Fall of the Cities: Planting the Orchard

by Vance Huxley

  “Do you mind if I nip up there, just to look? I’d like some idea of how bad it is.” Already Sharyn’s description was worse than the TV or sergeant rumour had suggested.

  “I’m fine, honest. Though I do feel better now you’ve arrived. Daisy likes you as well.” Harry was nudged. “You’ll be drawing ponies every day now. Or cats or pirates.” Sharyn glanced at the TV. “You can help to keep Daisy occupied. There’s two hours of kid’s stuff on that in the morning. All repeats but Daisy didn’t see most of them the first time round. No preschool now and those with kids at school aren’t happy because of the violence. Half the teachers have left.” Sharyn sighed. “I’ll give you the gory details later. You go and watch the fireworks. They’ll get louder nearer midnight.”

  “So I’ll look then. Until then we can watch boring TV or you can fill me in on city living.”

  “Oh boy, have you got a treat coming.” Sharyn smiled. “You can make the coffee since you’re dossing here. Cheap coffee because the good stuff is in short supply now.”

  * * *

  Harry stood on the roof of the flats and watched the flashes of gunfire here and there in the cityscape spread out on all sides. He was worried about the sheer volume of fire in some places, though those were a long way off. What worried Harry more was the line of tracers out of the night sky into the middle of one of the firefights. There was a helicopter gunship up there, firing on a British city! He assumed the same must have happened in London, but he’d been fast asleep or in the middle of a riot most of the nights. Harry smiled. Or locked in a broom cupboard.

  Maybe the answer was still to get out and try for that place in the country. He should be able to smuggle Sharyn and the kids past the guard posts, especially if the Army were only guarding the roads. Harry hoped he could, and that there’d be a motor he could steal out there nearby. After all, there were lots of places that the housing spilled over outside the ring road.

  Harry remembered London, but there the place was completely sealed and the housing outside the M25 had been evacuated. Here there were still passes, and no tanks. There was still some normal life. Harry watched a long line of lorries making their way out of the city. He could see each blocky shape in the light of the vehicle behind. Supermarket deliveries? That was reassuring, the normal nightlife of a city.

  Sharyn was dozing when Harry came down, so he chased her off to bed and settled down on the settee.

  * * *

  Harry jumped a mile when he opened his eyes. A pair of serious dark brown eyes were looking at him from only a few inches away. They jumped back with a squeak as Harry reared up, startled, and then there was a peal of laughter. Drawing and bedtime stories had dealt with shy, sort of, and Daisy had come to see if Uncle Harry wanted to draw. Harry groaned, wrapped the cover round himself, and staggered to the bathroom.

  “Good morning.” Harry groaned again as he came out of the bathroom to meet Sharyn’s smiling face. “You got a lie in. She’s usually up before eight.”

  “What!”

  “Cheer up Harry. I’ve already fed Wills. You still sleep soundly and missed it. I sent Daisy in to wake you up before she drove me crazy, because she’s been on the go for over half an hour. It’s gone eight thirty and she wants to play with her new toy. Uncle Harry. Welcome to married life, without the benefits.” Harry did his best to smile over his cornflakes. “Do you mind if we go shopping, Harry?”

  Harry tried to imagine Daisy helping him shop in a supermarket and pictured chaos. “All of us?”

  Sharyn laughed. “Not this time. I’ll leave them with Susan but I’ll owe her.”

  “Owe her? Is Susan a childminder then?”

  “No, she’s a neighbour without a job. Susan will be very happy with food as pay since the dole doesn’t always arrive either. Which is a bitch since she worked in the dole office before the redundancies. They got rid of everyone with short service so it cost the miserable gits peanuts, or will if they pay up.” Sharyn sighed. “There’s a lot of that about, redundancy and places shutting down.”

  “Do you want a ride in a stolen vehicle then?”

  “Shush.” Sharyn rolled her eyes towards Daisy. “Big ears and bigger mouth.” Daisy recognised the description and giggled. Then put both hands over her mouth. “How much petrol has your new ride got?”

  “Three quarters of a tank. It’s a diesel.”

  “Who cares what sort of fuel? Three quarters of a tank, where did you? Um. Never mind, but petrol and diesel are very hard to get. Don’t leave the thing parked up anywhere without a guard.”

  “Difficult while shopping.” Harry knew there was a shortage, but having fuel tanks drained if the vehicle was left unattended was a whole different scale of shortage.

  “So far so good in their car park, because there are people about. Daisy, you’re off to play with Susan while we go shopping. You be good.” They left Daisy chanting Coco Pops which was both her favourite cereal and not always available.

  “How do you survive? With Daisy and Wills as well.” Harry was smiling but also a bit stunned. Whole days of that sort of onslaught from Daisy was going to be wearing.

  Sharyn sniggered. “She’ll calm down a bit when the novelty wears off.”

  “I’ll have to go to the pub for some peace and quiet.”

  “Not after dark.” Sharyn looked at Harry and reassessed. “You might get away with it. You’ve filled out a bit, little brother.”

  “Bloody hell, are you serious about that, the pub?” Harry thought about the fireworks and Sharyn’s comments about lack of a police presence. “Maybe I’ll bring a few cans back.”

  “Maybe I’ll pinch one.”

  * * *

  The trip around the supermarket was a revelation because there were gaps on the shelves. “I’ve never seen that before.”

  “Probably because the Army don’t think it’s a good idea to upset the soldiers? The shortages are getting worse, and mainly named brands. Especially foreign food. I suppose the ships haven’t got the oil to sail all over the world and import the exotic stuff. Though coffee isn’t exotic, not really.” Sharyn was looking at the coffee on sale, and Harry could see there really only were the cheaper brands and mainly powder or granules.

  “I hope it’s not that.”

  “What, the imports stopping? Why, are you a fan of foreign food now?” Sharyn smiled at him. “Mr Bacon Egg and Chips Please used to be your unofficial name.”

  “It still is, but the UK can’t survive without imports. We don’t grow enough.” Harry thought again but he was sure that old TV programme had said so. “Blame late night TV but it does tell you odd facts. There’s too many people in the UK for us to feed, even if we plant up all the farmland that’s been left unused under the eco scheme.”

  Sharyn looked startled. “We’d have to go back to the old war films, with everyone planting up their gardens. Though we can’t plant spuds and carrots in a window box.”

  “Then we need a house with a garden.”

  Sharyn stopped the shopping trolley and gave Harry a long look. “Seriously? Did you just win the lottery?”

  “No but it’s just another step up from the pickup. All these people have left, so the houses are empty?” Harry laughed. “Your face is a picture.”

  “Grand theft auto to grand theft house is a big step. Anyway, the houses will be up for sale.”

  “To who? Look, it was a joke but now I think about it, why not?” Harry looked round. “Not the best place to talk, so wait until we’re home.” Harry picked up a cereal packet. “What’s a Coco Pop look like?”

  “They’re expensive now.”

  Harry smirked. “Uncles are supposed to be stupid and treat kids, aren’t they? Anyway, while she’s stuffing herself with Coco Pops I get a rest.”

  “Fat chance. Here, they’re not the right ones but as near as we’ll get. They turn the milk brown with chocolate which is apparently the main requirement.” Sharyn picked up a packet with a garish picture of a bowl of mud and a happ
y face. A bowl of chocolate according to the blurb.

  Harry put three packets in the trolley. “Right, what’s your favourite, apart from a big bar of chocolate?”

  “Small bar, the big ones are extinct. Hey, look, your favourites. How many cans do you want?”

  “Not many. I don’t fancy a hangover and Daisy combined.” Harry kept throwing extras in the trolley because that would pay his way. “You let me get this lot, right?”

  “All of it?” Sharyn was taking milk off the shelf and hesitated. “You really are flush?”

  “Yes, so cash in. Take extra of everything. I didn’t spend much pay in Kuwait even while it was still going into the bank on time. Even if they still owe me a lot of back pay I’m OK for a while.” Harry took an extra couple of big plastic bottles of milk. “Better cash in before I find a girl and spend it on her.”

  “You just did, I reckon. Her name’s Daisy.” Sharyn was looking at a plastic horse with a rider that had somehow appeared in the trolley. She looked almost shy for a moment. “Um, just how flush are you, Harry?”

  “I’m comfy for a while. Why?”

  “Because we can get some real fresh food, but only for cash. Black market except it’s not. It’s a real market but the veggies are fresher and they have fresh meat, even joints. The meat in here looks a bit tired and is usually only fit for stewing.” Sharyn smiled. “We could get free range eggs that way.” Then she looked embarrassed again. “I can’t afford to get much usually since the good food is expensive. Freddie’s payments just haven’t come through. His pay stopped but nothing else has started.”

  “Lead me to a cash machine. Bacon, eggs.”

  “And chips,” Sharyn finished.

  * * *

  Six eggs and two cans of lager paid for babysitting and the Daisy onslaught started with a delighted squeal at the sight of the horse. It was gone eight and Daisy was in bed before Harry had a chance to talk sensibly to Sharyn, and she’d been waiting as well.

  “Here.” Harry accepted the can Sharyn offered and popped the tab. “Now just how serious were you about us moving?”

  “Well I’d like to board up the windows and door first, and sort of weigh up the situation here. If things get even close to like where I was in London, we need a library or bank or something similar. An old solid place, with small windows and stone walls, and car parks each side.” Harry thought about the Cyn palace. “Maybe a playing field out back. If the schools are shut we can plant spuds.”

  Sharyn narrowed her eyes. “That came out much too pat. When did you work this out? It wasn’t with a chance remark in the supermarket.”

  “I told you about the girl in London, Cynthia? Well.” Harry explained about the Cyn palace.

  “Did you get it bad for this girl?”

  “Kinda. Yes, probably if there’d been time. It was all sort of riots and broom cupboard. I would have liked to take her for a pint, and to a dance, and then who knows? Then as I told you, I couldn’t get her out.”

  “Yes, I thought it might be that way. You’re acting all casual about Cynthia but you gave her a box full of guns. Most girls expect flowers but under the circumstances that sounds a much better idea. I’m beginning to wish Freddie had been one of those who brought back that sort of souvenir.” Sharyn glanced at Harry’s pack. “Did you?”

  “No, because we all had our gear searched before we left London. Luckily the sergeants sort of leaked the information up-front. Anyway, I gave them all the spare guns, the staff.” Harry knew he sounded defensive but Sharyn had a big smile and a raised eyebrow. “They weren’t a personal gift to Cynthia.”

  “Whatever you say, lover-boy. Seriously though, the gun maniac didn’t bring one itty bitty popgun home?” Sharyn sighed. “That might have been comforting if the fireworks came closer.”

  “I’m not a gun maniac. I just like shooting rifles. It’s sort of peaceful. All your attention has to go into the shot, and with the ear defenders on you’re in a little world away from all the rest. Though shooting is nothing like peaceful in the Army when someone shoots back.” Harry fell silent for a while.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not now, thanks sis, and maybe not ever.” Harry looked around. “Let’s talk about boarding up windows and cheerful things like that. While I was being catted and pirated and generally abused, did you mention boarding up to anyone?”

  “Susan likes the idea but has no money for boards. Rob is sort of for it, probably because of Susan. Finn isn’t sure that boarding up is necessary but if he thinks his Mum is in danger he’ll be out there with a hammer and nails in a nanosecond.” Sharyn smiled. “Finn won’t move unless we bring his Mum. She’s in a wheelchair and he’s sick with worry because the ambulance didn’t turn up for her last visit.”

  “Why!”

  “Steady on. Staff shortages, why?”

  Harry sighed in relief. “Sorry. We had to put armed guards on ambulances in London. Some were hijacked for the drugs.”

  Sharyn stared. “Christ. It’s not that bad here, or maybe it is and the hospital wasn’t saying. Finn did say the A&E, Accident and Emergency reception, was overflowing when he took his Mum in the car. She hates that, being lifted in and out and using a hospital chair.”

  “We could strap her wheelchair down in the back of the pickup?”

  Sharyn laughed. “Mary might enjoy that. She’s cheerful most of the time, but takes tons of pills to stay that way. Because of pain, not depression. The drug dealers should raid her cupboard, not an ambulance.” Sharyn looked at the kitbag again and sighed. “Not one?”

  “If it worries you, I could nip down to the rifle club.” Harry smiled at Sharyn’s startled expression. “I kept up my membership with a good old standing order. My old rifle should still be there if it isn’t worn out.” Harry shrugged. “Not mine, technically, but I paid for it and the club said they’d only loan that rifle to people who could really shoot. To people who would treat it decently. Not that I could bring a rifle home anyway.”

  “You could steal it?” Sharyn laughed. “Gotcha. Your face is a picture. Revenge for the house suggestion.” Her face straightened. “But you might want to check if the gun club is still open.”

  “They’d better be. They’ve been taking my bloody money for over three years because I kept thinking I’d get leave.” Harry pulled out his wallet and then stopped. “I didn’t keep the card. Did you keep my old gear?”

  “Your Sci-Fi paperbacks and little black book? Plus the first love letter or whatever was in that box. At least it didn’t smell.” Sharyn relented. “Yes, in the back of my wardrobe. Though you said a year or so until you had a chance to sort yourself out.”

  “I was only seventeen when I was in the country the last time, so I didn’t work up much of a black book. Though the book does have the number of the gun club. If the phone is working?”

  “Hang on.” Sharyn lifted the receiver and listened. “There’s a dial tone so I’ll go and get the box.”

  “Good, because I couldn’t get a connection from London.”

  A few minutes later Sharyn tried to peek while Harry slid out the address book. There was a garter in there, and a picture of a girl wearing it with a big red lipstick kiss and not a lot else obscuring her. Neither were something a big sister should see. Then Harry dialled the phone number.

  “There’s an answerphone message saying they’re not open without an appointment, and another phone number. Have you got a pen?” Harry tried the number again once he had a biro and a pad and wrote down the contact.

  “Right, I’ll try this one. I wonder why they’re closed? You’d think more people would want to join or at least practice on a range, what with the fireworks.” Both were referring to the gunfire, which was now clearly audible again, as fireworks. That took the edge off how serious the reality was.

  “Harry Miller. I’m a member. Yes, honest, look me up.” Harry sat with the phone to his ear and waited. Sharyn was curious so he covered the mouthpiece. “He doesn
’t know me, never heard of me, and doesn’t want to talk about the club.” Then Harry took his hand away and spoke into the phone. “Hello? Did you find me?”

  Sharyn listened to a one-sided conversation as Harry persuaded the man on the other end that he was that Harry Miller and had been in the Army, and was home now. The phone went down and Harry really looked worried.

  “He won’t meet unless it’s in the pub up the road, in broad daylight, and he wants to see my ID. Not only that but it’s got to be on Monday, after the weekend. Otherwise he won’t show me where the range is or let me in. Christ, I could drive right to the place but Mr Pilsworth nearly had a bloody fit when I offered to do that.”

  Harry looked over at Sharyn. “There’s all of six members left and he’s only seen two in the last month. He’s worried about some toerag finding the range and nicking everything. If I was a toerag I’d be round there with a crowbar.”

  “You are a toerag. Are you going in your stolen motor?”

  “Ouch, low blow. Yes, and wearing my stolen jeans though at least I’ve now got some shirts and a civvie jacket.”

  “You could have more?” Sharyn gave a sad little smile. “Some of Freddie’s clothes would fit.”

  “Thanks, but that would feel weird, and won’t it upset you?”

  “Not really, I don’t think. If it does, then you can clear them out for me? Please? I can’t do it.” Sharyn sighed. “I went to the service and scattered his ashes and yet somehow getting rid of Freddie’s clothes means he won’t be coming back. That’s all screwed up, I know. Maybe if you wander round here in his trousers and maybe wear his coat, it will sort of close things down?”

  “OK. It will still seem weird but I’ll try with the coat.” Harry smiled. “I doubt I’ll fill his trousers.” Freddie was a hero to a younger Harry. The big, cheerful soldier who swept sis off her feet. Even now Harry still felt a bit of that hero-worship. Freddie, and Stones, were the reasons Harry joined up but sis didn’t need to know that.