by Terry Tyler
"Erika tells me you're after a job."
He takes a deep breath. "I am, yes."
Verlander's face softens. "The last eighteen months have been hard, right? You've lost people?"
Smarmy bastard. Verlander couldn't give a fast fuck if he's lost everyone he's ever loved and been living in a hole in the ground for the past one and a half years, and the assumption that he'll be taken in by the feigned empathy is a fucking insult. Mr Perma-Tan is assessing the extent of his desperation, that's all. How little he'll accept.
"I've got by."
"Glad to hear it. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?"
Oh, for fuck's sake. "Right."
"Okay!" And he's all business again, clasping his hands together. "Erika tells me you have experience in labouring within the construction trade, so we can get you started tomorrow, if you like. Eight-thirty prompt." He laughs. "I'm assuming you don't have to give notice to a current employer!"
"Hold up." Doyle puts up a hand. "What's in it for me? I don't need money. I've got nowhere to spend it. No rent and bills to pay. I want a beer, I take it from behind the bar where I'm living. I want clothes, I—"
"We know." Erika smiles, and touches Verlander's arm as if to say 'I'll do this bit'. "Brian, I don't know your exact circumstances, but I assume there's little luxury involved. You're making fires to heat water, eating out of old cans, defecating in holes in the ground. That so?"
He's not used to talking bowel movements with women who look like Erika. "Like I said, I get by."
She smiles, but she doesn't seem insincere, not like Verlander. "Sure you do, but you want to do more than get by. We can offer you a warm, clean place to sleep, clean clothes, a comfortable rec room, decent food and drink, and, most importantly, the company of others. We have power; no more candles. We pay by a system of credits, which you use for food—it's not quite up to the standard of the old world, but it's good. You use them for a beer after work, our gym, masseurs, and on-site movie theatre. You want to get yourself a vehicle, there'll be no more siphoning gas; we provide it. And you could, in the not too distant future, have your own brand new apartment on the development, with power and running water. You'd even have the chance to own it."
"We also have flushing toilets," Verlander puts in.
Now that is a pull. "Really?"
"Shitcha not." Verlander laughs. "One of the first things we did was put in a sewage system. Now, tell me this doesn't all sound pretty damn awesome."
Doyle heaved a big sigh. "It does."
"Good! Right, you'll start tomorrow. Report to Gate A for duty; that's the one you came in today. Oh, and as time goes on, I might have another option for you. Something that won't involve getting dirty." He smiles. "More in tune with your data analysis skills. Sound good?"
Doyle nods. "One thing you haven't told me. What is this site? What am I working on? Can't be houses; why would you build more when there are millions of empty ones all over the country?"
Verlander and Erika look at each other, and nod.
"This is the beginning," Erika says.
"Of what?"
"UK 2.0. I don't know how far you've wandered around the country; you may know that many old cities and towns have been demolished, and we haven't finished yet. We're preserving locations of historic interest, those beautiful old English villages, the ancient universities and cathedrals; in the future, this island will be all about learning and recreation, along with light industry."
Doyle nods. "Okay. I get that. I think. But what are you building here?"
Verlander and Erika look at each other again, as if communicating, wordlessly, how much to tell him. Or perhaps this has already been agreed upon.
"This is the new HQ." Verlander's eyes trap his in their intense stare. "UK Central, commonly known as UKC: the hub, the shining new capital city from where the whole of UK 2.0 will be administered." He gestures out of the window. His bright blue eyes and that white, white smile are mesmerising. "This is your chance to be in on the ground floor. I'm glad you've found us, Brian. Say yes, and you'll be part of the brave new world. There, doesn't that sound better than eating out of cans and shitting in the woods?"
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Aria
February
I'm losing him.
Since he came back from his jaunt with Miss Pretty, he's retreated from me. I ask him what's the matter, and he pretends he doesn't know what I'm talking about. Says stuff like, "I've just been tired lately".
After 'it's not you, it's me', 'I'm just tired' has to be the biggest I've gone off you cliché of all time.
I don't bump into her very often, but when I do, she avoids me. Mostly, I see her at the hotel when I come back from a run, and she scoots into another room.
At the weekly meetings she sits by Dex, like a dutiful wife, and I watch carefully to see if she's giving Heath secret looks.
She does, I'm sure she does.
His mind is elsewhere, all the time. And he doesn't want to fuck. He takes night shifts on the watch, which is manned all the time now, even when the tide is in. He comes back during the early hours, and is still asleep when I get up to go on runs.
Sometimes we're still okay, but never more than okay.
None of my old tricks are working. Not even the one in which I just happen to be leaning on the window sill, looking out of the window in nothing but a white lacy thong, when he walks in the bedroom.
That's worked with every man I've ever known, ever. I did it the other day and gave Martin the journalist an eyeful of my tits as he was walking past. Not that this was my intention, but I'm sure it made his day.
I've struggled through nice-girl-who's-so-interested-in-everything-you-say, and I've even tried my pièce de résistance, i.e. about-to-come-noises in the bathroom with the door slightly open, in the hope that he'll not be able to resist investigating, but I might as well be Cleary the stinky biker for all the interest he takes.
I know why. My tricks aren't sexy because I don't feel sexy.
I feel desperate.
I mooch out on runs with Bitch Kara, Paul Hardworking-Taxpayer Lincoln, Lottie and Nicole, and the two lab guys who looked after me on invasion night, when Heath was too busy. The runs aren't fun now. No Heath, and we have to go street by street, to make sure we don't miss anything. Ian and Paul go off on petrol siphoning duty, while I do house to house with the others. Sometimes I have a laugh with Nish, but I'm always on the outside. I don't fit in. Nobody actively wants my company. I'm only there because I offer to go.
Today we stop off at the farm on the way back to drop off pesticides and fertiliser. They're in a barn doing whatever people do on farms in January. It's cosy inside, people are talking, laughing, and for a moment I wish I was part of their group. There are new people, and I don't even know their names. How come nobody bothered to introduce me?
I feel so alone that I sidle up to Travis, who is heating up water on an old stove to make hot drinks for everyone. I remember the day we got out of the bunker, how I flashed him my dazzling smile and knew he was mine. I try it again, and chat away about the run and what it was like in Berwick (scary and cold), and he just looks at me, all tired, and says, "What do you want, Aria?"
I'm hurt. Like we've never been anything to each other.
"I just wanted a chat. You know, I miss you."
"Do you?"
"Of course I do. We went through a lot together." I put my head on one side; he likes that. "This time last year I was nursing you through bronchitis, remember?"
Unfortunately he's busy spooning out Cadbury's instant hot chocolate into several mugs, so he doesn't see how alluring I look. "A lot has happened since then. You're still with Heath?"
"Well, yes, but we're not as good together as you and I were. But that's got nothing to do with me wanting to talk to you."
He gives a little laugh to himself. "Oh, it's everything to do with it, I imagine."
"What do you mean?"
"
Never mind."
"Travis—"
He looks up. His eyes are so blue, and he's even more handsome now that manual work and lack of junk food have toned his muscles, trimmed off any excess fat; his face looks square, chiselled. But he still looks so sad.
Then he says, "Are you not happy with him?"
I don't answer that. I can't. But I wonder. "Why? If I wasn't with him, would you want me back? I mean, if Heath went away?"
He doesn't answer; he looks at me for a long time, then shrugs his shoulders and turns his back on me.
He didn't say no, though. And I could tell by his eyes that he would, even if he feels the need for a token attempt at playing hard to get, for the sake of his pride.
I'm good at reading eyes.
Which is how I know, later, that Heath has been with Vicky. He looks glowing, alive. The way he used to look when we first started, only more so.
Because he wants her more than he ever wanted me.
I know it. I've always known it.
I can't lose him. I couldn't bear to see him every day, knowing he doesn't want me any more. It would finish me off.
I remember, a long time ago, hearing a friend of my mother talking about the pain of losing her husband to another woman.
She said, "I'd rather he'd died. That would actually hurt less."
At the time I thought that was crazy. Evil. But now I know what she meant.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lottie
Big shock!
Mum has stuff to say to me and insists we go for a walk, which is the last bloody thing I want to do because it's pissing down with rain as per usual. She says it's important, though.
We tog up in waterproof chic and go up to The Heugh—which is when I find out that she's been shagging Heath.
Bloody hell!
Of course, she doesn't actually say 'been shagging', because she's my mum; she says 'we've become close again, and have realised that we want to be together', which explains her random absences and dreamy smiling.
"I've been wondering whether or not to tell you yet, but we both think it's the right move. You need to know what's going on with me, don't you?"
Yeah, and she's madly in love and can't keep it in. I remember how Avery used to drone on about Neil all the time. And then Christian. I think she might be knocking off Zoot now, so I'm glad we're not such great mates any more. At least with Mum I won't have to hear all the gory details.
"You probably think I'm bad for cheating on Dex," she says.
"I don't. It's because you're in love. He just did it for a bit of variety."
She laughs. "You do tend to put things in a nutshell. It's hard for me to tell you about this, but we've always been totally honest with each other, haven't we?"
Well, no. No way am I telling her about my private life. She thinks I'm still a virgin. There's only been Archie, but I think there might be someone else soon. I'm not saying who. Oh, okay, then, I will. It's Mac. Biker Mac. He's been teaching me and Nicole how to fight hand to hand, how to throw people off and not get knifed, and I know he likes me. Nicole thinks he does, too.
Mumsie continues with her revelations as we trudge along the water's edge and climb up the hill; the fine rain sprays my face and I remember Granny telling me it's good for your skin, so I hold my face up to the sky.
I'm made up that Mum's with Heath at last. I knew he still liked her on invasion night, because he did Big Protector and made sure we were safe before going to find stupid Aria. Dex deserves all he gets, and he's been a right tit lately, anyway. They should just come out with it, kick Dex and Aria to the curb and be together, but Mum says it's not that simple. Aria's a psycho-bitch, and Heath is worried that she will go off her trolley if he dumps her. Like, top herself; Mum doesn't actually say those words.
"Are you and Heath madly in love?" I ask.
She goes pink. "Yes."
"Awesome!"
"This is a small island," she says. "It'll cause problems. We just want to enjoy being together for a while, before we face the music." She's really hoping I will understand, I can tell. It's sweet. But then she says something that turns all this lovely stuff on its head.
"Lottie, I know you won't like this, but when we've told everyone about us, we plan to leave."
"What?"
"Make a fresh start somewhere else. You, me, Heath and Jax. Give it a go on our own. Maybe near other survivors, or another community, eventually, if it proves impossible to go it alone. What do you think?"
Fuck, no. "Mum, you can't! I love it here!"
She blows a load of air out of her mouth. "That's what I thought you'd say. Now you see why there's more to think about than what Heath and I want for ourselves."
Shit. This is serious. "But you wouldn't have to go—this sort of thing is hard at first, D'you remember when Mia's dad left her mum for that slag who worked in the Dolphin? It was a right bitch-fest at first, but it calms down after a while."
She looks out to sea. "Heath wants to go, badly. He wants to take me, you and Jax and leave."
I look at her face and I can't tell what she's thinking. "Do you want to?"
She smiles at me. "I want to be wherever Heath is. But yes, I do. When we were down in Norfolk and Suffolk—oh, it's so much nicer down there. Peaceful. No trouble. I miss that part of the country. We saw farms, smallholdings. We've learned about the practicalities of survival now; we think we can do it."
"Yeah? And what will me and Jax do? Tend crops and only talk to each other for the rest of our lives? And how will we protect what we've got if there are only four of us?"
"I don't know, love; maybe we would have to find another community somewhere. One where people aren't getting killed. We haven't thought it all through yet."
Now she sounds just as stupid as Avery. "Well, you need to! What about Kara and Phil? You can't leave them, they're like our family!"
"I know, it'll be hard. I'd miss them all, but there's too much bad feeling here." She looks down, and kicks at a bit of earth. "If I left, Dex would probably go back to Naomi. Be a proper father to his son."
"But what about me? What about my friends? I don't want to leave Nicole; she's lost Sean, and Jonas and Siobhan, and I can't leave Flora on her own, can I?"
"No. Perhaps she could come with us. And Nicole."
But could Mac? However much he might like me, he'd never leave his club. They're like blood brothers. "Jax won't want to go, either. He's well in with the Hadrian; Cleary is doing up Ash's bike for him."
Mum frowns. "That's a bit spooky. Why doesn't he just find a new one?"
"It's got the Hadrian logo on it. Anyway, it's not spooky; Ash didn't die on the bike, did he?"
"No." She touches me on the shoulder. "You can see why it's not quite as simple as Heath and me walking out hand in hand and announcing our relationship to the world. And you must promise me you won't mention the leaving thing to Jax; you understand how important it is for no one to find out about Heath and me, don't you?"
"Yes." I sigh. "Yeah, course I do."
We walk on; we're nearly at the top, and we stand for a while, looking out across the water. It's so misty we can't even see Bamburgh Castle. Mum looks dead vexed; I want to cheer her up so I grab her arm and put my head on her shoulder.
"I'm glad about you and Heath. I always hoped you'd be with him."
Our waterproofs scrunch together as she turns to kiss my forehead, like I'm her little girl. "Thanks, sweetie. I know. I should have been brave enough to be with him from the start, instead of trying to go back. If I had, none of this would have happened."
"Do you not love Dex now?" I sound childish, even to myself.
"Yes and no, and I don't know." We both laugh.
"It's sad, though, isn't it?"
"Yes. It is. All of it." Her eyes go all far away. "But it isn't just about survival, now. It's about finding a way to live, too. Quality of life. That's one thing that Dex is right about."
Mos' def. That's why I want t
o stay here and see what's going to happen with Mac. For my quality of life. I deserve some of that shit, too.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Heath
She says Dex suspects nothing.
"He's too busy being the great chronicler of post-bat Britain to notice what I'm doing." She's lying back with the seashell patterned duvet pulled up to her chin; it's bloody cold in here.
Warm and wonderful in our bed, though.
"Fancies himself as the next Venerable Bede, does he?" I say. Vicky told me about him; he came from around where we lived, in Elmfield, in the 7th century.
"I'm sure he was never as pretentious as Dex." She snuggles up to me. "And it gets even worse after Naomi's editing. She inserts an 'egregious' every fifth page, whether it's needed or not."
I kiss her. "I don't even know what that means, and no, please don't tell me. Talking of Bede, do you remember that day we went out to the monastery ruins at Jarrow? I wanted to tell you how I felt about you that day. Stopped myself, though."
She kisses me back. "I sort of knew. I felt it too, but I was still waiting for Dex. Silly cow that I was."
I don't want to think about Dex and Naomi, or anyone else on this island apart from the few I care about. "D'you think Lottie will come round about us leaving?"
She traces her hand down my stomach and I get a twinge in the groin area; my heart rate has only just gone back to normal after last time. "Not yet, but it'll be okay. She'll whinge like crazy, but then she'll think, 'right, this is how it is, so how do I make it not suck too much?'"
I like that. "My bet is that when she meets other people she'll find them just as awesome as those she's so stuck on here."
"That's what I think. I'm glad you understand my daughter so well!" She flops back and looks up at the ceiling. "I think we may have to take Flora with us, though."
I badly do not want to do that. "She's not your responsibility. She'll latch on to someone else if we're gone."