calculations. Most people used touch screen wall panels these days, but Josh felt the old-fashioned blackboard was more in keeping with the décor of the room. The howling wind outside was making the window panes of the old building rattle as he flicked through his newspaper.

  Coverage of the current weather outlook was extensive. But it was an article tucked away on page 17 of the paper that caught his eye.

  “Miracle of sailor who returned from the dead”, stated the headline. Josh read on:

  Friends and family were delighted last night to be reunited with sailor Robbie O’Neill, 32, of St Ives in Cornwall, who vanished after a storm off the Cornish coast over four months ago.

  His one-person Sunfish sailboat was found washed up on rocks a few miles from the small village of Zennor back in June. Despite a major search by the local coastguard, his body was never found and he was presumed dead.

  Now Mr O’Neill has amazed everyone by walking into the bar of his local pub, The Sloop in St Ives, looking somewhat the worse for wear but alive and well.

  Where he has been all this time seems set to remain a mystery. When questioned as to his whereabouts, Mr O’Neill had the following to say:

  “I got caught in a horrendous storm and could not get the boat safely to shore. I came to grief on some rocks on the coastline between St Ives and Zennor and managed to clamber ashore. I took shelter in some local caves where I must have passed out.