by M J Dees
“Me too. God, the lice and the rats.”
Jim laughed.
“I know what you mean,” he said.
*
Before going to work, Jim went for an eye test.
“The muscle in the left eye seemed to be paralysed,” said the optician. “The right eye is normal. I’m going to prescribe a pair of glasses. We will neutralise the left eye with an opaque lens in the glasses. It could be diabetes, get tested, or you could have had a minor stroke.”
“A stroke?” said Jim, shocked. “I’m not even forty yet.”
“It’s possible to have strokes much earlier than that,” said the optician. “My father had a case of a boy who had a stroke at 13.”
Jim went to work to find David still working.
“What are you doing here?” Jim asked.
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean? You’re in your 70s and you’ve got cancer. You don’t need to be here.”
“I need to be here, Jim. I’m clinging to life, I’m bored to death at home.”
Jim and David sat close to each other as they worked. It was incredibly monotonous, but it kept David busy. He was occupied, content, still earning, among people and most of all, he was still alive.
Frequently throughout the shift, Jim had to calm him down because David would take offence at the slightest comment and fly into a fit of rage, swearing revenge. Jim thought David might bring ruin not just on himself but all the others with foreign heritage working at the factory.
On the way home, an old man shouted at Jim: “Foreign dog!”
*
Jim went back to the doctor again, hoping for another sick note, but it was a different doctor.
“Out of the question,” said the doctor. “At these times, you are only 38. The blind can work and you have a good eye, you will get used to it. Rest for a week. I will put you down as fit for work from next Thursday.”
He went home and told Annabel.
“I’ve news for you as well,” said Annabel. “They sent Quinn to a camp. We have to deal with his wife now.”
*
Jim was going down the stairs of the factory when the supervisor approached him.
“They have released you from duty,” he said.
Jim was relieved but also concerned that his release was only possible because the doctor judged him to be genuinely unfit.
He went home and tried to read a little, but fell asleep on the sofa with the book still in his hand. Reading exhausted him with only one good eye, and he would have happily continued the virtual slave labour if it meant healthy eyes.
Pereira brought him a newspaper. Jim knew he did it to curry favour, hoping Jim and Annabel wouldn’t complain that he was cheating them on the shared utility bills.
Annabel was less than pleased about Jim’s release from work.
“How are we going to survive?” she said. “I have to beg for things as it is.”
“I’m not sure how long I can take all this,” Jim complained. “Only today I heard a story of foreign woman being given abortions so they can continue to work. Stories of terrorists everywhere.”
Jim showed Annabel the newspaper. The front page had a quote from Anderson:-
Only a nation of iron will hold its own in the storms of our time. It must possess innards of iron and a heart of steel.
“I’ve heard rumours of an uprising, of assassination attempts,” said Annabel.
*
“Pereira’s cat has had kittens,” Annabel informed Jim. “they have offered us a couple.”
“I don’t trust them,” said Jim.
“Everyone with foreign heritage no longer trusts each other.”
“And why should they, when they could betray us at any moment? The Pereiras warn us about the Fernandos and the Fernandos warn us against the Pereiras.”
“It won’t last much longer. I heard a rumour that Europe will cut our gas off.”
“And they ask us to do our bit by saving energy, but who does that benefit? Certainly not us. I heard they only allow publishers to publish non-fiction now and even those have to be approved by the Ministry of Information and they are going to close the theatres, they’ve already closed the philosophy departments in the universities.”
“At least we don’t hear about the wildfires anymore.”
“They are still happening, it’s just that they are so common, they are no longer newsworthy.”
Annabel ignored him and, instead, went and played on the piano in the hall.
Olivia arrived from school, not so much as a school as an institute for children of foreigners, in which Unity attempted to re-educate them.
She gave Jim a newspaper, which Pereira had given her. It was full of news about how the foreigners had to be overcome if the British were to continue to live in freedom. ‘Better dead than a slave to foreigners,’ the headline read. ‘Britain never shall be slaves’ the article continued echoing the words of Rule Britannia, ‘we are amid a people’s war, defending ourselves against the foreign invaders.’
“I hear everyone is listening to the freedom podcasts from Europe. They are in English,” said Annabel, trying to lift the mood.
But Jim was too engrossed in his newspaper.
“Look at this,” he said. “Students in the final years of school are to be sent to essential work.”
“Olivia is too young, though,” said Annabel.
“Fortunately. And it says here that there was a terrorist attack at a foreigners’ camp. I bet they are just saying that to cover up murders. Listen to what Anderson has to say: ‘if the world knew what the leader has to tell and to give, and how profoundly his love goes out to the whole of humanity beyond his own nation, then at this hour it would bid farewell to its false gods and render him homage.’”
“Next time Mr Pereira gives you a newspaper to give to your father,” said Annabel to Olivia. “Throw it in the rubbish.”
*
The doctor came to see Mr Pereira and after the visit, shared with Jim the reason for his visit.
“He’s had tonsillitis,” the doctor confided. “But because of the lack of antibiotics, he got an abscess. I just lanced it. Between you and me, it doesn’t look good.”
“Is it contagious? Are we in danger?” asked Jim.
“Flu and tonsil abscesses are widespread at the moment. It wouldn’t be a problem if we had any antibiotics. There are epidemics all over, poor diets, shortage of doctors, hospital beds and medicine. How is your angina?”
“It seems to be going away.”
Later, they heard Mrs Pereira in floods of tears; she told Annabel and Jim that she had called the doctor back to see her husband and that he had just pronounced her husband dead..
His own lack of emotion at the death surprised Jim. His dominant thoughts were happiness that it had not been his own death mixed with a foreboding of when his own turn would arrive.
The Fernando’s set their feuding aside and were friendly to Mrs Pereira.
“Who knows what it has spared your husband from,” said Mrs Fernando. “And what is in store for...?”
“At least he died with me,” said Mrs Pereira.
*
This time it was the turn of Mr Fernando to receive a visit from the doctor. He had been ill for a while but the illness got worse. The doctor gave him an injection of something and a prescription of something else to Mrs Fernando with no guarantees that any of the chemists would stock it.
She asked Jim if he would stay with her husband while she went out to find the medicine.
Fernando was lying in his bed, very restless and wheezing.
“Would you like a drink?” asked Jim.
He looked very thin, his eyes were glassy, and it was an effort for him to speak.
“Yes,” he said, sitting up.
Jim supported his pillow and then his head, which was soaked in sweat, and gave him some water.
“Where is my wife?”
“She’ll be back soon.”
“Thank you.”
When Mrs Fernando returned, Jim went back to the room and washed himself and his clothes, worrying Fernando’s infection might be contagious, and went to bed.
Mrs Fernando woke them in the middle of the night, and Jim went downstairs to see her husband. He was lying on his back with his eyes open, but Jim could not hear any breathing or feel a pulse. He was fairly sure Fernando was dead, but he couldn’t be certain, so they sent for the doctor.
When the doctor arrived, he confided in Jim, and Jim alone, that he thought there might be something contagious going around the town. Jim kept this news to himself and Annabel, and disinfected his shoes and clothes on his return to the house on the occasions he had to go out somewhere. They still had some masks left over from the last pandemic and some of them were still usable, so they made use of them on their visits outside as a precaution.
Part Five – On the Road
“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”–George Santayana, The Life of Reason, 1905.
Chapter Thirty-Two – 7 years 8 months before the collapse
Annabel arrived home in a dark mood. She had fetched Olivia from the institute.
“They will only renew the monthly ration card after six weeks,” she announced. “There were military on the streets but at least with the end seemingly in sight, people seem to be friendlier towards those of us with foreign heritage.”
“They might try to kill all the foreigners before the regime collapses altogether,” said Jim. “Even if they don’t murder us, we are likely to die of starvation; we’ve only a bit of bread and potato left.”
Jim looked out of the window and could see the military.
“There is a curfew,” said Annabel. “They think there is going to be a riot. People have been stocking up on food.”
“Well, we can hardly do that with no credit on our ration card.”
Jim made tea. It was about the only thing they had left in the house. They were both exhausted and depressed because, although the end seemed near, there was good reason to suspect that they would be done away with before the regime fell.
The lights went out and there was an explosion nearby. Olivia cried, and they huddled down between the chairs under the table.
There was another explosion, and a window broke inwards. Outside there was a great fire which lit up the street as bright as day. Another explosion followed.
Jim looked out of the window. There was broken glass everywhere and a strong wind was blowing. They went back inside and ate the remaining bread. There was glass everywhere.
Mrs Pereira knocked on the door.
“The street’s on fire, we have to go.”
Jim grabbed a bag with his manuscripts and Annabel’s jewellery. He considered rescuing his plant, but then thought better of it. They went out onto the street, which was as bright as daylight from the flames they could see consuming the buildings at the other end of the street. There was no sign of the fire brigade.
Annabel was leading them down the street, Jim was holding onto Olivia. There was another explosion. Jim dragged Olivia down and pressed himself, with her, against a wall. When he looked up again, Annabel was gone. They ran back across the road to the house. The door was wide open.
“Annabel! Annabel!” Jim shouted. There was no reply.
There were two more explosions in the street, closer this time. Then an explosion from the building next door. Something hard and glowing hot struck the right side of Jim’s face. He touched his face and felt blood. Olivia was crying, but otherwise okay.
He led her down the street, she fell, and he lifted her up again. They rushed towards an open space. The explosions continued. Everything seemed to be ablaze. Jim tried to head towards the sports ground, but he felt disorientated.
When he got there, there were people climbing the fence, but the wind was showering them with sparks, so he decided it was best to skirt the park instead. The wind was fanning the flames, and the fire was spreading quickly from house to house. Sparks were landing in trees and bushes, which were also catching fire.
Jim tried to shield Olivia as best he could. It started to rain.
“Where’s Mummy?” asked Olivia.
“I don’t know,” Jim admitted. “Don’t worry, we’ll find her.”
They continued to walk. Every time he turned around, the fire seemed to follow them. Soon they reached the main road. There were crowds trying to get away from what they were describing as the riot.
Jim felt the blood from his wound encrusting around his eye. To the right, the city was burning, but they continued to follow the crowds. Olivia was getting tired, but they kept going. Eventually, they arrived at the river from where they could see the city ablaze.
“Jim! Olivia!” someone shouted.
Jim turned and saw Annabel.
“Mummy!” Olivia ran up to and hugged her mother.
“What happened?” asked Jim.
“I lost you after that explosion.”
“I guess we lost each other.”
“What happened to you?” she asked, seeing his face.
“A bit of shrapnel when the building next door exploded, I think it’s okay though.”
*
They removed their foreigners’ armbands. Many people had congregated by the river while the city still burned.
“I saw some bodies,” Annabel whispered to Jim when she thought Olivia wasn’t listening.
They continued through the city to an area where the fires were already dying down, there were frames of destroyed vehicles.
A building collapsed only a few yards in front and threw up an incredible amount of dust, and they turned and returned the way they had come.
They found an ambulance that had a large crowd gathered around it.
“Jim!” came another voice. It was David from the factory.
Jim thought nothing could kill this man, not cancer, nor great infernos.
“How are you?” Jim asked.
“I’m fine,” said David. “The smoke badly affected my eyes but there’s a paramedic by that ambulance there giving out eye drops. Go and see him, you look like you’ve got a nasty wound.”
“Thanks, we will. Stay safe, David.”
They waited in line for the paramedic, and eventually it was Jim’s turn. He removed some dirt from the eye with the edge of a tissue, then put drops in both eyes. They stung badly, but afterwards Jim felt relieved.
As they were walking away from the ambulance, there was another explosion. Everyone threw themselves to the ground. Jim put his arm over Olivia. There were a few more distant explosions, and then silence.
Jim looked around. He had lost Annabel again. He found David.
“Have you seen my wife?”
“No, hang about for a moment, she’ll show up.”
“I see you’ve got rid of your armband too.”
“It won’t matter after this, everything will be over soon, anyway.”
The street by the river was very crowded and there were people sat on the ground, leaning on walls. Olivia was crying.
“It’s okay, we’ll find her,” said Jim.
“I know,” she sobbed. “I was thinking of the kittens.”
Jim had forgotten all about the Pereira cats.
They could hear ambulances and other emergency vehicles rushing backwards and forwards. Jim realised they were at the end of Deansgate, near the station. Some people huddled under blankets they had grabbed as they fled.
Jim found Annabel and then tried to find a spot where they could rest. There was still space under the arches of the bridge. Jim couldn’t sleep, despite feeling exhausted, and he was very hungry. There were rumours that Unity welfare was going to bring food, but it never materialised. A passing woman broke off a piece of her sandwich and handed it to them.
The power in this part of the city then went out, but after a brief interval, it came back on again. No sooner had illumination returned than David arrived.
“Hello again,” he greeted them. “There are buses to take people out of the city. The one up there is full, but they said there would be others along at regular intervals.”
They went and waited under the railway bridge where they waited a long time, until dawn broke, but then, sure enough, a double-decker bus arrived and they got on.
The bus drove past burned-out ruins and fires still burning and took them to the airport where three of the hotels had been commissioned to give shelter and food.
They gave them noodle soup and Jim managed three bowls with tiny pieces of toast, which he crumbled in it. Then they found David, who was still doing remarkably well.
It transpired that it was noodle soup for every meal. But Jim, Annabel and Olivia did not tire of it as quickly as some of the other homeless apparently did.
A doctor, doing the rounds, stopped at Jim and looked at his eye.
“See a specialist,” the doctor explained. “There might be a tear in the retina, get it looked at when you get the opportunity.”
Jim could not imagine when he might see an eye specialist, but it was feeling a lot better.
*
While they were eating a breakfast of noodle soup, they were told that they would give those who had lost homes alternative accommodation in the city.
“We shouldn’t go back,” said Jim. “What happens when they discover we have foreign heritage?”
“I agree,” said Annabel. “Now it could be our chance to get away.”
Ominous clouds hung in the chill morning air and obscured the rising sun, as they walked away from the hotel and Jim thought about everything they had lost, his plant, books, Olivia’s toys, the piano.
They had to cross the devastated city and avoided the temptation to see what had happened to their accommodation, instead they carried on and didn’t have a proper rest until they were in Salford where a small shop gave them something to eat without asking for their ration card.
There were a surprising number of people walking along the road, and Jim saw no sign of public transport. He assumed the damage in Manchester had been too great.
By sunset they had arrived at a village called Greenmount. There was a pub in the village and the landlord, taking pity on their dishevelled appearance, gave them hot drinks and sandwiches and refused their card.
