by M J Dees
On the big stretch, Annabel and Jim watched media pundits harp on about how the time had arrived for the monarchy and that people wanted a change, to take power into their own hands.
“Into Roberts’s hands,” Jim complained.
Then they watched something they hadn’t expected. It was an interview that the Chief of the Defence Staff, General Sir Nathan Marshall, had given to a French journalist in which he stated that “The British Armed Forces can rely on Roberts and Roberts can rely on The British Armed Forces.”
The pundits had a field day with this, confirming that, before his death, the King had been the Commander-in-Chief and that it was natural to assume that this role would pass to the new president. However, they seemed less concerned about this than the debate about who would assume the head of the commonwealth.
One by one, interviews with commonwealth prime ministers revealed their intention to hold their own referenda and their desire for their countries to declare themselves republics.
First came Australia, then Canada, New Zealand and Jamaica. Shorter clips revealed similar intentions in Barbados, Tuvalu, Fiji, St Vincent and the Grenadines.
“What about countries that don’t want to become republics?” Jim mused.
“How many are there?” Annabel asked.
Jim checked his stretch.
“Antigua and Barbuda, Belize, Grenada, Papua New Guinea, St Kitts and Nevis, St Lucia, The Solomon Islands and The Bahamas.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe the Duke can still be their King.”
“I think it’s more likely President Roberts will be head of state and if they don’t like it, they can leave the Commonwealth.”
“End of empire.”
They sat in silence for a moment or two.
“Do you think the house will be ready for October,” Annabel asked at last.
“If the rain holds off, there’s no reason why not.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
*
As the referendum results unfolded on the big stretch, it soon became clear that Roberts had won a sizable majority.
“38 million, yes. 5 million no or spoilt papers,” Jim read “A third. of the yes’s voted yes out of fear, I reckon. The campaign probably intoxicated a third.”
“And the other third,” asked Annabel.
“Fear and intoxication. Nothing but bad news.”
“Not everything is terrible news, it still has rained little so Garcia has been getting on with the house.”
“That’s not all good news.”
“What do you mean?”
“Garcia told me he’s been having difficulty getting hold of all the materials he needs.”
On cue, Annabel and Jim heard the rain fall outside.
“I feel ill,” said Annabel.
“Don’t worry, the rain won’t last forever. Garcia said that as soon as he has the materials, it won’t be long before they put the roof on.”
“No, I mean, I really feel ill. It must be something I ate,” she said, getting up and rushing to the toilet.
*
“The good news is that the house will be ready by October,” said Garcia over the video call.
“And the bad news?” asked Jim.
“They won’t extend the electricity supply all the way to your property.”
“Why not?”
“They say it is not worth the expense just for one customer and you can’t afford to pay for the work by yourself.”
“So, we can move in October, but we won’t have any electricity.”
“That’s right.”
“Water?”
“Already sorted.”
“Gas?”
“I’m still working on that but, between you and me, are you sure you want gas? Have you seen the prices?”
Jim’s sigh was audible.
“What are the alternatives?”
“You could have a generator.”
“No, too noisy and expensive.”
“They have silent models on the market now but, yes, it would be expensive.”
“Solar?”
“A possibility, though you might find you end up sheltered by all these trees you’ve been planting. Wind’s not an option for the same reason, but I think your best bet is your stream. Sticking a pelton wheel in that stream would generate electricity 24 hours a day which you could store in batteries or fuel cells until you need to use it. You could even generate your own hydrogen.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“It’s stored in fuel cells till you need the electricity.”
“Not for cooking then?”
“No, your wood burner is best for that, it’ll run off pellets.”
“Sounds good. How much will it cost me?”
“Not too much, I hope, but it wasn’t in the original budget, so I’ll have to get back to you with an estimate.”
Jim dropped his stretch into his pocket and returned to the job, which Garcia had interrupted when he called, packing his library of books into boxes.
One effect of the Government’s education reforms had been a reduction in the number of students entering universities, and Jim worried that the next term might be his last as he became superfluous to requirements.
*
The contents of Annabel and Jim’s flat filled two vans. No sooner had the vans left the flat than the rain came in a downpour, thankfully stopping just before the vans arrived at the new house.
Then vans were unloaded and, once the men had dumped everything in the new house in a chaotic state, Annabel and Jim returned to the apartment to collect the only remaining belongings, Wilks and Magennis, the cats, and the philodendron plant..
Relieved they were out of the flat by the due date, they tried to organise the new house as best they could without electricity or gas.
“What are we going to do?” asked Jim. “Winter is practically here already and we’ve got no heating or lighting and nothing to cook on.”
“I was thinking of a range,” said Annabel. “We can use pellets or wood. We can use it to cook and connect it to a back boiler and a central heating system.”
“That’s what Garcia suggested, but how much is all that going to cost?”
“Do you have an alternative?”
“Garcia will hook up the pelton wheel and build a little shed for the batteries.”
“That’s just for electric light, Jim. It won’t generate enough for cooking or heating. Look, I’ll send you a link.”
Jim looked at his stretch and browsed the site for a moment.
“I guess that’s the only solution,” he said. “But it’s not cheap. How are we going to pay for this on top of everything else?”
“We’ll find a way.”
Annabel and Jim sat in their new house, lit by candles, drinking tea from hot water heated by a hastily bought paraffin stove and eating ham sandwiches next to the fireplace, which Annabel had insisted Garcia include in his designs.
*
Jim sat at his desk, surrounded by unpacked boxes and his philodendron plant. He was trying to work but the constant noise of Garcia’s workers, still finishing the house and other workers undoing the work of Garcia to install the new wood stove and solar water heating system, was too much to contend with and Jim sat, staring into space wondering when Annabel, excited by all the activity on her new house, would remember that it was his birthday.
He felt dirty in the way he used to when he used to be in the army and found himself in situations with inadequate washing facilities. The cats were a constant worry, Wilks was constantly trying to hide and Magennis so full of curiosity that Jim was forever worried he would get in the way of a builder and injure himself. Olivia, not yet five, was a similar hazard, so they awarded her the responsibility of trying to keep the Magennis out of trouble.
Garcia had got the pelton wheel installed so Annabel and Jim had electric light and a working fridge, but they still rustled up basic meals using a camping stove.
At the university, Silva and Wu had both received their doctorates. Jim couldn’t help feeling jealous and desperately wanted to finish his thesis, but the building work made it impossible to achieve anything at home.
He went out for a walk, climbing up the hill behind the house and looking out over the village situated halfway down the valley. It tempted him to walk down there for a quick pint in the village pub, but he knew Annabel would reprimand him for wasting money on booze.
His stretch vibrated. The signal was stronger up on the edge of the moor than it was in the house. He read the message; it was just a notice from the university. He consoled himself that at least he had twelve students this term, and the university had not yet made him redundant.
They had taken the winter aid ‘voluntary’ tax from his salary, and Jim worried that he would have to suspend his pension payments to meet all his commitments.
Chapter Twenty - 17 years 11 months before the collapse
Jim packed up his papers, having given a lecture to six students, only half of those who had enrolled in the course.
Perhaps it was this insecurity for his future that dissuaded Jim from making a stand at the university’s ceremony to swear allegiance to the Unity Party and President Roberts.
The chancellor began by drawing everyone’s attention to the sanctity of the oath and reminding them they would need to sign a printed form of the oath. Everyone swore and signed the oath, even King, Harris, Lewis and Jim.
The shout, ‘welcome Unity’, followed the verbal swearing of the oath. Then everyone crowded round the paper to sign.
The whole situation filled Jim with dismay and he felt even worse when, on the maglev on the way home, he read that there was a proposal to arm postal delivery workers to combat the rising wave of thefts.
On the way home, Jim visited a bookshop recommended to him by Wu, one of the few remaining bookshops in the city. Jim got on well with the owner, an old man called Khan who seemed to trust Jim and confided to him that, having lived in the country for 27 years, they had served him a deportation notice two months ago, along with hundreds of his countrymen, when the Government changed the rules, but had gone to his embassy and his Pakistan had threatened to expel hundreds of British workers in return and they withdrew the deportation order.
Khan asked Jim if he had noticed the increase in adverts for military recruitment. Jim admitted he had.
“There’s trouble brewing, mark my words?” said Khan. “You know that business with the fishing? That will end badly.”
Fishing was one of the many issues that remained unresolved from one set of trade talks to another, and, just like his predecessors, Roberts had frequently threatened to ban European boats from all UK waters.
When he arrived home, Jim found Annabel, worn out, on the sofa, having worked in the garden during all the daylight hours available. She was watching a news item on the big stretch reporting that Europe had made concessions on the fishing agreement to appease Roberts. Olivia was asleep on the sofa beside her, so Jim took her to bed.
“I don’t know why he’s so obsessed with the fishing rights,” said Jim. “There’s almost no fish left in the sea, anyway.”
He slumped down on the sofa next to her and pulled out his stretch.
“Look at this,” he said after a while, showing his stretch to Annabel.
“We can’t afford to join a wine club.”
“No, not that, it’s just an ad. Look here, at the sign off. It doesn’t say ‘welcome Unity’ at the bottom.”
“Oh yeah, that makes a pleasant change.”
“Maybe it’s a sign that the tide is turning.”
Jim soon changed his mind, however, when he checked his email and found a reminder from the lecturer’s association to complete a form relating to ‘cultural heritage’, where was he born, where were his parents born, where were their parents born?
“Please respond within five days with the completed form or reasons for non-completion. We assume that, as an educator of young people, you would not want to hinder the reconstruction of our unified nation.”
Jim completed the form and sent it only to find the next email was from the village Winter Aid representative, obviously a circular, warning residents against slipping into the complacency of thinking the ‘voluntary’ contribution taken from their salaries is enough.
*
Annabel and Jim had accepted an invitation to spend New Year’s Eve with the Harris’s. They had put Olivia to bed in Harris’s spare room and settled down to enjoy the evening.
“This year will be Roberts’ last,” said Charlotte, raising her glass in what everyone hoped was a prophetic toast.
“Have you heard from Ben?” David asked Jim.
“Yes, it turns out they asked him to resign ‘voluntarily’ otherwise, he was told, it might affect his pension.”
“How’s he doing?”
“I think Ben always had money and there’s a family business. I think he’ll be okay.”
As Jim said this, he was reflecting on his own lack of means and absence of family income.
“And how are your lectures going?” David probed.
“I’m down to three students, they graduate this year and the ministry seems to be against new matriculation, so I’ll maybe have to retire at the end of the year.”
“That’s nice, you can focus on your writing and your doctorate.”
“It would be nice if we could afford it, but it’ll perhaps halve our income.”
“At least you’ve got this place.”
Jim grunted; he didn’t want David’s sympathy. Some empathy would be nice. He didn’t tell David that he had stopped contributing to his life insurance policy.
David wasn’t the only person with whom Jim was afraid to discuss these issues. He didn’t speak to Annabel about the possibility of losing half their income.
“Have you heard about the ‘voluntary’ sterilisation programme?” asked Charlotte.
“What do you mean?” Annabel wasn’t sure she had heard correctly.
“Have you not heard of the Prevention of Hereditary Diseases Act?” said Charlotte. “They passed it ages ago. They sold it as a voluntary programme for those with hereditary conditions like Huntingdon’s to choose not to risk passing on their condition but they now require doctors by law to report anyone with a condition on the official list and many sterilisations are being carried out when unnecessary or uncalled for. Babies at risk of Downs, for example.”
“Jesus!” said Jim. “That’s the first I’ve heard of it.”
“Tell us about your new house,” said David, seeing the downturn in mood and trying to change the subject.
“They have finally installed the cooker and central heating system,” said Jim. “But the cooking takes much longer than I think it should, and the cost of solid fuel is much higher than I’d expected.”
Jim paused for a moment in thought.
“This sterilisation thing has reminded me of something that happened before Christmas,” he said, dashing David’s hope of lifting the mood. “I’ve been visiting a bookshop recommended to me by Wu. Last time I was there, the owner told me that there is a list of books considered divisive and they have ordered a danger to the unity of the nation and he had to surrender them. I couldn’t believe it.”
“Surrender them to whom?” asked Charlotte.
“I didn’t ask. I was too surprised, and he was too livid, ranting about how he wasn’t being compensated.”
“Do you know which books?”
“None of the classics, mainly post-brexit stuff, I think.”
“Something I’ve noticed,” said David. “There has been a lot more talk in the news about Chagos and Gibraltar.”
“What do you mean?” asked Annabel.
“What does a leader do when things are not going very well at home? They seek a conflict elsewhere to distract the attention of the population.”
“You don’t think the Chagos dispute will come to anything, do y
ou?” asked Jim.
“Not so long as no other major powers take sides, but the Gibraltar situation has been getting more and more tense. Have you considered getting out, like Ben?”
“I don’t want to leave my country,” said Jim. “But even if I did, I don’t have the opportunity. John Morgan is over visiting his sick father and he offered to make enquiries for me, but I don’t know. How about you?”
David shrugged.
*
Jim had three students at his lecture and yet, somehow, still they had not dismissed him. He packed up his notes and hurried to the maglev. He had arranged to meet Annabel at the Harrises but he had to go to Kahn’s bookshop first, to sell him some books to raise more money to see out the month. It was that or an advance on his life insurance policy, which the Government had now permitted through recent rules designed to stimulate the still flagging economy.
When he arrived, Annabel was already there and Henry Harris introduced Jim to Thomas Honeyman, from the British Library and Mariam Mohamed, whom Jim knew from the university, with her husband, Net.
“We are thinking of moving,” Miriam confessed. “We’ve put our house on the market.”
“But how long do you think Roberts will last?” asked Jim.
“Do you not think if they replace Roberts it will only be with something worse?”
“Has the new Minister of Education had any effect on your world?” Thomas asked Jim and Henry.
“We have to be in our offices from 8.30 am to 5 pm,” said Henry. “There are inspectors who come and check.”
“He reminds me of a sergeant major,” said Jim.
“Have you read The Forward?” Thomas asked.
“Roberts’ news site? It’s all about foreigners ruining our country,” Henry complained. “They claim that the fact all international trade deals have to use the K digital currency, it is an attack on British sovereignty but it’s not the rest of the world’s fault Roberts wouldn’t sign up.”
*
The day Jim had feared arrived at last, and it arrived via an email on his stretch.