Chapter Seventeen
Riley
*
I climb back into the AV and sit here, trying to decide what to do. Suddenly, there’s a sharp rapping on the windscreen. I jump and look up. It’s Luc with a smile on his face. Standing next to him is a small wiry man in a worn tweed jacket and matching cloth cap. I open the door, ecstatic to see Luc. When I get out, I want to wrap my arms around him, but I restrain myself. The air smells of wet grass and manure.
‘You’re alright!’ I say. ‘I thought you were never going to wake up and then when I woke up and saw you weren't in the AV ... Where were you? Are you okay?’ I immediately feel awkward at my outburst. My cheeks burn and I shift from foot to foot.
‘Hey, Riley, I’m okay. Just feel a bit sick and I've got a banging headache. I woke up and needed a pee. I didn’t know where I was, but when I saw you lying on the back seat I didn’t know if you were alive or dead. I had to check you were breathing.’
‘What?’
‘Well I didn’t know. I still don’t know what happened. When I realised you were just asleep, I didn’t want to wake you. What happened? How did you get us out of there? Sorry, I haven’t introduced you. This is Fred. It’s his land we’re parked on.’
‘Morning.’ He tips his cap and gives a tight-lipped smile, but his eyes are warm and humorous. ‘I found your man here, watering my field and was wondering if you’d care to take some breakfast with us. Jessie’s just gotta take the cows across for milking.’
‘Umm, great, yeah. If you’re sure that’s okay,’ I stammer, taken aback by the man’s apparent friendliness after the hostilities of last night.
Luc looks at me and shrugs as if to say ‘why not’.
‘How are you?’ he asks me again. ‘Tell me everything. Are you alright? How's the AV? Does it still drive okay?’
‘I'm fine, the AV's fine. It drove okay last night, but it took a bit of a battering. Maybe we better look underneath and we should check the tyres.’
We do a brief check and the only damage we can see, is a bent wheel arch and scraped front bumper. The engine still starts fine and miraculously the tyres are unpunctured.
Fred waits while we’re doing this, then he explains we’ll have to take the long way round as his fields are electrified and wired-off and there’s a five-feet-deep ditch around them as well. It dawns on me I could have easily fallen into this ditch last night. He gestures to us to follow and then strides on ahead, leaving Luc and me to stumble after him.
We make our way across the dew-sodden field. I’m still wearing my flip flops – the most impractical footwear on the planet - and have to skirt around prickly thistles and large steaming cow pats. As we walk, I fill Luc in on what happened last night after he’d been knocked out.
‘God, Riley, you saved our lives! You’re amazing and I was completely useless.’
‘Well, there’s not a lot you can do when you’re unconscious.’ My cheeks flush under his gaze.
‘True.’ He grins.
‘Changing the subject though, do you think it’s safe to follow these people?’
‘Well, I spoke to both of them for about half an hour before you woke up and they seem normal and decent. And they’re offering us breakfast. I’m starving, aren't you?’
I realise I am.
We’re nearly at the barn. The cows are still mooing and I spot a cockerel on the fence, crowing for all he’s worth. A couple of collies sit to attention in the yard and then eagerly circle the woman as she exits the field with the cattle. They make me think of Woolly. It feels like ages since I’ve seen him, even though it was only yesterday. I almost wish we’d brought him with us.
She wheels a large scaffold tower out of the barn and across the smooth surface of the yard, over to where we’re waiting outside the barbed wire fence by the ditch. Fred pulls out a long wide plank from under a nearby bush. It has a thick groove in the top and he swings it up so it slots into a bar on the top platform of the tower. The bottom of the plank rests on the ground by our feet. Jessie climbs up the tower and throws us down a rope which is tied to the top of the tower. Fred uses the rope to haul himself, hand-over-hand, up the plank and onto the scaffold platform.
‘Up you come!’ he shouts. Luc and I look at each other and follow him up the plank. I’ve got slight doubts about following strangers into a place that obviously has no immediate route for escape. But, not wanting to appear rude, I follow his instructions and so does Luc. When we reach the top, Fred pulls up the plank and passes it down to Jessie. Then we all climb down the tower and Jessie wheels it away, back into the shed.
‘Cor, I’m getting too old for that climbing malarkey,’ Fred chuckles. ‘Haven’t done that in a while. We’ve got another way in and out, but I don’t know you well enough to show you it just yet, no offence.’
‘None taken,’ Luc says.
Jessie beckons us and we follow her past the barn and round the back, to a sweet Georgian-style farmhouse built from mellow grey stone and half-covered in dark green creeper.
‘Fred’s going to do the milking. He’ll be along later,’ she says in a husky, gravely voice.
We enter the house through a side door, which takes us into a freezing scullery. The dogs trot after us and lie down on a doggy-smelling rug, where they stay, looking somewhat dejected. Jessie slips off her Wellingtons and slides a pair of espadrilles on. We wipe our feet on the mat and follow her into the main, warmer part of the kitchen. She gestures to a chipped Formica table with six mismatched wooden chairs and we sit down gratefully and look around.
It’s a large, but cosy room with a slate floor and awful green textured wallpaper - functional, rather than aesthetic, but with a nice homey feel. On the shabby Welsh dresser sit framed photographs of children - a boy and a girl in various stages of childhood. I feel strangely comforted by the dresser’s warm honey and treacle tones. Its gleaming brass handles rest on backplates shaped like birds with their wings outstretched and I think back to the second scare I had last night when the owl nearly collided with the AV. If it hadn’t been for that startling encounter, I wouldn’t have stopped here, scared and exhausted. I get the superstitious thought that maybe the owl was Skye guiding us to kindness and shelter.
Jessie reaches into a kitchen cupboard and takes out an ancient looking bottle.
‘Hydrogen peroxide,’ she says. ‘I’m going to dilute it to clean that wound on your head,’ she says to Luc.
I see him wince. ‘Okay, thanks,’ he says.
She dabs some on the side of his head and it starts foaming. Luc doesn’t make a sound, but I notice him gripping the sides of his chair.
‘There,’ she says. ‘I’ll brew up some comfrey root tea to help the bruising. It‘ll take about an hour or so. Remind me after breakfast.’
‘Thanks,’ says Luc.
‘Now, on to more pleasant things. Tea? I’m afraid we’ve only got mint, but it’s quite delicious.’
‘Yes please,’ we chorus.
‘I’ve got some homemade bread and jam, if you’d like, or would you prefer bacon and eggs?’
I’m absolutely starving. I hadn’t realised how much, until she started talking about food and now I can feel the build-up of saliva in my mouth and the giant-sized hole in my stomach.
‘Tell you what,’ continues Jessie. ‘We’ll have the lot.’
She starts to prepare the food on a cream wood burning stove. It radiates a gentle heat, taking the edge off what would have been a very chilly room, if the freezing scullery is anything to go by.
As she cooks, we sip our tea and I tell her about the previous night’s unwelcome encounter. She listens without speaking; just nodding or shaking her head at the appropriate times.
‘And then I woke up and saw you with your cows in the field,’ I say, my story complete.
‘Unfortunately, your tale doesn’t surprise me,’ she replies, as she serves up our delicious-smelling English breakfast and joins us at the table. ‘When we go into the village, we alwa
ys hear some awful tale about run-ins with the raiders. It’s getting worse and there’s no one to keep them in check. I don’t feel as safe here as I used to.’
‘Are they your children?’ I point to the photographs on the dresser.
‘Yes, that’s Freddie Junior and that’s Melissa.’
‘How old are they?’
‘Freddie’s nineteen now and Lissy’s sixteen.’
‘Same age as me,’ I say. ‘I’m sixteen.’
‘When’s your birthday?’ asks Jessie.
‘Beginning of May.’
‘Same as Lissy.’ There’s an awkward silence.
‘This is absolutely delicious, Jessie,’ says Luc.
‘Mmm,’ I agree. ‘It’s so kind of you to go to all this trouble.’
‘Not at all, it’s my pleasure.’ She smiles. I like her face. It’s kind and sweet. But she looks sad. I suppose it’s a hard, lonely life. I wonder where her children are.
We’re on to our third cup of tea and all but licking our plates clean, when Fred comes in through the scullery door.
‘Finished?’ Jessie asks him with a smile.
‘As if!’ Fred replies.
‘I’ll give you a hand after breakfast. Wash your hands and sit down. Yours is in the pan. I’ll serve it up.’
‘Lovely.’ He turns to us. ‘I see you’re enjoying the produce - all home grown you know.’
‘It’s fantastic,’ I enthuse.
‘Really good,’ says Luc. ‘Thanks so much for inviting us.’
‘You must stay as long as you like,’ Fred offers. ‘We don’t get many visitors.’
‘You forgot to remind me about the comfrey root!’ scolds Jessie. She takes a cloth and soaks it in the brewed tea. Then she places it on Luc’s head.
‘That feels great,’ he says. ‘Really good. Thanks.’
After breakfast, Luc goes back to the AV to check it’s still safely hidden from view and to do a more thorough check for damage, whilst Jessie gives me a tour of the farm. Fred says he has farm business to attend to, but will see us later this evening.
The farm is a fair size and they’ve got cattle, pigs, a tiny flock of sheep, ducks, chickens and rabbits. They also have an enormous kitchen garden which is charming, as well as practical.
Luc returns at about 10.30am and we both feel exhausted. We offer to help out with the chores, but Jessie won’t hear of it and tells us to go into the lounge, take a sofa each and have a sleep. She brings us in a couple of quilts, covers us over and draws the curtains.
‘Help yourselves to food and drink. I’ll be out in the yard if you need me.’ And she closes the door behind us. We’re alone again and I want to talk to Luc, but I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.
‘She’s so nice,’ says Luc.
‘I know,’ I yawn. ‘They don’t even know us. They’re really kind people.’ I snuggle down onto the soft floral sofa, pull the quilt up to my nose and sleep.
Chapter Eighteen
Riley
*
I awake to the sound of the grandfather clock striking four. I’m completely disorientated. The events of the past twenty four hours unfurl slowly. Daylight spills in from behind one side of the heavy velvet curtains so it must be four in the afternoon.
Luc’s still asleep on the sofa opposite me. Fred and Jessie haven’t even asked who we are or why we’re on the road alone. They seem such nice people and I feel we owe them an explanation, but I get the feeling they wouldn’t approve of what we’re doing. Luc stirs and interrupts my musings.
‘Hello,’ I say.
‘Hi,’ he replies. And we both fall about laughing at the bizarreness of the situation.
Later, we sit at the kitchen table and help Jessie to prepare the vegetables for dinner. She clucks around us like a mother hen, asking us to sample various delicious foodstuffs. The room has warmed up considerably and is thick with steam and cooking smells.
‘We’ll be stuffed before we even start dinner,’ says Luc
‘I know,’ says Jessie. ‘But you have to try a couple of slices of this cucumber, it’s really good.’
We still haven’t seen any sign of their children and I don’t like to ask. Maybe they’re off visiting family or friends. It’s odd they haven’t said where they are. But then I suppose it’s also odd we haven’t told them what we’re doing. So I resolve to mind my own business and just be thankful we’ve met this hospitable couple.
Soon, dinner is ready and Jessie calls to Fred, who’s upstairs getting changed out of his work clothes.
I feel relaxed and well-rested. I’m not so worried about Luc’s health anymore. He seems to be recovering really well, although the bruise still looks quite nasty.
Jessie’s telling us about the surrounding area. ‘There’s a compound just north of here, but we always preferred to be independent. We do some good trade with them and nowadays they’re friendly enough, not like it used to be at the beginning. In any case, we have to stay here just in case …’
Fred walks into the room and touches her arm gently. ‘We’re in a bit of a situation here,’ he says to us. ‘Something happened a while ago.’
‘You don’t have to explain anything to us,’ Luc says.
‘No, it’s okay. We’d like to tell you. You might’ve thought it strange our kids aren’t around.’
I’m intrigued, but neither of us speaks.
‘It happened nine years ago,’ continues Fred. ‘We’d gotten used to the way things were, with all the troubles and everything. The place was secure; locked tight against raiders and looters. We’d already abandoned a lot of our land over the years and most of our livestock had been stolen. We’re lucky to have what we got really. But at the time, we were seriously considering moving out of the farm and into the compound so the kids could go to school and we wouldn’t be so cut-off.
‘Freddie was ten and Lissy was seven. One day ...’ He broke off and paused for a moment. ‘… One day, Jess and I were tending to the animals as usual. We asked the children to sweep out the yard and feed the chickens. Jessie came back down to the house to cook breakfast, but the children weren’t in the yard and it was still unswept. She got cross and went into the house to see what they were playing at, but they weren’t there neither. She assumed they must have been with me, helping with the cows. They weren’t, and we never saw ‘em again.’
I realise what he’s telling us – that their children have gone missing. There’s a long, heavy silence. Luc breaks it.
‘What? You mean they disappeared?’
Jessie sighs. ‘We didn't have the same security measures on the farm then that we have now. We were stupid, naive. It’s the not-knowing that eats you up inside. I mean they could be anywhere. I refuse to believe they’ve gone for good. This morning. We thought, well for a second when Fred saw Luc ...’
‘Oh God!’ I say, comprehending. ‘You thought we could have been them coming home! I’m so sorry.’
‘That’s right,’ Fred replies. ‘We wouldn’t normally invite total strangers into our home, but we saw you two and we thought of our children and Jessie’s a big softie and begged me to invite you both in for breakfast. So you see, we can’t move on to a safer location in case they manage to find their way back to us.
‘The local compound is very secure now, with home grown provisions and a lot of new amenities and we wouldn’t have to live on our nerves like this. They’ve already offered us a cottage that’s just come available, but we can’t leave because we have to be here when Freddie and Lissy come home, else how would they find us again? We’re stuck here, in limbo. Waiting.’
I feel awful and don’t know what else to say. The rest of our dinner stays cold on the plates. I get up to put my arms round Jessie, who gives me a kiss and pats the back of my hand.
How will they ever be able to move on with their lives when they don’t know what’s happened to their children? I don’t want to think about it. Instead, I think about my sheltered upbringing and compare it to
the majority of the population who live in fear and uncertainty, like this poor unlucky couple. I’ve seen nothing on our journey that comes close to the taken-for-granted life I’ve led so far and I feel an overwhelming gratitude to my parents.
Then I get a stab of guilt. Aren’t they too, worrying themselves stupid about our safety? They don’t know if we’re alive or dead. I feel ashamed. The note we left was just a thoughtless gesture and will do nothing to calm their fears; it will only make them worry more. I decide to contact them as soon as we can. But the next opportunity to do this probably won’t be until we reach Century Barracks in Warminster.
Then something occurs to me. Something so obvious, I wonder why I didn’t think of it the moment Fred and Jessie started to speak of their children’s disappearance. It must have occurred to Luc too, because we both look at each other and mouth the same word, ‘Grey.’
Luc shakes his head at me and looks away and I can tell he doesn’t want me to say anything to Fred and Jessie. I’m itching to tell them what we know, but I can see Luc isn’t so keen. It’s too late to keep it from them though, as they look directly at us, having missed nothing of our unsubtle exchange.
‘Do you think it was James Grey’s lot?’ I ask Luc.
He frowns at me, but Fred and Jessie aren’t stupid and I don’t think it’s right to keep this from them anyway.
‘Who?’ ask Fred and Jessie together.
‘Umm.’ I start to feel nervous about what I’m going to tell them, but I continue. ‘James Grey. From Salisbury.’
‘Never heard of him,’ says Jessie. ‘Fred?’
‘No. Doesn’t ring any bells,’ he answers. They turn to look at me, as it’s clear Luc doesn’t want to speak. He’s shaking his head at me but I think they deserve to know.
‘Please, tell us what you can,’ says Jessie.
I’m not sure where to start.
‘Tell us.’ Her voice is barely a whisper now. She’s shaking and tears roll down her cheeks. ‘I don’t even want to let myself hope there’s a chance you might know what happened after all this time.’ She pushes back her chair and stands up unsteadily. Fred rises and put his arms around her. He turns to face me and Luc and there is anger in his eyes.
Outside - a post-apocalyptic novel Page 9
