by Vance Huxley
“Some of the teenagers want a Christmas tree.”
“So do I.” Liz stopped and frowned. “Where from and does it have relatives?”
“Outside the wire and it presumably has lots of similar sized friends at least, unless the squirrels have eaten them all again.” Harold grinned when Liz scowled about the squirrel propaganda, then sobered again. “Rihannon has found a soldier boyfriend, who has disconnected the cameras. The idiots have been meeting under the bypass.”
Liz thought about it for a few moments, then hopped up to sit on the bench next to Harold. “Give. Do we need diagrams this time?” Harold gave, and they discussed but without a diagram. Harold asked another half dozen people he thought were sensible, and they all either fancied a Christmas tree or agreed with getting more charcoal. Just as a test, during the next two nights, Harold sent several couples across the exclusion zone to the bypass. Sure enough, the soldiers ignored anyone disappearing under the third span away from their post.A red-faced Nate explained that anyone going under the bypass should check with Rihannon first, so they didn’t bump into her soldier.The squaddie should report trespassers andshe didn’t want to put Lionel, Private Vaughn to the Army, in an embarrassing position. Except with herself, presumably.
Harold didn’t want to be embarrassed either, so Liz went to see Rihannon and explain. The lass agreed to schedule her future meetings with Lionel for three or four in the morning, at least until Liz gave her the all clear.
*
Mid-afternoon on the fifteenth of December, Haroldinvitedthe small group of excited teenagers, four couples now, to meet him in the dance house. “Nate, and the rest of you, we’ve agreed you can try to get a Christmas tree.” He waited a moment until they calmed down again. “There are conditions. Matti and Jeremy are allegedly sensible adults, but look young enough to be sneaking off for a cuddle, so they will come as well.” Matti’s giggle at that didn’t help. “If they say stop, you stop. There are a few more rules, or rather sensible precautions. Are you willing to stick by them?”
“Yes,” came from eight pairs of lips without any idea of what they’d agreed to.
“Only couples can go, so the soldiers don’t wonder why. You will be very, very quiet and careful, and bring the soil back to scatter on the fields. Use the same tracks there and back so your numbers aren’t obvious. We will send other couples to collect soil as you dig but everyone has to be Cinderella,all home by midnight. If you are there too long the Army might get curious.” Harold pointed to a selection of garden forks, spades, and empty home-made sacks. “Put those under your coats, even though it’s dark. Dig gently, no clanging on rocks.We have thick plywood, and timbers for crosspieces, so you can put plenty of earth and grass on top to disguise the hole. Make sure there are no tracks outside the fence if you succeed, in case someone wants another tree.” Harold gestured Matti and Jeremy forward. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Half of Orchard Close seemed to have heard of the scheme by the time the ten of them had the hole dug, two days later. The digging took longer than strictly necessarybecause the group wanted to get a decent sized tree! Any squaddie who noticed and watched them disappear among the concrete supports, and other couples wandering out there and back, must have turned a blind eye. The dirt collecting couples used the same tracks as the diggers, so daylight didn’t show too many footprints in the hard frost.
On tree night, Harold arranged a carol singing competition to mask any sounds, and divert attention. He judged the night to be dark enough just after eight.”Remember to saw very slowly, and stop to leave plenty of silent periods. Absolutely no chopping because sharp sounds travel too well at night. All of you have saws and knives?” The group showed them and re-buttoned their coats.”If you have time, cut branches off other trees, but don’t bring them tonight. Let’s get your tree first.”
“What are the branches for? Um, sorry.” Beverley pushed Nate forward again but Harold answered her.
“We want more wood, to make charcoal, but not until you get your tree.” A trumpet blared down the street. “That’s Jilli warming up. The carol singing will start in a moment, and should keep the soldiers distracted. Off you go and good luck.” As they headed along Orchard Close to their exit, voices and loud music rang out. Jilli had found volunteers to bash on impromptu drums, and some of the refugees remembered playing a recorder at school. A few others had dabbled, and more or less kept a tune. The singers didn’t seem to care, some of them couldn’t keep a tune either.
The crowd that gathered were vocal, the singers enthusiastic, and Jilli stuck to trumpets, saxophones and the one electric guitar the Barbies had parted with. She kept the emphasis on volume, and tried to keep the rest more or lessplaying the same notes. By midnight the lumberjacks were back with a bushy fir treenearly three metres tall, swearing they took it from inside a small wood where nobody would ever notice. They’d cut decent sized branches off several trees, and stacked them for retrieval later. The squaddies must have wondered about the cheer when the tree went up in the canteen, unless they thought there’d been a singing competition. The carols picked up again with a vengeance until onea.m., when all those taking part staggered home to bed.
*
The following day Harold plotted with various people. Any wood collectors had six nights to work in, because carols would only work as cover until Christmas. When asked, Jilli volunteered to blow her lungs out every night if needed. The teenager now had five volunteers who would play simple backing notes, to give her some respite and increase the volume.Doll suggested a dance, of course, but not the usual one. If the weather permitted, everyone would dance in the street to help distract the Army. The party would also go on a bit longer than usual, until one at least. That night,fourteen mixed couples went off into the dark at intervals,the first just after eight when the music and singing started.
A flashing torch under the bypass at ten o’clock told the Orchard Close guards that timber had been collected.A succession of couples left the dance to collect the loot. The raiders came back well after midnight with the last of a good haul of timber, all thick branches cleared of side shoots. The dance wound down, untila shout went up for Jilli to provide a slow smoochy number to finish properly. The amateurs fell silent while Jilli started to play an instrumental only version of White Christmas, on a saxophone.
Nobody even called for the hat. For the first time since the Crash, people simply asked whoever they wanted to dance. A good few sang along quietly, and others were wiping an eye. “My job, I believe.” Tessa slipped her arms around Harold and pulled him out into the street. “Unless you want more other women.” Harold noticed the hopefuls, pouting and then looking elsewhere for a partner.
He had to laugh, because Tessa had done the right thing. A few of the new refugees had already made a play for the gang boss. It wasa good career move for women already abused by the gangs and whose options were now, in their own eyes, limited. Tessa and Lizexplained to all the new girls, very quietly, that Orchard Close was different sotheir past didn’t matter here. A fewsimply didn’t believe that, while a couple really did want the status. The persistent ones believed Tessa, when she told them to back off Harold or she’d come for them with a gun.Hazel had issued similar warnings; as a squad leader, Alfie attracted similar interest.
As the crowd dispersed, Harold led a group to assess the stack of branches now stashed out of sight of the bypass. Liz crouched over the timber with a small torch, cranking to keep the light going. “Perfect. All good solid timber. Is there more?”
The lumberjacks and jills were there,bright-eyed and triumphant.Beverley pushed Nate forward, but Matti took pity and answered for him. “Plenty, Liz. We cut the branches from several trees, and made a start on the trunks. The ones we’ve started are all deep inside a small wood. Unless someone follows our track, they’ll never be discovered. Jeremy and I took turns standing guard but we didn’t see any sign of patrols.
“How much of a track?” Harold looked at the stack and
the cutters, and continued before Matti could answer. “Could we send more people down it, more woodcutters?”
“As long as they go from the fence to the wood along the single track, it shouldn’t show up any more than now. We used an existing trail that wandered a bit, like deer maybe would.” Matti smiled hopefully. “More people might look like a few more deer?”
“How many more?” Liz asked but everyone else had started wondering.
Harold hesitated, because he didn’t want to push his luck too much but Liz needed charcoal. “Twenty-four couples? There were at least that many went across the exclusion zone, if we count those collecting the wood from this side of the fence. They’ll have to leave a few at a time, not like some incipient orgy.”
“I’ll find volunteers, or more probably beat some off.” Matti hugged Jeremy and they left, murmuring to each other.
*
A ripple of suppressed excitementswept over Orchard Close the following day, followed by a lot of blade sharpening. Rambos and machetes were pressed into action because there weren’t enough saws or breadknives. As the couples allegedly seeking some private time left the walls in small groups, Harold watched the Army post. The last couple disappeared under the bypass without any alarm being raised. That had to be a deliberate blind eye, because despite the cloudy sky,the soldiers would be able to see themwithnight sights. Two hours later,more couples crossed to start collecting the logs, some of them substantial chunks of timber. Later, collections included two-metre-plus sections of what must be tree trunks. Once again the dance ended with a slow number, ‘Lady in Red’ this time, and now more were plucking up the courage to ask others to dance.
The lumber cutters confirmed they had cut down whole trees this time, claiming there were plenty more that were thin enough to be carried away. Harold waited all the following day for a reaction from the Army, or for a patrol to inspect the footprints in the light snow. The couples were using tracks left by others to reduce the impact, but still left half a dozen clear trails. Matti swore that on the far side everyone still used one track and tried to walk in a file. By evening Harold had decided the risk had to be worth it. He authorised thirty pairs of cutters,but this time he took some precautions in case the Army objected.
When Jilli played ‘I Only Have Eyes for You’ as the last dance,some of the woodcutters had already been home to get changed.The rest took off their coats and joined in anyway. After three dances in three nights, the residentswere well into the swing of it. Some were wearing real party clothes despite the cold. Hemlines were rising, and so was the temperature of some last dances even when it snowed, butnobody complained or slapped a face.Harold let it go,his sense of fair play insisted.He felt sure that if Mercedes turned up,his last dance wouldn’t be chaste, and would probably stray into grab-ass.
The following morning Harold couldn’t understand how the Army were missing all the movement, or rather why they kept ignoring it. He wondered the next night, and the next right up to when an Army searchlight illuminatedsix couples carrying timber. The porters were in the middle of the exclusion zone, obviously carrying lengths of raw timber. Before anyone opened fire, Harold cupped his hands and shouted. “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Just kids bringing firewood.”
A long silence followed, with the twelve frozen in place, before the bullhorn sounded. “Straight home and stay there. Oh-eight-hundred, Soldier Boy.” The sergeant! He wasn’t usually on duty at night.
“I’ll be there.” Harold turned to shout to the wood carriers. “Come on home, nice and steady.” He smiled quietly to himself as they did, because none of them put down their timber. Meanwhile Harold spoke one word into the short-range radio. “Oopsy.”
A single click answered, then moments later a doubleclick. The single click came from Alfie and Hazel, allegedly snogging under the arches but actually watching for the Army. Harold would bet coupons there’d be some real snogging, since the couple were safely out of his sight. Right now Alfie or Hazel would be ducking under the fence, to warn all the other wood carriers and cutters. The way home had been compromised.
Once under the fence the rest of the returning woodcutters moved along the bypass, ten more fifty-metre spans away from the Army post. They didn’t cross the exclusion zone until they could do so beyond the end of the fields, straight into the ruins. As Harold hoped, they were far enough away to avoid anyone watching from the Army post. Better yet, Doll, the person doubleclicking, waited with an armed squad to escort them home. The returnees brought everything they’d cut up to the moment they were stopped, despite the long detour to arrive home via the Annex. After stacking the wood there, everyone came across into Orchard Close and joined the dance.
*
The following morning,Harold presented himself at the bottom of the access road at eight o’clock as requested, unarmed except for a very big bowl of hot chips. “Far enough. What have you got there?”
“Breakfast. Chips for the squaddies. The girls just cooked them so they’re hot.”
“Coat off, give us a twirl, then bring them up nice and slow.” Harold did as told, then turned his back to be checked with a wand. The soldier took the chips back behind the sandbags.
“Turn round.” Harold did and tried to see just how annoyed the sergeant might be. The NCO wasn’t giving any hints, keeping his expression as neutral as his voice. He looked Harold up and down. “Soldier Boy.. Someone told me you were a cheeky bastard. You don’t think you can bribe the Army with deep fried potato, do you?”
“No. I’m just being friendly. At least consider them a sign of our appreciation. After all, nobody ended up shot.” Harold smiled and tried to keep it light.
“I don’t shoot people for being idiots, not when they’ve been encouraged by certain stupid soldiers.” A quick glance along the sandbags led to two soldiers and the corporal looking decidedly apprehensive. The sergeant took another step along his side of the sandbags so Harold kept pace. “But I am annoyed, more than a few chips can make up for. What the hell were those idiots doing, and why did you send them?”
Harold thought for a moment while Sarge ate his share of chips and took a couple more steps. He mentally shrugged and went for truth. “We’ve had a lot of youngsters come in over the last six months, running from a gang war. They wanted a proper Christmas, so they came to me with a scheme to get a Christmas tree. The ones who’d been here longer picked the idea up and ran with it.I said yes to keep some control. Then there was this hole, and all those trees, and charcoal is bloody expensive.”
“I thought you were a big bad gang boss.” Sarge had perfected sarcasm. “You could have told them piss off?”
“I’d have been trampled. Half the young people down there wanted a go, and nearly all of the people down there are under thirty.” Harold smiled quietly, because he’d never dare say this to a gangster. “Anyway, I’m not a proper gang boss. Much too soft and all that.”
The hint of humour in his voice didn’t reach Sarge’s face. “Yeah, I heard that. So you sent them out into the exclusion zone to get wood for charcoal.”
“No, they volunteered. I had to beat back the rest who wanted to go. Most of those people lived under another gang before coming here, or ran ahead of conquest. Our smith needs charcoal to make weapons and stop a repeat.” Harold looked straight at the sergeant, trying to show he wasn’t bullshitting. “I tried to keep it sensible, but once they proved one of the cameras doesn’t work? I didn’t suggest the party either.”
“No, but the noise and all that dancing allegedly kept these eagle-eyed defenders distracted.” Sarge relaxed and a little smile showed at last. “I knew about the camera but turned a blind eye.That Rihannon looks a nice lass, and she wasn’t selling sex or trying to get the idiot into the ruins. These days soldiers don’t usually get to meet women socially, not decent ones.” When he raised his voice, Harold realised how far from the other soldiers Sarge had moved.”I didn’t expect you to take liberties, and only found out when I came early for my nightly i
nspection.” Sarge turned to glare at the corporal. “Some people who should have known better had selective blindness.”
“No harm done? We won’t risk it again.” Harold doubted it was optional. “I bet the camera works now.”
“No it doesn’t, but our night sights do.” The sergeant had lowered his voice again. “So do the other cameras,those watching the other spans your people used to escape. I can’t fix that particular camera, or Private Vaughn will no doubt try to meet her in the ruins and not come back one night.” He held up a hand to stop Harold speaking. “Not because the lass will arrange anything, but there might be others lurking.”
“I appreciate that. I’ll stop the rest.” Harold knew it made him look weak, but he wanted Sarge to think twice before shooting if someone else got adventurous. “Or I’ll try because I have my own problem, two really. My own eagle-eyed defenders turned a blind eye as well, but worse is why the couples were risking it. We are too crowded, but up to now most female refugees were too busy avoiding men for it to matter. Now some girls have realised they are suddenly safe enough to dance and date young men, but that means they sometimes need a little privacy.”
“Not just here. We came from near an enclave with morals and laws, but some local asshole ran right over them.” Sarge shook his head. “The women who got away ran to us, and I had to take them in. A better option than getting caught, but not one I will sleep easy about. They went to work camps, and I’d rather not send any more women there.”
“Our women understand that they might be arrested and sent to camps. That’s why mainly men come up here with the chips, and the women hang back.” Even as he said it, Harold realised Rihannon at least must have broken that rule. “Doll heard about the medal so she won’t be coming near you.”
The sergeant ignored the reference to Doll. “The camps are bad, but my worry is about how many young women seem to think joining brothels is a better option.” He glared at Harold. “Which I didn’t say.” He glanced at the soldiers again, safely out of earshot. “The mushrooms don’t get the same rumours as sergeants.I’ve had the night to think this fiasco over, and I’ll make you an offer. If the animals come foryou,and your women run to us, I’ll have to arrest them.I don’t want to get posted and find someone like Rihannon in the local brothel. If you promise not to take liberties such as lumberjacking, I’ll forget to report the hole. If it all goes to hell, tell your women toescape through there and set off cross-country. They can make a life in the Derbyshire Peaks or the Scottish borders, someplace well away from big cities.”
