The Wipe
Page 12
+I will see you in it one day+
+Are you sure of that?+
+Today’s a good day, all round… We got our latest test results this morning+
+And it’s good?+
+I’m not contagious any more, and the rash has gone+
+You’re immune!+
+That’s what the test results say+
+That’s brilliant… That’s SO BRILLIANT!+
+There’s no need to shout. LOL. We always knew I was going to be fine+
+I didn’t always know that+
+It’s you, you know… You’ve kept me going+
+You mean, the sex has kept you going+
+Well, I’m sure it hasn’t done me any harm. LOL… It’s all you, though, Chaz. I could never have got through this without you+
+Glad I could help… Frankly, I couldn’t have got through all the happiness in this house without you. If I didn’t have you to talk to, I’d feel like a spare wheel all the time… I do feel like a spare wheel+
+It’s good, though, Charity. It’s a new life+
+In a three-bed with five adults already living in it… And I feel guilty+
+What is there to feel guilty about?+
+Pa was talking about getting our old cot out of the attic, soon… I don’t know why they kept it, it hasn’t been used since I was a baby+
+I bet they’re glad they’ve got it, though. It’s a good thing+
+The problem is, Pa’s working out where he can make a space to put it in Verity and Sage’s room. He’s talking about moving in there with Mum, because their room’s bigger+
+You’re dad’s really into it, isn’t he?+
+He’s always been pretty organised, and he’s hardly working at all. He was doing a lot when this thing started, even when he was working from home, keeping up with ordering and stock checking, and all that sort of stuff. He doesn’t have anything to do any more. I guess the wedding and the baby are keeping him busy+
+Well, isn’t that good?+
+I don’t think him and Mum should have to change bedrooms, though. They’ve been in there for as long as I can remember. It doesn’t seem fair+
+But they need space for the baby+
+If I wasn’t here, they could use my room as a nursery… It would’ve been much simpler if I’d just died when I got this thing. Now, they’re never getting rid of me+
+Don’t say that, Charity… Don’t ever say that+
+Spare wheel… Huge burden… That’s me+
+Shut up, Charity, you don’t know how lucky you are+
There was a short pause.
+What’s going on, Abe?+
Silence
+How’s your dad doing?+
+Not great… His viral load has gone through the roof+
+But, the new medication’s been keeping him stable for weeks… I thought he was better+
+He was, but he’s gone downhill fast in the past couple of days+
+Why didn’t you tell me?+
+I was hoping it was just a blip… Hoping that his viral load would be down again this time… It’s not… It’s way up+
+So what are they going to try next?+
+Nothing+
+Abe… There has to be something! They can’t just…+
+He’s going to die, Charity. My dad’s going to die, and I don’t know how I’m going to handle it+
+Oh, Abe, I’m so, SO sorry!+
+Thanks, Charity… Sorry I snapped at you+
+I deserved it. Snap at me all you want… I’ll be right here, all the way through this. I won’t leave your side… I promise+
+You don’t have to do that, Chaz… I don’t know how long it’s going to be, or what it’s going to be like… I don’t know what to think or what to do+
+Look after yourself, and be with your dad, and remember that I’m right here… That’s all you can do+
+Thanks, Chaz… I’m dreading it… I’m dreading him going… I’m dreading the hazmats coming in to take him away… I’m dreading him not being here+
+I’ll come… I’ll find a way to get to you… We’ll go through this together+
+I can’t let you do that, Charity. They’ll put you in prison… People die in prison+
+I’d go to prison for you… Besides, I’m immune+
+Don’t joke about it, Chaz… Please, PLEASE, stay where you are+
+Okay… but I’m right here… And, we’re going to talk about this again+
+As long as it’s just talk… If I lost you, I don’t think I could go on+
There was a pause. Charity filled it, suspecting Abe couldn’t think what to text and imagining him sitting there in tears.
Charity texted to him until he was finally able to text back.
+I’m okay now. You’re my lifesaver, Charity Mott… I’m going to go and be with Dad now+
+You do that… Take food and drink in with you… It’ll be exhausting, and you need to be strong+
+I promise+
+I love you, Able Dole, and I’m right here, if you need me+
+I love you, too, Charity+
Twenty-nine
“What’s that child been up to all weekend?” asked Pax, as he sat drinking tea with Verity.
“She’s got a friend she talks to a lot,” said Verity. “Maybe they’re just spending some time together.”
“She hasn’t even eaten with us. She takes her food to her room… And never brings the dirty plates back down.”
“Do you want me to have a word with her, Pa?”
“I just want everyone to be happy,” said Pax. “I worry that my baby girl isn’t happy.”
“It’s hard to be happy in the Deluge,” said Verity.
“You seem to manage it,”
“Charity hasn’t got a man, she isn’t pregnant, and she’s not getting married. I’ve got a lot to be happy about, and a lot to be grateful for… Including you, Pa.”
“Charity’s got us,” said Pa. “She’s going to be a bridesmaid and an auntie.”
“Trust me, when you’re a teenager, that isn’t the same thing at all.”
“This friend?” asked Pax.
“That’s her business. She’s an adult. She’s proven that over the past few months. She’s about to turn eighteen, but she’s older than her years. She had to grow up far too soon and far too quickly. She never got to do what the rest of us did when we were her age.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Let her have her friend,” said Verity. “And what does it matter if it’s a boy? He’s probably a very nice boy, and it’s not as if he can hurt her, or get her pregnant.”
“You’re wrong, there. He can definitely hurt her emotionally. I don’t want to watch my child going through a heartbreak.”
“We all get our hearts broken,” said Verity. “It’s part of growing up, a rite of passage, even. Charity’s got a good head on her shoulders, and she’s found someone outside of these four walls that she can relate to. That’s got to be a good thing… Right?”
“Yes, of course,” said Pax. “You’re right. And, not for nothing, you’ve grown up an awful lot too. A year ago I would never have expected you to be the wonderful woman you’ve become.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” said Verity, laughing, “although, it makes me wonder what kind of a woman you did expect me to grow into.”
“Oh I knew you’d be wonderful. I just didn’t know you’d be so wonderful so soon.”
Verity gave her father a hug.
“My oldest daughter’s getting married the day after tomorrow,” said Pax. “It hardly seems possible… Do you think your sister will have reappeared by then?”
“I don’t think she’d miss wearing that dress, or seeing a new face, even if it is only a registrar on Zoom… not for the world.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Right about what?” asked Faith as she walked into the sitting room.
“I’m a grown woman and I’m going to be a mother, I’m pretty sure th
at guarantees I’m going to be right about everything from now on,” said Verity.
“Not all the while you’re living under my roof,” said Faith, smiling. “I got here first. Now, come and try on this dress.”
“You’ve finished the alterations?”
“I think so. I just want one last fitting to make sure, and promise me you won’t get any bigger between now and Tuesday.”
“Pretty sure I can manage that,” said Verity, following her mother up the stairs.
“Charity,” Faith called, as they reached the landing. “Do you want to come and see Verity’s dress?”
“I’ll see it on Tuesday,” said Charity, loudly enough for them to hear her from behind the closed box room door.
“Do you think she’s okay?” Faith asked as they stepped into her bedroom.
“I just had a chat with Pa about her,” said Verity. “Yeah. It’s hard for her, but I think she’s doing okay. She’s been texting someone quite a lot the past few months.”
“A boy?” asked Faith.
“Yes, Mum, a boy. It’s not a bad thing, you know.”
“I never said it was. The little bastard had just better not die before this is all over.”
“Mum!” said Verity.
“Sorry, but we all know that a lot of people are dying. I don’t want Charity to have to grieve her first love. I know she’s almost eighteen, and I know that the Deluge has forced her to grow up and face reality… This is just one reality I don’t want her to face yet.”
Verity put her arms around her mother. “It’s all right, Mum,” she said.
Faith brushed tears from her cheeks, and pulled herself together.
“Right. Get that dress on, and let’s see how you look in it. I got the veil out of its box, too, if you want it.”
“Thanks, Mum. I don’t think I want to cover my face. I want to be right there when this wedding happens. I want to experience every moment of it, face-to-face with Sage, and with you lot, too.”
“Good choice,” said Faith. “Besides, it might be a little over the top for a Deluge wedding.”
“My Deluge shot-gun wedding,” said Verity, smiling. “That’s going to be a tale to tell the baby.”
Faith smiled back.
“I’m going to be a terrible mother, aren’t I, Mum?”
“You’re going to be the best. Anyway, it doesn’t matter how hard you try, you can’t keep your own truth from your kids. They see right through you.”
Thirty
+He’s gone, Chaz+
+Oh, Abe, I’m so sorry+
+No… It’s okay. It was calm in the end, easy. He told me he loved me, and then he just wasn’t there any more+
+Still… I’m sorry+
+He looks like he’s asleep… Do you think I should cover his face or something?+
+Do you want to?+
+No… He just looks like he’s a sleep. If I do, he’ll really be dead+
+If you don’t want to cover him, you shouldn’t+
+I want to sit with him for a bit+
+Do you want me to go?+
+No, stay with me… Can you stay with me, Chaz?+
+I’m right here+
+Should I let them know, so they can pick him up?+
+Do you want to?+
+I just want to sit with him for a while+
+Do that, then. You can let them know when you’re ready. It won’t make any difference+
Charity hoped that she was saying the right things. It was sad, but talking to Able felt natural at least.
+Do you think?+
+Yes. Sit with him for a while+
+Stay here, though, Charity… Don’t leave me alone+
+I won’t… I’m right here+
Charity sat in silence, waiting for another text from Able. She thought that she could imagine him, sitting at his father’s bedside. She could see him clearly in her mind, as the boy she’d been at school with. She didn’t know what his father’s room looked like, never having even set foot in the house. She didn’t know what the bed was like, or the bed linen. She didn’t know if the room was carpeted, or whether the curtains were open or closed. She didn’t know what the furniture in the room was like, or how big the room was. She didn’t know whether Able was sitting on the bed with his father, or whether there was a chair he could sit in. She didn’t know whether the door was open or closed, or whether there were any lights on.
Charity thought about all of these things. She wondered whether Able was crying, or whether he was talking to his father. She wondered if the room was silent, or whether Able had left a television or radio on, for the comfort, for the company.
She could picture Abe’s face, but she’d never seen his father.
She thought about what it would be like sitting, watching her own father die, and couldn’t imagine it. She felt more lonely than she had ever felt in her entire life, and she knew that Abe must be feeling infinitely more lonely than she was.
Able had known the end was coming, and they’d been texting, more-or-less nonstop for two days. She knew that he hadn’t slept, and she wondered whether he’d eaten, or if he’d only left his father’s side to take a pee every so often. She hoped he’d at least kept himself hydrated.
She didn’t know anything.
The Deluge had taken so many people. A lot of old people, but younger ones too. Charity hadn’t been close to her grandparents in Leeds but she’d seen how Pa was when they’d died, during the first phase of the pandemic. They were old, and he claimed that it wasn’t a tragedy, but it had made him so insistent that he’d wanted Verity at home with them, and he’d made that happen.
Maybe that’s what grief did. Maybe it made you cling tighter to the people you loved.
Charity loved Able, and Able loved Charity. He had nobody. His mother had left when he was a toddler, and he’d never seen her since. He didn’t know where she was, or whether she was alive. His father had worked hard, often for long hours, so Able had been in a lot of after school clubs and holiday clubs. He was a geek. He loved movies and games, and he was good at school. He even read books, voluntarily. But Charity knew that the man she loved wasn’t a loner… He was just lonely.
He didn’t have to be lonely. He had her.
+I think I’m going to let them know, now+
+If you’re ready, Able. There’s no rush+
+I’m ready. I don’t want to cover his face up, though+
+That’s okay. They’ll do it+
+I’m going to say one last goodbye+
+Yes+
+Then I think I’ll shut his door, and wait downstairs for them+
+That sounds good+
+I don’t want to see him go… He wouldn’t want me to see him go, not like that+
+Of course. Let them do their job+
+He’s gone now, anyway+
+Yes, Able… He’s gone… But I’m still here+
+Wait for me to text you back. I’m going to let them know+
+I’ll be right here. I love you Able+
Tears were streaming down Charity’s face. She would have given anything for Able not to have to go through all of this alone. She kept her line open, so that she’d be there when he needed her. There was nothing else she could do. She didn’t know how long it would be. It might be hours, maybe days… Surely not days! It could be hours. She’d wait for as long as he needed. He’d text when he was ready.
Charity lay down on her bed, in silence. Her mother called up to ask her if she wanted a cup of tea. She shouted that she didn’t. Some time passed, and there was another call for something to eat. She shouted, “No thanks.”
Shortly afterwards, there was a knock at her door.
“I’ve left you a tray on the landing,” said her mother.
“Thanks, Mum,” she called back from behind the closed door. She tried to sound cheerful, because it was only a couple of days until the wedding and she didn’t want to be a killjoy. It was difficult. She was tense and sad, and she couldn’t do anything un
til she heard from Able.
+He’s gone, Chaz. They’ve taken him away+
+Are you okay?+
+I didn’t see him go… He wouldn’t have wanted me to see him go, like that+
+You did the right thing+
+I don’t know how to feel+
+I think that’s normal, Abe. I think it’ll be okay+
+Dad wanted me to live a good life+
+Of course he did+
+He told me so… He knew that I was going to be okay… That I’m immune, now… I think that’s what kept him going+
+Maybe+
+I’ve got to live a good life, Charity, and I want to live it with you+
+I know, Able. You will! You’re clever and funny, and loving. We’ll have a good life together+
+One day+
+Now, Able. We shouldn’t waste time, and you can’t be on your own… We have to have a good life together now+
+It’s what I want, but I can’t ask you to do that, Chaz+
+I asked you+
+It’s dangerous+
+Not for us… We’re immune, remember+
+The guards+
+Do you want me there or not, Able? Because I want to be there+
+More than anything in the world right now+
+Leave it to me… Get some sleep, and eat something, and leave all the rest to me+
+I don’t know, Chaz+
+I know… I know everything now+
Thirty-one
When Dharma returned to her cubicle on Monday she had lots of new internet searches lined up in her head. She was nearing the end of her current work project, and decided to finish it before she took her break.
At half-past-two, Dharma sent her report to head office and switched to her internet connection.
“Statistics: Marriages during the Deluge,” she said.
+Additional data+
“Statistics: Registered marriages 2040 to 2043. Graphic.”
A moment later a graph appeared on Dharma’s screen. It was a simple diagram, showing number of marriages on the y axis and quarters of the years on the x axis. The graph showed a line that wove its way steadily upwards before dropping off slightly, early in 2043, and then plateauing, still at a higher than average rate, for the remainder of the year.