Outside - a post-apocalyptic novel

by Shalini Boland

  ‘Hello,’ I say to one of them. ‘Is Marcia here? The Mayor told us it would be okay for us to see her.’

  ‘Wait there,’ he says and disappears inside the tent. He returns moments later with a large round lady, dressed from head to toe in royal blue silk. She has an unflattering blue bonnet perched on her shiny bowl haircut and a row of green bangles jangle on her arm. She’s drains the contents of her pint glass as she strides towards us.

  ‘Hello, hello. I’m Marcia Rowbotham. You must be our visitors. Care for a drink? I’m on the Old Ozzlehorn, it’s a great tipple.’

  She shakes our hands and we follow her into the tent. The interior sparkles like a glamorous five-star hotel in a scene from a movie. We have to take our footwear off at the entrance and put on a pair of silken embroidered Turkish slippers. I can see why, as I step from grass into deep cream shag-pile carpet.

  Great long sofas and ornate armchairs have been arranged in cosy groups around low dark wood tables. Dining tables are laid out in elegant rows. Crystal chandeliers glitter from the ceiling and a string quartet plays soothing sounds, blending with soft chatter and the gentle clink of glasses and silver cutlery. You would never guess we were in the middle of a field on a hot summer’s day.

  Next to the bar, a sumptuous buffet is laid out on white cloth-covered trestles and the VIPs are digging in with barely-concealed abandon, all as outlandishly dressed as Marcia Rowbotham. It’s a strange sight and these eccentric people look completely at odds with their formal surroundings.

  ‘What can I do for you young ‘uns?’ she says, handing us each a half pint of beer and motioning for us all to sit on one of the sofas.

  ‘We were just wondering if it would be possible to stay here overnight and then carry on with our journey in the morning?’ I ask.

  ‘Course it would. Not a problem. You can stay with us at the Lodge. Aubs and I will meet you for afternoon tea at four, we’ll talk then. Now I must get back to meeting and greeting. You go off and enjoy yourselves. We’ll see you later. Leave the glasses in the tent, when you’ve finished.’

  She heaves her huge bulk off the soft armchair and is gone. My stomach is rumbling with disappointment that she didn’t offer us any of the delicious-looking food from the buffet, and the beer’s making me light-headed. But on second thoughts, I’m relieved we don’t have to stay and make small talk with strangers. I want Luc all to myself.

  We spend a glorious three-and-a-half hours, eating, drinking and dozing in the sunshine. We also have a good wander around the fair, exclaiming at the exceptionally gorgeous farm animals - shaggy coated cattle, llamas, plumptious poultry, curly horned rams, comical ducks, spotted pigs, yellow-eyed goats and all their adorable offspring. We watch the show jumping, the pony and trap display and the tractor racing.

  As much as I’m enjoying all the sights, my breath is shallow and my senses are heightened. Each time Luc touches my hand or my arm, it’s like I’m on fire. When we kiss lightly, I want the world to melt away so we can kiss deeply. But now isn’t the time and I have to tell myself that we’ve got all the time in the world. That we can enjoy having fun this afternoon, because the rest can come later.

  The highlight of the afternoon’s entertainment is Penny Purvis, a drunken goose shepherdess, trying to herd her flock through a tricky course, in front of a highly amused audience. She’s wearing a microphone and swearing like a trooper to her oblivious birds, prompting howls of laughter and outraged gasps, before being forcibly removed from the arena. Time whizzes by in a contented blur and soon four o’clock rolls around - time for tea.

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  Eleanor

  *

  Four months later, on an icy cold February morning, Johnny returned to Gloucestershire. The bombings had eased off now, but the borders stayed firmly closed. The military were frantically recruiting as nearly half their force was still trying to get back from overseas and there were rumours they would start compulsory drafting soon.

  Petrol was non-existent and there’d been no food on the supermarket shelves for weeks. People hawked produce in the streets and goods were traded as British coin was currently worthless. People wanted food, alcohol, tobacco and medicine. Pharmacies and hospitals had been emptied of stocks. Supplies, supposed to be on their way, just weren’t getting through to their destinations. Electricity, phones, gas and water were functioning, but only intermittently and people hoarded bottled water.

  We were lucky to be in a small village and not a big town or city where there were riots and looting. It was a surreal time, where a person could be stabbed to death for a pack of cigarettes.

  Johnny came round to call for me on a Saturday night. I was nervous about seeing him again as a lot had changed since we last met. He came in and chatted to my parents and my brothers. He’d brought a case of red wine and a caddy of loose-leaf tea with him as a gift for my parents and they were delighted to accept such a generous gift. He said not to worry, he had plenty at home and he would be offended if they didn’t accept.

  It was unsafe to go out at night now, due to the curfew and I wondered how Johnny had managed to avoid it. He wanted to take me out that evening, but my parents forbid it and he accepted their decision. We went and sat in the conservatory at the back of the house instead. My mum offered him a glass of the precious wine, but he declined and said he’d rather have a cup of tea. We had to drink it black, as we had no milk.

  ‘You’ve got petrol,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, I’ve got good contacts.’

  As I sat in the wicker armchair, next to him, I smoothed my hands over my stomach. His eyes followed my hands and I heard his sharp intake of breath. His eyes widened and then he composed himself, looking up into my defensive eyes.

  ‘Is it his?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’ I had the good grace to look down.

  ‘How far gone are you?’

  ‘Twenty six weeks.’

  ‘Congratulations.’ He didn’t look or sound as if he meant it.

  ‘Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,’ I said. ‘To meet up again after all this time.’ I felt bad for him.

  ‘You being pregnant doesn’t change why I’ve come here. I’ve got a proposition for you and I’d like you to hear me out before you say anything, or make any decision.’ His voice sounded harsh and unfriendly, but I was curious to hear what he’d come to tell me.

  ‘What is it, Johnny?’

  ‘I went back home and … well, Bournemouth’s a virtual war zone now.

  ‘What!’

  ‘No one’s safe, not even in their homes. I’ve had to hire armed guards to protect my place.’

  I couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must be like.

  ‘My next-door-neighbours, the Donovans, they own a security firm and they’ve come up with a good idea. Eddie Donovan’s a smart man and I trust him.’

  ‘What’s his idea?’

  ‘We’ve sectioned off the area where we live and hired guards to protect it from the looters and all the nutcases. In our area, we’ve all clubbed together and put up an enclosure. We had to do it quickly, before they trashed everything. It’s basic, but it’s high and secure. And now we’ve got guards patrolling its perimeter 24 7. Some outsiders were pretty angry, because we’ve sealed-off quite a few roads. They got the army to check it out, but the army has agreed we’re within our rights to defend our properties.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’ve had to do all that.’ My mind spun.

  ‘The thing is, Ellie, we should do the same for your village. And we should do it quickly. Eddie will help me sort it.’

  ‘Is it really necessary here? I mean, we don’t really need protecting. We haven’t had much trouble.’

  ‘Unfortunately, it’s just a matter of time. They could trash your village in an afternoon if they wanted to.’

  ‘They?’

  ‘The nutters. The people who don’t give a rat’s arse about decency or morality. The ones who never had anything to lose in the first place.
They’ll be in and out so quickly, you won’t know what’s hit you. They steal, destroy, rape and murder, and that’s the friendly ones. I’ve seen a lot in the past four months.’

  I was appalled. I hadn’t come close to realising how bad the situation was. I had been too busy, grieving and then adjusting to my new condition, to pay full attention to the outside world. My parents were disappointed in me for getting pregnant. Dad was so cross that he hardly spoke a civil word to me for about a month. But they gradually came round to the idea and it soon became something positive, to take everyone’s mind off the collapsing country.

  ‘Come and speak to Dad,’ I said to Johnny. ‘I can’t really say what to do for the best. He’ll know the right people to talk to about this. Thank you.’

  He paused and looked at me, as if weighing something up in his mind.

  ‘You know that wasn’t really why I came back to see you. You being pregnant threw me off guard a bit. I lost my bottle. I didn’t want you to see me upset, so I just told you all that stuff about the perimeter fence to cover up my shock. But it doesn’t matter anymore. I want to be truthful now.’

  ‘Do you mean there is no fence?’ I asked, confused. ‘Did you make it up?’

  ‘No, there is a perimeter fence, but that isn’t why I came here.’

  ‘So why did you?’

  ‘What I meant to say to you was …’ He took a deep breath and continued. ‘I love you, Eleanor.’ His face flushed. ‘Will you come and live with me in Bournemouth? I’ve got a beautiful house in a protected neighbourhood. We can bring your baby up together. I’d do anything for you, you must know that. I’d look after you.’

  I was shocked and overwhelmed by his unexpected declaration.

  ‘I don’t know what to say. I don’t love you, Johnny. I mean, I really like you and I respect you, but live with you in Bournemouth? I don’t know. What about my family?’

  ‘It’s okay. Just think about it. Tell me when you’ve had a chance to take it in. You wouldn’t regret it. We’d have a good life. Think about what's best for you and for the baby. If you want to, we can still do the perimeter fence here, whatever happens.’

  I didn’t sleep at all that night.

  *

  We married at my family home in Uley and then Johnny and I made a life together in Bournemouth, a place I had never seen before. As it turned out, I never did to get see the original town of Bournemouth, the way it used to be before the attacks. We mainly stayed confined to the safety of the Talbot Woods Perimeter.

  When I arrived at his house, I found out just what a true visionary my husband was, because every single room was piled-high to the ceiling with boxes and crates. After the terror attacks, and during those first stages of social and economic decline, most of the population worried about their immediate safety and petrol for their cars or where they could buy a pint of milk. Johnny, however, was busy securing his future.

  Before the shops sold out, he spent all his money and got store credit in as many places as he could. He stockpiled goods - from crates of whisky and chocolate, to batteries, generators and power tools. He figured if, by some miracle, the world pulled itself back-on-course, he could just return his purchases and there was no harm done. Anyway, the world did no such thing and Johnny ended up with an enviable stash of goods to put him in an incredible position of power. He bartered wisely and steadily increased his stores.

  Our daughter, Riley, was born within the Talbot Woods Perimeter and we had a second child just two years later, another daughter, Skye. We were both fairly content considering what was going on around us. Johnny threw himself into building a safe and comfortable life for us all. He adored being a family man and couldn’t do enough to ensure our well-being and happiness.

  The outside world rarely touched our cosy existence. I knew Johnny probably had to face some tough challenges, but he refused to share all his experiences with me and I didn’t push him to tell me. Young and naïve, I preferred not to dwell on what he might have had to do in the course of his business life. By the time, I matured enough to worry about his career, our roles had been set and it felt like it was too late to question the type of life we led.

  I buried all the raw, unexplored feelings I had for Connor and kept my grief hidden deep where I couldn’t find it. I immersed myself in my new role as the supporting wife and doting mother. If it sometimes felt like play-acting, I didn’t mind. I would imagine myself as the lead character in a play - the glamorous mistress of the manor house. I cultivated lasting friendships with my neighbours and became more and more vivacious and outgoing - a great laugh, an absolute scream, a total head case - that was Ellie Culpepper. It was like this larger-than-life character had taken over the real me.

  My two beautiful children were the centre of my life. I was enthralled by my little girls, falling more and more in love with them every day. I gazed at their sleeping forms in wonder and inhaled their sweet, sweaty scent. I didn’t dare let myself think of Riley’s connection to my lost love, Connor. I loved my girls equally as mine and Johnny’s children - little people in their own right.

  Johnny too, showed no favouritism, fiercely protective of them and this raised him even higher in my esteem. As the years whizzed by, I slid deeper into the easy contentment of privileged family life and the small, hidden stone of grief grew smaller.

  My youngest brother, Tom, now one of Eddie Donovan's guards in the Uley Perimeter, got a site transfer and joined us in Bournemouth five years after I first arrived there. At first glance, it seemed a strange career choice for Tom, the pacifist, vegetarian, champion of the underdog. But the changes to our country had a sobering effect on most citizens and much re-evaluating and shifting of morals took place. Tom said he still believed in his old values, but his previous lifestyle was irrelevant now that our lives were constantly under threat. He wanted to actively contribute to the protection of his family.

  He did his guard training at Uley, along with my other two brothers who stayed on with my parents. I think Tom had itchy feet and was desperate for a change of scenery. He’d always been so used to flitting around the country on some crusade or another. Now it was a shock to find himself a virtual prisoner in his small home town. Much as he loved the rest of my family, it drove him mad having my parents constantly fussing around him.

  I was thrilled to have him in Bournemouth with us. We’d always been close siblings and, although neither of us mentioned Connor, he was an unspoken bond between us. To my delight, Johnny suggested giving Tom the annexe to our house and he was very happy there in his bachelor pad.

  One wintry November day, I lay upstairs on my bed, engrossed in a great book Johnny had got hold of for me - a scary thriller that had me speed-reading to find out what would happen in the end. Reading and drawing were my greatest passions and my husband loved to surprise me with battered paperbacks or rare art materials that had me jumping up and down in excitement and flinging my arms around his neck. He’d always tell me to stop overreacting, but I knew he loved to see me so happy.

  At the end of a chapter, I decided to nip downstairs and make myself a cup of tea and grab a piece of the delicious flapjack Riley had made in her cookery class yesterday. Riley was fourteen now, and developing into a doe-eyed stunner. Skye was a twelve-year-old tomboy with enough cheeky character to get away with whatever she wanted.

  Halfway down the stairs, the doorbell chimed. Dammit. It was too late to pretend I wasn’t in. They would’ve seen me through the window already. The girls weren’t due back from school for another two hours and I cherished my quiet time. Who would be interrupting me at this time of day? Johnny was out working. I sighed and went to open the door, yearning for my book and the piece of flapjack that would now have to wait.

  It was Tom.

  ‘Quick, Ellie, let me in. I’m on duty and I’m not supposed to be here.’

  ‘What’s up, Tom?’ I asked, startled and intrigued.

  ‘I think you better sit down.’

  ‘The girls?�
� I had a moment of pure terror.

  ‘Nothing like that, everyone’s safe.’

  ‘Tell me then. What is it?’

  He guided me into the kitchen and we sat on the L-shaped sofa.

  ‘I’ve got some incredible news.’

  ‘Ye - es?’ I waited for him to continue. ‘For God’s sake, Tom, you’re doing my head in. Spit it out.’

  ‘Connor’s alive and he’s in Bournemouth right now.’

  I thought I’d misheard him.

  ‘Did you hear me, Ellie? Connor’s not dead.’

  My stomach went into freefall. Why now? So many thoughts rushed through my brain. But I had to know one thing before I heard all the details.

  ‘Does Johnny know?’

  ‘No. Only Mum, Dad, Ollie and David. And you and me, of course.’

  ‘Do me a favour and don’t tell anyone else.’

  ‘Of course, sis. Are you okay? This must be a massive shock.’

  ‘Tell me everything.’

  Chapter Forty

  Riley

  *

  Luc and I sit at a long trestle table in the tea tent, opposite Aubrey and Marcia. A three-tiered silver tray is stacked high with freshly baked cakes and warm, crumbly scones. Ramekins contain mountains of clotted cream and homemade strawberry jam. It all looks incredible, but Luc and I are snoozy and stuffed from our long lunch of local beer and barbeque.

  ‘Dig in, m’dears,’ says Marcia, dolloping a huge lump of jam onto her cream-smothered scone.

  ‘Shall I be mother?’ Aubrey’s holding of a large brown teapot, which he’s positioned over my cup. ‘Nettle tea. Not too bad actually, although it is an acquired taste.’

  ‘I’ll give it a go,’ I say. ‘Thank you.’

  He pours out a cup for us all, launching into a eulogy on the high standard of competition entrants this year.

  ‘Della’s Longhorns were outstanding. They absolutely deserved first prize. Did you two manage to see any of our rare breeds? Spectacular! I’ll wager you’ve never seen finer.’