by Terry Tyler
"Forty-eight is hardly middle-aged, madam, and yes, but I ask too many questions."
"I know, but—"
He put his arms around my waist. "Listen, sweetheart. I am a prominent member of an organisation that aims to expose the lies, corruption and atrocities of those in power. Which is, I would imagine, more of a consideration than how many people I help to pass their 'A' Levels."
He went out a lot over the next few days, and came back with shopping bags that he took into the garden shed. When he was asleep, I took a look.
He'd bought backpacks for the three of us, in which he'd stowed first aid kits, basic toiletries, knives, tin openers, rubber tubing, tape, rope, waterproofs, a fork and spoon, firelighters, maps, packs of protein bars and bottled water. Thick socks, packs of clean underwear. Other stuff, according to our individual needs. He'd even remembered Tampax. I knew what it was; Dex was amassing survival gear. But survival from what? First aid kits and rubber tubing (rubber tubing??) wouldn't protect against Bat Fever, would it?
At about eight on the next Wednesday evening, we were watching a film in bed when his phone rang.
He took one look at the caller ID, and muted the telly.
"Hi. Yes. No, that's okay. Oh good, excellent. Great. Sure. See you in an hour."
See who in an hour?
He got out of bed and pulled on his jogging bottoms and a t-shirt.
"I won't be any longer than I have to be." He didn't look at me.
"Where are you going?" I called after him as he walked out of the room. When he didn't answer, I leapt out of bed and ran to the top of the stairs. "Dex, don't ignore me!"
He took his keys off the hall table and looked up; he was smiling. "Don't worry. I shan't be long. It's all good."
I watched the rest of the film, and started another one. He was gone for ages.
Hours.
I was dozing with the TV still on when he returned, switching on the overhead light and waking me up.
"Hey—ow, turn that off!" I put my arm over my eyes. "What time is it?"
"Late." He left the light on, and sat down on the bed next to me. "Sorry to wake you, but you'll be glad. I've got something for you."
I glanced at the clock; it was after one. I decided not to ask him where he'd been all this time; if it was to do with Unicorn, which it almost certainly was, he wouldn't tell me, anyway.
I pulled myself up into a sitting position, and leant back against the pillows. He was holding a cardboard box.
I smiled and yawned. "Whassat? Pressie?"
He leant over to kiss me. He looked tired. "Probably the best present I can ever and will ever give you."
I opened the lid. Inside were several small vials of clear liquid and a packet of syringes.
"It's the vaccination," he said, smiling all over his face.
I picked up one of the syringes. "What? I don't understand."
"This is the vaccination that will protect you from Bat Shit. I've even got the green wristbands, so Lottie can hold her head up on MyLife."
I laughed. "Oh, well done! Where did you get them? But you said we shouldn't go—"
He reached out and touched my face, softly. "I said you shouldn't get yourself injected by a total stranger. Because you don't know what they're giving you. This is the real thing. For definite. Gia got hold of them."
I bristled. "You've been out to see Gia?"
"No." He kissed me again. "They come via Gia, from the person I went to meet, commonly known as Veritas Loquitur, from Unicorn. Well, it's Naomi, actually. She lives in Grantham; I met her in King's Lynn. You trust me, don't you?"
I frowned. "Yes—"
"I don't mean about not meeting Gia! I mean about giving you the vaccine."
I looked into his eyes. "Of course I do." I loved the way his eyes crinkled up when he smiled. And those lines around his mouth. Still made me weak, after six years.
"Absolutely, one hundred per cent? You don't think I might be secretly injecting you with arsenic?"
"No. You're the cynic, not me."
He laughed. "There are several, this was all I could get. They're for you, me and Lottie, your mum and dad, and a couple spare. I'm dropping some off for Guy and his lot tomorrow." Guy was his brother, who lived near Hunstanton.
"I'll ring Mum in the morning."
"Good." He picked out two of the syringes. "Now—medication time."
In the morning Dex and Lottie both slept late; I was in the kitchen yawning and making coffee, enjoying the silence, when my phone rang.
"Darling?" It was Mum; I tensed up immediately. She never rang me before nine. She sounded as though she was outside, or somewhere with bad reception.
"Mum? What's the matter?"
I heard her say something to Dad that made him laugh, and my whole body relaxed.
"Nothing's the matter! We're on our way to the airport, that's all; we're going out to Portugal to stay with Rob and Sarah." Crackle, crackle, went the phone.
"Why? That's a bit sudden, isn't it? Why didn't you tell me?"
"That's what I'm doing, now. It wasn't definite until yesterday afternoon, and I knew if I told you before we left, Dex would have some dire warning about that wretched bat flu, or whatever the hell it's called, and then he'd put the fear of God into you, and you'd stop us going. We'll be gone for a few weeks, and I'll give you a ring as soon as we get there, okay?"
"Okay." Oh dear, oh dear; but there was nothing I could do. "You haven't had your jab yet, have you?"
"What, for the bat lurgy? No, no, haven't even got an appointment yet. Don't worry about that, we'll see to it when we get back; we're off to the Algarve, darling, not the Sudan! Look, I've got to go, we're nearly at the airport and you know it annoys your father when I yap on the phone while he's driving. I'll give you a ring as soon as we're safely at Sarah's, okay?" And she was gone.
The kettle boiled, and outside, the sun went in.
I switched on the telly, and talk about Bat Fever was everywhere. There were outbreaks in other parts of Africa, the news said, and it was essential that everyone in the UK remain calm and patient so that health care professionals could administer vaccinations safely and efficiently. Already there had been disturbances outside hospitals and mobile units, with groups claiming that certain sections of the population were receiving preferential treatment.
Some of these disturbances had necessitated the introduction of police in riot gear.
"Blimey," I said, out loud. This was getting seriously scary.
"Every effort is being made to step up the programme, with more appointment times," newscasters informed us, on all channels. "But please do not attend the units unless you have been given your appointment, as you will be turned away. Please also note that the vaccine is delivered to the units on a daily basis; they do not hold a stock."
In other words, don't break into them because there's nothing to nick.
All flights in and out of the whole of Africa had been suspended.
Leaving the news channel on as background, I opened my laptop and brought up a map of the world.
Portugal was frighteningly near the Dark Continent.
Tears started pouring down my cheeks. I felt a degree of panic that I hadn't experienced since I lost Lottie on a busy street in Norwich twelve years before. Hands shaking, I tapped onto Mum's mobile number, but it was switched off.
Outside, the sky grew heavy. I breathed deeply, made coffee, turned off all screens, and just sat. When I heard getting-up noises from upstairs, I perked up; Dex would think of something. Halfway up the stairs, though, I heard him in the bedroom, talking on the phone. In a low voice. Giving short, clipped answers. Not just chatting.
Yes. Good, good. Could be it, then. Sure.
I stopped, and sat on the stairs. He said goodbye to whoever it was he was talking to, and I'd just got up when his phone rang again.
I moved towards the door, but I didn't go in. This time his voice sounded softer. Still wasn't saying much, though.
<
br /> Okay. Yes. Of course. We'll talk on the way. Yes. Bye bye.
He ended his conversation as I opened the bedroom door; his face was expressionless.
"I'm going to have to go back up to Jeff's. Tomorrow."
We'll talk on the way. So who was he travelling with? The problem with eavesdropping is that you can't challenge people about what you've heard, or you give yourself away. But that was the day I stopped being laid back about the Northumberland trips. This was real, this was happening, this disease was creeping round the world, and my mum and dad were zooming off to a country dangerously near the hotspot.
"Again? Dex, you can't keep buggering off up there every five minutes. You keep leaving me alone, and all this horrible shit's going on—what's your priority here, Unicorn, or us?"
I hated how whiny I sounded. We'd never done possessive, though I sometimes felt it was me who made all the compromises.
Just to show how mature I was, I started crying. I couldn't stop. "It's not fair, I need you here, I—"
He took me in his arms, holding me tightly, and stupid me, I tried to push him away; why, I don't know, when I so badly needed him to hold me.
"I care about Unicorn because I care about you. Us. Everyone, but especially us."
"Well, stay here, then!"
"Darling, if it wasn't for Unicorn we wouldn't be safe at all. The vaccine, I mean."
"Mum and Dad aren't safe." I gave in, and sobbed into his chest, blubbing out about Mum and Dad flying off to Portugal. "And Portugal's practically next to Africa!"
He held me away from him. "Vicky, please listen to me. I'm going to tell you this so you won't worry about your parents. Sweetheart, the disease isn't real. I mean, it is, but it's not in Africa. They're creating a panic so that everyone will queue up for the vaccine, that's all."
That did it. I really did push him away this time. "Oh, don't be so bloody ridiculous! They couldn't come out with a lie like that on the national news! My parents are flying right into an area where a deadly disease is out of control, and you're coming out with all this crazy rubbish!"
I could tell he knew better than to protest, this time.
"Okay. I'm sorry. Well, look, we'll just have to hope it doesn't spread to Portugal, if you can't persuade them to come back," he said, and pulled me down on to the bed, holding me tight. "I'm really, really sorry, but I can't not go. I think Gia's got the info we've been waiting for, and it's very, very sensitive, we're going to have to decide what steps to take next; the internet's no good, I think it'll mean working round the clock getting leaflets printed, planning distribution to the vaccination queues up and down the country, and—"
"Leaflets about what?"
He took a deep breath. "Telling people to insist on more information before they accept the vaccine."
"Why? What's in it? Look at all the people who've had it already; they haven't died, have they? And what makes you think the vaccination queues are going to believe a load of loopy conspiracy theorists over the NHS?"
Oh dear, I'd said it.
That he didn't reproach me told me he felt guilty about going.
He shut his eyes for a moment. "Vicky, sweetheart, I promise as soon as I get back I'll explain everything, and—"
"Well, why do you always have to go all the way up there? Why does it have to be Jeff's house? Why can't you meet here?" I folded my arms. "It'd be nearer for Gia, too." Ouch, the edge to my voice as I said her name. I regretted that, instantly.
Again, he let it go.
"We know Jeff's house is safe. I mean, it's been swept for bugs."
I jerked myself up. "Bugs? You're kidding!"
"I'm not. And Jeff won't go anywhere else; he wants to be close to his bunker, wherever that is."
"You really don't know?"
"No." He smiled at me. "Maybe he doesn't want us all descending on him, expecting to be kept safe and fed, when the zombies take over the earth!"
I frowned. "That's a bit selfish, isn't it?"
"Oh, I don't know, I can see his point. He's gone to a lot of trouble and expense, so it's up to him who he takes in, isn't it? If the world ever does go to shit, it'll be every man for himself."
I looked up at him. "No, it won't. We'd still help people if they were in trouble, wouldn't we? Whatever happened."
"Maybe. No one knows how they'll react until a situation presents itself. Perhaps he would help, if the chips were down."
I reached for his hand, and he enveloped me in his big, strong arms once more. It felt so, so good.
The way he was holding me, so tightly—I couldn't believe he was happy about being parted.
We'll talk about it on the way. "Are you giving Gia a lift?"
"No. I've got to pick Naomi up from Grantham, though."
I looked up at him. "What's she like?"
He grinned, and flipped me on the nose. "Terribly earnest. Card-carrying vegan with a sense of humour bypass."
"Oh dear, poor you." I grinned back. "I love you."
"I love you too," he said back, and we kissed. "I'm sorry I have to go. I really am. I don't want to, but I have to."
His words gave me confidence.
"Okay, then," I said. He was smiling at me; I kissed him again. "Plan B."
He kissed me back. "I didn't know there was a Plan B."
"There is now. We'll come with you. Lottie and me."
I peeled myself off him, slid off the bed and dragged out my pull-along suitcase from where it lived between the wardrobe and my dressing table.
I could feel his silence behind me; I kept talking. That way I could tell myself that the reason he hadn't expressed deep joy about Plan B was that he couldn't get a word in edgeways. "We can provide a bit of light relief, and I promise I won't let Lottie take the piss out of Mrs Tofu! I don't know why I didn't think of this before, instead of moaning at you." I stopped rooting around in my underwear drawer and turned round, smiling. "It'll be good, won't it?"
He just looked at me.
"I said, it'll be good, won't it? Lottie and me coming with you?"
His eyes said it all.
"Dex?"
"You can't come. I'm sorry."
My heart thudded. I'd been so sure he'd say yes. Ah—no, I hadn't. I just didn't think he'd have the heart to say no.
Last time I'd felt like this (abandoned, a bit of an idiot) was when Ryan told me he wasn't going to give up his university place to stay with us. The shock floored me. It came only a week after I found out I was pregnant, and I'd thought it all out, made a list of companies he could approach for work, asked Dad for a deposit for a flat, but I'd hardly begun to outline these plans when he dropped the bombshell. His parents were behind him; what could I do?
Taught me a lesson, anyway: you can't plan other people's lives.
"I'm sorry," he said, again. "Look, we'll have the rest of today together. But I'm going to have a lot on my mind when I'm there; it won't be a holiday. And I think it's important that Lottie's life stays as stable as possible, don't you?"
"How will us coming to Northumberland make Lottie's life not stable? And the leaflet thing—well, I can help." I felt desperate, frightened. "I'm sorry I called you a loopy conspiracy theorist. I'm just so worried about Mum and Dad, and everything seems so uncertain—I need you with me—"
I'd said it again.
That need word.
I'd never felt insecure in our relationship; when we first got together, Dex said that one of the things he loved and respected about me was that I was strong and self-reliant. I didn't feel strong and self-reliant, but I suppose I'd got used to handling parenthood alone. And now here I was, displaying the sort of clinginess that would send anyone running for the hills.
Dex stood up and walked over to the window. "What we're planning is going to cause trouble, enough to get me arrested, and the same could happen to you, if you get involved. You're a parent, Vicky; you've got to be around for Lottie, you don't have a choice. It's one of the reasons I've kept you away from all t
his, to be honest."
"Shouldn't that be my decision?" I knew he was right, though, damn him.
"She won't want to go, anyway. Jeff's is miles from anywhere. I don't even know if there'll be anywhere for you to sleep."
"I can sleep with you, can't I?"
"I'm on the settee."
"Well, we can sleep on the floor, in the car—"
"No." He turned round. "Not yet, anyway. Look, one of the things we're doing is establishing a safe house."
"A safe house? What on earth for?"
"Somewhere anonymous and secure, where Gia can hide, if necessary."
I folded my arms. "Oh, yeah. Got to look after Gia, right?"
He didn't react to that. "Immediately, yes; she's putting herself in a dangerous position. You don't realise how serious this is—and yes, yes, that's my fault. Maybe I should have included you, I don't know. But we'll be going up against some powerful people, so we might need a hideaway, too. And it'll be somewhere for all of us in the case of a countrywide crisis. Maybe not as safe as Jeff's bunker, but—"
"A countrywide crisis?" This all sounded crazy. "You mean the spread of the virus?" I put my head on one side. "You were kidding about the zombies, right?"
He grinned. "Er, yes."
My hysteria had subsided, and I didn't feel like blubbing any more.
"Come here," he said, and I went into his arms. "I hate all this, I wish it wasn't happening, and I'll give you the full picture as soon as I know what it is, when I come back, which will be on Wednesday at the absolute latest. And, between then and now, I promise I won't do anything likely to get me thrown into a gaol cell. Okay?"
I looked up at him. "Do you promise?"
"I promise. Absolutely and one hundred per cent. And after this we won't be apart any more. I promise."
And with that, I had to be content. Five days. Six at the most.
Five or six days could be a very long time, though.