Fall of the Cities: Putting Down Roots

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Fall of the Cities: Putting Down Roots Page 27

by Vance Huxley

“So that’s why you want us out here to practice in the dark? Not as an excuse to get me away from your sister and the girl club?”

  “It’s a plan, though it was you insisted on coming out here to practice tonight, in spite of the rain. Now come on or your coat will never dry out by tomorrow.”

  Holly laughed. “You’re right, I just wanted to get you out here in the dark.” She hugged. “Well not really just that, and anyway it’s raining so there’s no point.” Holly picked up her empty brass and then arranged the string of little lights hung around her neck. “Fairy time.”

  “Casper loves this part.” Harold wore lights as well. After a flesh wound when a scavenging party coming home at dusk met a nervous guard, everyone wore lights when outside Orchard Close. Anyone returning after dusk lit up their little string of battery powered glows before coming clear of the ruins. Harold knew they’d still be challenged, in fact they’d better be or he’d be giving lectures again.

  “Come on in, fairies.” Matthew greeted them with a big smile. “I think you’re the last tonight.” Harold paused and helped Matthew to put the iron bars across the door to stop the ungodly opening it from the outside. Matthew’s shoulder had healed but still hadn’t fully recovered.

  As Holly came out through the front door of number six, the main guard house, she paused. “Someone’s showing a light in the dance house.”

  “Why, the Easter Dance is still four days away?”

  “Maybe they were getting the place ready?” Holly set off that way. “We’d best turn it off in case some oik takes a potshot.” That had happened four times since Christmas so Harold followed.

  Though as he opened the door warm air struck his skin. “It’s warm in here, warmer than it should be?” Harold frowned and then his face cleared. “Is someone using the place?” Couples were occasionally finding somewhere to be private, because nobody lived alone.

  Holly headed up the stairs. “If so I’ll tell them about the light. They won’t want a bullet through the window.” Harold waited until Holly came back down, shaking her head. “Just a table lamp and the curtains not quite closed. Maybe someone had plans or perhaps they’ve already gone home.” She looked around the dance room and smiled. “Since its warm you can have the last dance with me and walk me home.”

  “I’m walking you home anyway, idiot.”

  Holly pouted. “I prefer luv.”

  “I’m walking you home anyway, idiot luv.”

  “Yes, but walking home after a last dance is different. Maybe level six different if you dance properly. At least another practice five.” Holly walked over to the CD player and looked through the selection and then in the player. “This one is definitely mood music for last dances. Some of the old stuff we’ve been finding is really smoochy.”

  Harold hung up his coat where it could drip a bit because Holly had already taken hers off. “I just want to take your time.” Holly sang softly. “I’ll bet an old bloke like you can remember this.”

  “Cheeky, I’m only three or four years older than you, depending on the time of year.”

  “So you are. In that case.” A good while later Holly sighed. “We’re supposed to undo buttons on a five, but if we do that without coats it’ll be a six.”

  “A fifty six if you kiss me like that with any more buttons undone.”

  “OK, we’ll stick to five and a half, but a lot of them.” Four dances later Holly put her hand behind her and moved Harold’s hand down a bit further. “Your hand keeps straying that way and is making me curious, so it’s time for level six.” Two dances later Holly pulled her head back and actually looked embarrassed. “I’ve got a confession, Harold, and this song has reminded me I have to do that first.”

  The current song was ‘Love you a little bit more’ by Dr. Hook which sounded intriguing at least. “What is it? You’ve forgotten what number we’re up to?” Harold had, he thought he’d gone to level seven a couple of times.

  “Mmm, about the numbers.” Holly sighed. “They only go up to four. After that Liz said I was on my own.”

  “That was my fault.”

  “No, because the numbers were my idea to sort of slow me up, not you. I was frightened of getting carried away too soon.” Holly giggled. “Four surprised me, because that really turned out different with wet lips, really different. I worried about level five.”

  “You can stop whenever you like.” Harold knew there had to be a punch line of some sort coming. Hopefully an eight when he walked Holly home after dancing like this. Though dancing in private and all the five plusses meant he already didn’t want to walk Holly home, or not to the girl club anyway.

  “I didn’t worry about you, well maybe in a way. I worried about knicker inspections. The five made me curious instead of frightened.” Harold opened his mouth and Holly stopped him speaking in the nicest way. By the time she’d freed his mouth again Harold thought that might have been an eight, which made him wonder about level nine. “I put the heaters on in here before we left, to find something out.” Holly giggled, then sobered. “Harold?”

  Harold looked into a pair of very serious grey-blue eyes. “Yes Holly?”

  Her eyes twinkled in humour and Holly giggled. “The answer is yes. The bed upstairs is warm, Harold. I really am curious about knicker inspections, and Mummy Casper isn’t waiting.”

  “You told him?”

  “No, Casper hasn’t waited since level four. Nobody knows, which is what I want, just in case this doesn’t work out.” Holly kissed him, and Harold gave up on levels since he wasn’t trying to hold back any more anyway.

  Though his conscience insisted on one last try. “Are you sure, Holly?”

  “I put the blanket on upstairs just in case, and after whatever level that is I really am sure.” She paused and her smile died a little. “That is, if you’re sure?”

  Harold admitted what had finally become obvious even to him. “I’ve been hooked since four, possibly two?”

  *   *   *

  “Mmm, you are warm. Everyone wondered.” Holly sighed. “Though I’ve found out one bit the films skip over. I’m bursting for the loo and it’ll be freezing in there.”

  “I’ll turn the heater on if you can wait?”

  “Is that a real gentleman thing? Go on then, I won’t even peek.” Harold got out and put on his shirt because chilly didn’t quite cover this morning. “Maybe.” But Holly’s voice still sounded muffled since she’d pulled the covers over her head.

  Harold hurried back because his shirt wasn’t warm enough. “Coming in, ready or not.” Harold waited a few moment and opened the door, and Holly had hidden her head under the covers. “I’ll turn on the blower in here as well.” Harold got into bed and Holly squealed.

  “You’re freezing.”

  “You will be in a minute. Use my shirt, it’s still warm.”

  “No peeking?”

  “I promise.” Harold wouldn’t look because that wasn’t a tease. Holly had insisted on lights out last night so he didn’t see her in underwear. Harold hadn’t realised just how shy she was, not after Holly had worn that tutu for dancing. A shy girl was a first, and so was a blonde. Holly giggled when Harold confessed she was his first blonde girlfriend, because he was her first anything. After that Harold had worried about Holly waking up tearful, but apparently his first blonde no regrets.

  “Coming in, ready or not.” Harold turned his head away and shut his eyes, and heard the door open. Moments later she slipped into bed. “Brr. Cold. Ooh, you’ve warmed up. Come on, share. My birthday present.”

  “Today?”

  “Yes. That’s why the girl club were all smirking and sneaking around. They’d got something planned for the dance, something for us.” Holly sniggered. “Liz threatened to tie me to the bed in a nightie and set fire to the house so you had to carry me down a ladder, but I don’t know the real plan. Speaking of fire and warmth, what about my present?” They shared until either Harold had cooled a bit or Holly had warmed up, since they we
re about the same.

  “The bathroom will be warm enough for a shower now. We’d better get up soon or you’ll be late for breakfast and the girl club will know.” Harold smiled. “My sister will be waiting with her eyes agleam.”

  “Maybe I don’t mind the girl club knowing? Do you mind Sharyn knowing?”

  Harold laughed. “No, I don’t mind who knows because after all, you’re my girlfriend. Providing you can stand the teasing?”

  “I was all tense and it was all sort of new and a bit sort of confused last night. I’m not sure if that was worth a lot of teasing.” Holly paused. “I’m not tense now and a warm up wasn’t much of a present? I should get a birthday kiss at least.”

  “We could try a level four birthday kiss? See how it goes?” Four without clothes turned into about eighty-four.

  *   *   *

  “Hi Sis. Am I too late for breakfast?”

  “Nearly too late for lunch. Did it take that long to dry the poor girl’s tears?” Sharyn had her hands on her hips and Harold could see exactly where Daisy got it from.

  “No, because I’m not crying. Good morning Sharyn.” Holly only blushed a little bit. “I was told there might be late breakfast here.”

  Harold savoured the moment as Sharyn went from berating him for abusing Holly to dealing with a smiling Holly here for breakfast. Eventually Sharyn got her head realigned. “I hope you’re not going to start kissing and all that. There’s children present and I’ve just eaten.”

  “I don’t mind if Holly kisses Harold. I think it’s sweet, and romantic. Hi Holly.”

  “Hi Hazel. Hi Daisy.”

  “Holly! Can you draw a ship, a pirate ship?” Harold left Holly to the tender mercies of Daisy and the drawing book, and followed Sharyn into the kitchen.

  “Is Holly moving in?”

  “Er, we haven’t talked about that.” She’d done it again. Sharyn had completed flummoxed him. Harold’s head went around in circles. “What about undies in the bathroom and all the rest? Snogging after you’ve eaten and sitting on the settee?” That all sounded like a bloody good idea even as he said it.

  “As long as you remember the kids live here, I’m OK with all that. There won’t be underwear in the bathroom anyway since I suppose she’ll use your en-suite shower room?” Sharyn laughed. “Cripes, you’ve blushed. You march in here the morning after, bold as brass with Holly in tow, and then blush about her underwear in the bathroom.”

  “She’s shy.” Harold kept his voice down. “I hadn’t connected the dots, all right?” Harold paused. “You really don’t mind?”

  Sharyn hugged him. “No little brother. It’s about time she reeled you in and the alternative is you moving out. You could move out if you wanted?”

  Harold considered that but only until he registered Sharyn’s voice on the last bit. “You’d rather we stayed? If Holly agrees to a ‘we’?”

  “Liz likes an alien killing machine parked at the end of the road. I like my little brother parked in the spare room, because life is unpredictable these days and Freddy isn’t going to be here if I need him.” This sister hug was for sister, not brother. “The toast is ready. You can cart it all through since she’s your guest.”

  “Uncle Harold, Uncle Harold. Holly draws a fantabulous piggy, but piggy’s ship has crashed and is sinking. He needs rescue.” Daisy held out the pencil. Daisy’s ships tended to crash or catch fire.

  “Are you going to draw a helicopter or a lifeboat?” Holly looked at the selection on the table and curled her lip. “Margarine? I didn’t think anyone actually ate it.”

  “We buy it for cooking and put jam or honey on toast but I didn’t know if you used the stuff.” Harold swept a hand across the jars. “Blackberry, marmalade or plum jam. We’ll have to make a ton of jam next year because all the scavenged stuff will be gone. The honey is nearly solid.”

  “That’s OK, I don’t mind solid. Someone found strawberry jam last week but it only lasted a day over there. I suppose strawberry jam and honey are extinct now, and unless we find enough jars all jam might be.” Holly took a plate and toast. “I’ll get started and you send a helicopter for piggy.”

  “No helicopter, or lifeboat. Daisy explained that in cat and dog pirate land where the ships have sails there are no engines. That only an idiot would expect a helicopter to come and rescue a pirate cat.” Hazel grinned. “The idiot found a solution.”

  Holly looked around and everyone else looked at Harold and smiled expectantly, so he shrugged and confessed. “The Red Cross Elephant.”

  “Hurray, the Red Cross Elephant is here.” Daisy tugged at Harold’s arm so he carried on drawing.

  Hazel sniggered. “A cartoon elephant with huge ears so he can fly and rescue cats and dogs and piggies. The Red Crosses are on his ears.” Harold let the laughter wash over him. Daisy liked the elephant idea and Holly was laughing and having breakfast with him and he felt incredibly mellow.

  Holly finally went home mid-afternoon, after seven different people had called by for one reason or another. She greeted each one, blushed to varying degrees, and sniggered after they’d gone because Daisy stopped most of the intended comments. Though Holly blushed again as she left, because of Daisy’s parting shot. “If you come for late breakfast tomorrow I’ll be at school.” Harold followed Holly out before the enquiring looks from Hazel and Sharyn turned into words, and they both went scavenging for a while.

  The five days to Easter were a bit of a blur. Numbers were abandoned for just kissing, and Harold wandered through a daze of teasing and congratulations. He took Holly home for breakfast twice and waited for the right moment because Harold really did like the idea of her underwear in his shower room, as it were. The rest of Orchard Close were happy, sympathetic or having a wonderful time mercilessly teasing both of them.

  *   *   *

  Easter Day turned into a long party for the younger kids. They made chains with blossom and willow catkins and thread, hunted pebbles painted as eggs, and had a party with jelly and raspberry ripple ice cream that Hilda had saved for a special occasion. “What’s that, Uncle-Harold?”

  “A Maypole, or our version. You hold the ribbon and dance around, but go in and out. In the end the ribbons are all plaited together.” Harold held out a ribbon, a ribbon knotted to a rope four feet up which led to a large knot in the middle of a thicker rope, strung from one chimney-stack to the one above the street.

  “Where’s the pole and why aren’t the ribbons longer and how can dancing twizzle them together?”

  “Imagine a pole, and we haven’t got any longer ribbons.” Harold looked round. “Casper? Dancing teacher needed.”

  Casper had a simple solution. The big idiot insisted that Alfie, Veronica and Hazel joined him to dance with the littler kids, and even Jilli and the three latest young refugees joined him eventually. Luckily a CD supplied the music rather than someone playing an instrument because most of the adults were breathless and almost hysterical with laughter by then, those not dragged in to join the dancing.

  The Easter dance that evening went on too long, because Harold only danced with Holly and Holly wasn’t embarrassed by public kissing any more. Various girl club members told Harold that he’d ruined Holly’s birthday surprise, but birthday girl seemed happy enough. The girl club provided a cake, and presents, and Holly blushed when she opened some and wouldn’t unwrap them. She wore a pair of clip-on earrings, green ones that Harold bought. Truly bought because all jewellery found by scavengers went into the Orchard Close emergency fund, so Harold had to pay with coupons.

  None of the women even came for a dance with Harold, though they had plenty of other entertainment. The new refugees had never been to an Orchard Close dance and the three women and five men old enough and up for dancing were fresh blood. Harold paused at the raised voices while collecting his and Holly’s coats, but those quickly quietened so he ignored them. Instead he helped Holly into her coat. “Mmm, walking a really kissable girl home, I wonder wh
at level we’ll get to this time?”

  “Home?” Holly glanced upstairs, because that’s where advanced kissing had already ended up two more times.

  “Maybe the level depends on which home I walk you to.” Harold whispered quietly in her ear. “Daisy is in bed, Sharyn claims she’s as deaf as a post, and Hazel is staying with Betty tonight.”

  “But in the morning?”

  “We might not be late for breakfast if you’re already home?”

  “Home?” That was barely a breath and Holly smiled happily before pulling Harold towards the street. “Will you walk me home please?”

  Sharyn never even batted an eyelid in the morning. Holly relaxed and stopped blushing, and by evening had moved in properly. Harold did blush when he brought her bags across, as did Holly. The girl club lined the path with garden canes and baseball bats held out to make a tunnel of sorts. They threw handfuls of tiny bits of chopped up plastic because confetti had become extinct as well, then swept them up for next time. Hazel found the whole idea romantic, and Daisy loved having an Aunty-Holly storyteller and piggy-drawing assistant.

  *   *   *

  The TV seemed hell-bent on destroying any temporary happiness. “Christ, crap, they’ll starve in there.”

  “Sit down Harold.” Holly pulled on his arm and Harold sat on the settee and for once Holly wrapped her arms around him instead. “You fixed them up in that library, and said the playing fields behind meant plenty of land for crops. If they’ve survived this long, your friends will be as safe as anyone in London.”

  “More to the point, brutal as it sounds, you’ve got people here who need keeping alive. Concentrate on making sure that if that happens here, if they stop feeding us, we’ll still eat.” Sharyn returned Harold’s stare. “How far do you trust the bastards if there’s a bad harvest?”

  Harold stayed awake talking quietly to Holly until the early hours, but then he slept without dreams. Holly had that effect, and Harold hadn’t slept this peacefully since the first time he pulled a trigger in anger. In the morning the news about London meant that nobody objected to more digging and clearing more land, then or in the following days. Curtis took full advantage, expanding his gardening plans.

 

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