‘This is wood-fired and just does cooking and heating, like a stove,’ said Jamie. ‘There are no controls for a boiler or central heating.’ Jane agreed with him. To the right of the fireplace, in the run of worktop, was a conventional gas cooker and oven; obviously for use during warmer months when the range wouldn’t be needed. A large ceramic butler sink and wooden drainer were against the rear wall, overlooking the garden. The kitchen had three doors; one out to the hall, another into the lounge to the left, and the third led into a utility room. In there was another butler sink and wooden drainer, with a washing machine, tumble-dryer and dish-washer; not that they’d be of any use. The huge lounge ran the whole length of the house, with a large open fire in the centre.
‘It’s a shame there isn’t a log-burner in here, rather than a fire,’ he said. ‘They’re far more efficient with fuel. Trouble with an open fire is that most of the heat is lost up the chimney.’
‘Still, a girl can’t have everything she wants! On balance, I think the fact that it’s next door to you outweighs that.’
‘I agree. And it could be a possible project for the future to install one; who knows?’
They went out through another door into the hall. Opposite was a dining room behind the kitchen, a small study to the front, and a cloakroom with toilet between them.
‘There are four bedrooms upstairs,’ Jamie said, ‘and a large bathroom, with an en-suite to the rear bedroom. There’s not much point going up, unless you want to.’
She shook her head. ‘Not right now, anyway.’
They went outside and carried the ladder back to the garage, then went inside to make some tea. While making it he turned to Jane. ‘Well, what do you think?’
‘I think it will do fine. It’s not perfect, from a purely survivalist point of view, but it’s got a wood-fired range and an open fire, which are the most important aspects. Strange, isn’t it, how our viewpoints have changed, and everything we look at now is from a utilitarian perspective?’
‘I know what you mean. It’s a big house, though, and it’ll be difficult to heat in the winter.’
‘I thought of that, too, while we were looking round. One solution would be to bring a bed downstairs into the lounge in winter, or I could sleep on the sofas. If the doors to the hall were kept closed it would prevent heat from being lost upstairs. With just the door between the kitchen and lounge open, and between the range and the fireplace, I’m sure it will be warm enough.’
‘Yes, I agree; that might be the best thing to do. So, is that a thumbs-up for your new home?’
She smiled. ‘Definitely! The pros easily outweigh the cons.’
Jamie smiled back. ‘Good. We’ll get started straight away in removing the bodies.’
He gave her a cup of tea then took his outside for a smoke and sat in the porch. She came out to join him and said ‘What shall we do with them?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m not sure; any thoughts?’
She thought for a few seconds. ‘Well, I saw a stack of old tarps in the garage. We could make some body-bags from them, put them in the Toyota and take them to the skip where you dumped the others and burn them.’
‘That’s a good idea. It would save us having to drag them through the garden and down the steps to the beach.’ After a while, he added ‘Something’s bothering me, Jane. I’m not a scientist or a doctor, and I don’t know whether we’re now immune from the plague because we caught it and survived, or if we can catch it again. I know with some viruses you can build up immunity, but the plague isn’t a virus, it’s a bacterium, and I don’t know if the same thing applies.’
‘Oh God! I never thought of that. I just kind of assumed that I couldn’t catch it again; but now you mention it, I’m not sure.’
‘I know bacteria can’t survive out in the open for more than a few hours, so touching things and surfaces isn’t a problem. But those bodies might still contain the plague bacteria. Or would they? Do the bacteria need a living organism to survive in and die off at the same time as the host body?’
Jane shook her head. ‘I haven’t the faintest idea, but we can’t take the chance, can we?
‘No, we can’t. I think when we remove the bodies we should be booted and suited, with rubber gloves, masks and visors, just to be sure. Then we’ll burn everything afterwards. We can go to Screwfix to get boiler suits and the rest of the stuff. It’s in Beeching Road, not far from the skip, and just around the corner from my flat.’
At that, he had a thought and groaned. ‘God, I’m stupid!’
‘What is it?’
‘Well, I’ve been driving the Land Rover around for the last week, and now the Toyota as well, and it didn’t occur to me that my car is still sitting outside my flat with about three-quarters of a tank of petrol in it! It’s a Seat Ibiza 1.4, and much more economical than the trucks. If there are trips we have to make where we don’t need to carry big loads, we can use that. It’s got to be good for around four hundred miles.’
Jane tutted then grinned. ‘You’re not the only one who’s stupid! My car’s still sitting round the back of my block and the same thing applies. I haven’t used it since before I got infected, and forgot about it!’
‘Ha-ha! Okay, I’ll walk back to my flat and get my car, then go round to Beeching Road to get the stuff we need and drive back here. I should be about forty-five minutes.’
‘In the meantime, I’ll make three body-bags from those tarps. There are rolls of duct tape in the garage, and plenty of twine. Would you pick up some more tarps while you’re there in case we don’t have enough?’
‘Okay, no problem,’ he replied.
Jamie got his rucksack and put the sawn-off in it, along with a hammer and a wrecking bar, and found his car keys. His knife in its sheath had become a permanent fixture on his belt, as had his Leatherman multi-tool. He put on his coat and hat and just before leaving remembered to check Jane’s shoe-size.
He walked to the end of the road and turned left into Richmond Avenue, then crossed Cooden Drive and under the railway. He turned right into Terminus Avenue, walking at a steady pace. As he went, he saw blossom on some fruit trees along the way, which was a good sign. Hopefully, by the end of summer they would be laden with apples, pears and cherries for them to pick, store and preserve.
Arriving outside his flat, he was tempted to go inside but decided not to. That was his old life, and he had everything he needed from it anyway. His new life lay ahead, at the bungalow and with Jane. He unlocked his car, got in and turned the key in the ignition. The engine turned over slower due to the battery being run-down, but it caught after a while and fired into life. He patted the dashboard and smiled, then drove round to Screwfix on Beeching Road and parked outside, leaving the engine running to charge the battery a bit more.
The front door was locked, so he got the hammer and smashed the glass, reached in to turn the latch and went inside. After searching up and down the aisles in all the racks, he found what he wanted. He got Wellington boots, disposable boiler suits, several pairs of thick rubber gloves, industrial dust masks and two face visors. He also took several packs of tarps in various sizes, rolls of duct tape, two yard brooms and two shovels. As a last thought, he picked up a few bottles of methylated spirits.
He loaded the car and after a couple of trips was ready to leave. He was back at the bungalow in less than five minutes and parked on the drive beside the Toyota. The door was open and Jane came out to help unload the car.
‘Hiya; any problems?’
‘No, it was pretty straightforward, really. Didn’t take much to break in and I found everything we needed.’
On the driveway were three improvised body-bags made from blue tarps. They were taped all round with duct tape to seal the edges. All they had to do was to push the remains off the bed and onto the tarp, pull up the sides and ends and then seal them with more tape.
Jamie looked at them, nodding. ‘Excellent- they should do the trick.’
‘Right, let’s get th
is bloody thing over and done with!’ to which he agreed.
She got into the Toyota, drove into the road then reversed back onto the drive next door, stopping close to the front door. They got changed into the boiler suits, boots, gloves and face masks, then Jamie picked up a broom and the shovel, while Jane took the body-bags. They went in and up the stairs to the rear bedroom first. Although muted by the masks they could still smell the decomposing bodies.
They laid a tarp on the floor beside the bed, pulled the covers off and used the shovel and broom to push the first body onto the tarp. It was a repulsive task and they also felt sad for having to treat the remains this way, but there was no alternative. They pulled the sides and ends together, taped them up so it was sealed, then carried it down the stairs and lifted it into the truck. They repeated the process with the second body and then moved to the small bedroom and did the same with the little girl. Under their masks and visors, both had tears in their eyes.
When all three bodies were in the truck they went back up and brought down the bedding and mattresses and piled them on top of the bodies. They stripped off the protective clothing and last of all the gloves, then threw them on top, too. After putting their shoes back on, they closed the garage and house and got into the truck. Jane drove to the skip on Beeching Road and reversed up to it; the remains of the three other bodies were still smoking.
Jamie opened the tailgate, climbed in near the cab and pushed the mattresses and clothing into the skip with the clean shovel, while Jane helped from the side with the other broom. It wasn’t an easy task as the mattresses were heavy, but they got it done. Both of them were silent throughout. They did the same with the body-bags, threw the broom and shovel in after them and poured the bottles of methylated spirits over the lot. He’d thought it would do the same job, but save on precious petrol.
They moved the truck away then he lit a rag wrapped around a stone and threw it into the skip. The meths ignited and they got back in the truck and drove home in silence. Jane parked on the drive then they went inside and through to the kitchen, where Jamie poured two glasses of Scotch and passed one to her. They raised their glasses in a silent toast and downed them.
‘Well, thank God that’s over and done with,’ said Jane.
Ten
Over a late lunch they decided to go to Jane’s apartment that afternoon and move her possessions into next door. She was eager to get settled-in as soon as possible, and Jamie asked her how much stuff she had to move. She thought for a minute, going over in her mind what she needed and what she wanted to bring with her to the new house.
‘I think we’ll get it all into two truck-loads easily. Obviously, there’s a lot of crap that has no place in my new life. Apart from some personal and sentimental things it’s mainly clothes, bedding, some favourite cooking equipment, some books and various other things. After that it’s just food and water that I’ve stored. It might be an idea to bring extra water containers and a funnel as I’ve got a lot of rain-water collected on the roof. We can bring it back and empty it into the new water-butt.’
Jamie thought he would test her a little; with a wry smile he said ‘I suppose we’ll need to make a separate trip for all your shoes.’
She feigned indignation, but couldn’t sustain it and burst out laughing. ‘Good one! Actually, I’m more of a jeans, boots and comfortable shirt kind of girl.’
He smiled. ‘I guessed that, which was why I said it.’
She looked wistful for a second. ‘God; how nice it feels to laugh again- I mean, really laugh!’
‘I know what you mean. I haven’t done too much laughing in recent months.’ They smiled.
‘You know something I find ironic? I- along with most women- used to spend a small fortune every year on “beauty” products;’ she mimed inverted commas with her fingers, ‘toners, cleansers, moisturisers, make-up, etc. I haven’t used any of that crap in over three months, and my skin is in better shape now than it was back then. It makes me think that us women have been sold a crock of shite for most of our lives!’
Jamie laughed and nodded. ‘Well, that’s the power of advertising and the media for you.’
‘Furthermore,’ she continued, ‘I haven’t shaved my legs or armpits in as many months and I’ve stopped using deodorant, because what’s the point? And I often go for days without washing. I’ve got used to all of that by necessity, and yet I feel more comfortable with myself than I have in years; it’s bizarre! Oh- and I’ve also lost well over a stone from all the right places!’
Jamie mimicked an American advertising voice-over. ‘Are you unhappy with your beauty regime? Tired of products that just don’t deliver? Want to lose weight? Then what you need is The Hoffmann Plague to get you into shape: it’s the ultimate detox!’ Jane was in the process of taking a mouthful of coffee and it spurted out all over the table as she burst into laughter. She wiped her mouth with her hand and they couldn’t stop laughing. After a while they composed themselves and cleared things away, smiling as they did so. It felt so nice to be able to smile and laugh again with someone, even in the face of adversity.
They decided Jane should take the Toyota to her apartment and start packing: there wasn’t much Jamie could do in that respect, so he would bring the Land Rover in two hours and help carry things down and load up the trucks. Before she left, he took the Smith and Wesson from the dresser drawer and handed it to her, along with a handful of extra shells. Things turned serious again after their brief interlude of laughter.
‘I don’t think you should go out on your own unarmed any more, so take this for now; it should fit in your pocket.’ He showed her how to open the cylinder and push the ejector rod to remove the spent shells. ‘You don’t even need to cock it. All modern revolvers are double-action, which means the first half of the trigger-pull cocks it and the second half releases the hammer to fire it. But you can cock it manually if you want. That looks especially good if you’re pointing it at someone; it shows intent!’
He demonstrated it to her, and how to safely release the hammer again if she didn’t need to fire it. He reloaded the gun and gave it to her. She had a deep inside pocket in her coat that the revolver fitted in, and the spare shells went in her left outside pocket.
‘I’m going to cut down the shotgun that we got from your attackers and make another sawn-off for you to have. It’ll be a good weapon to carry around with you; there’s nothing better at close range and it doesn’t take much aiming. And believe me; no one’s going to fuck with you if you’re pointing a sawn-off at them! Plus, of course, if you’re out and you see a rabbit or a duck, or something, you can bag it for our dinner! We’ll have some practice either tonight or tomorrow.’
She gave a slightly nervous but grateful smile and, on impulse, gave him a quick hug. ‘Thanks, Jamie,’ she said, and then left. He heard the Toyota start up and drive off, then looked at his watch to note when he had to meet her. He picked up the shotgun, went into the garage and lit the gas lamp. He hadn’t looked at it properly since picking it up from the road the day before, but it was an older design than his, with external hammers rather than the internal ones that his model had. It looked a bit short and, on inspection, he found that someone had already cut down the barrel by probably a foot.
He secured it in a vice on the work-bench and cut off the barrels with a hacksaw to a few inches in front of the fore-end, then removed the burrs and smoothed the ends with a round file and sandpaper. He made a new attachment for the sling and fitted it on the front stock, so Jane would be able to carry it on her shoulder by its strap if she wanted to. After that he reloaded it and went back into the kitchen.
He put the gun on the table then made some coffee and went outside for a smoke. As he was walking down the garden he spotted two pigeons together in a tree next door. Don’t move, he thought. He put his cup down, rushed back to the kitchen and picked up the shotgun from the table, then came back out. They were still there and he walked slowly to within about seven yards of them. He
raised the gun and took aim as best he could: with almost no barrels left it was a bit awkward, but at this range it wouldn’t be a problem. He cocked both hammers then pulled the trigger for the first barrel and both pigeons fell off the branch in a flurry of feathers. He took the shotgun back inside, fetched the step-ladder and climbed over the wall to retrieve the birds.
He left them in the porch for Jane to prepare when she got back. He’d never done it before and didn’t want to make a hash of it, so decided to let her show him how later. He finished his coffee and went into the conservatory to check on the seawater evaporation. All the water was gone and there was a layer of salt crystals around the dish’s edge. He licked his finger, wiped it around the rim and tasted it. It had a pleasant flavour, just like the sea salt he had used in his cooking for years, and he smiled.
It was still less than the two hours they’d agreed, but he thought he might as well leave now. He got the Land Rover out of the garage, put some water containers in the back, closed the garage and drove off. Jane saw him approaching along West Parade and went down to the entrance on Sackville Road to let him in. He parked the truck behind the Toyota then went up with her. She had most things ready so they carried them down to the trucks. Jane’s leg was still rather painful so Jamie did most of the work, but she insisted on helping.
When the majority was loaded, he went up to the roof with the large water containers, while Jane carried on packing the smaller items. He filled them with the funnel from her many buckets, tubs and bowls, then carried them down to the trucks. He went back up for the containers that had lids but left the few remaining ones that were open. Before going down for the last time he leaned on the parapet and looked out, east and west. It was a fine view and he could see for at least ten miles; east towards Hastings and west towards Eastbourne and Beachy Head beyond.
When all the water was loaded he went up to Jane’s apartment to help with the last few things. He found her sitting on the sofa crying her eyes out, clutching a framed photograph to her chest. He sat down, putting his arms around her, and she leaned into him and sobbed, her chest heaving. After a while she wiped her eyes on her sleeve and showed him the photo; it was of Jane, her mother and two sisters, standing smiling in front of the De La Warr Pavilion. They all looked so alike.
The Hoffmann Plague Page 9
