‘We’re back to square one,’ Evan said sourly. ‘No progress at all, is there?’
‘How d’you mean?’
‘We burned down the old school, d’you remember? Couldn’t think of any better way then, either. After all we’ve done, Guy. The risks we’ve taken, you an’ I, getting stuff for those science boffins. Yet we’re still stuck with the old methods despite it all’
In Park Lane the motorcycle gang reappeared out of a side street just north of the Dorchester Hotel. Guy couldn’t swear to it but he had the impression there were fewer of them this time. When they spotted the police car, they swooped on it like seagulls over offal. Those in front flagged Evan down.
‘You still lookin’ for Kath?’ one of them shouted as Guy wound down his window.
‘You’ve found her?’ His heart-beat quickened.
‘Can’t say, like. We’ll take you there. Come on!’
The bikes peeled away and the police car went after them in a crazy chase through the Mayfair streets, with Evan cursing at the wheel as they took short cuts across pavements, slipping down a narrow mews with a sharp, unexpected right turn at the far end, scraping the paint off his sides and losing a fender as he was forced to squeeze between a couple of abandoned lorries to keep up with them.
They pulled up abruptly in front of a computer showroom. ‘In there!’ one shouted — Guy recognised Byron’s voice — ‘Go straight through. There’s a big place at the back.’
Guy didn’t wait to find out if anyone intended to go with him. Holding the shotgun loosely in his right hand, he ran over to the showroom and tried the door; it swung open easily. Micro-computers, printers and VDUs were spaciously set out, but no one had bothered to loot them, of course. What use were they without electricity? He went straight through to the rear doors.
They led him into a wide corridor. From somewhere ahead came the tinny sound of a small radio or cassette player; it told him there was definitely someone in the building. He went on, but cautiously. It was not until he was through the next set of swing doors that he suddenly stopped to listen, realising that he recognised that music.
Surely that was the tune Kath had played him at breakfast one morning while Dorothea was still in bed? The music for her show-piece dance at the ballet school?
Yet it was strange that he could hear nothing else at the same time — no one talking or laughing; no other sound of any kind. Briefly he had the odd sensation of being completely alone there; he could almost visualise himself opening that next door and finding only a large empty room with the cassette player in the centre and no one listening.
He went closer; still only music.
Grasping the handle, he slowly pulled the door back wide enough to look in. It was a long rectangular storeroom. Directly in front of him were several rows of widely spaced-out metal shelves with more computer equipment, but at the most they took up only a quarter of the room. Beyond them on the floor sat twenty or thirty women and children watching two girls dancing in a cleared space at the far end.
Kath and Susi!
A lump came to Guy’s throat as he watched them. This must be the pas de deux they had told him about, and they had found an audience for it among these few deter mined people still hiding in what was left of their city. He could see the cassette recorder now, the small one he’d bought her for her birthday; it stood on the electrician’s workbench behind her.
Feeling himself encumbered by the shotgun, he placed it quietly on a shelf near his elbow. He couldn’t possibly use it with all these people around.
She was a very graceful dancer, he thought; they both were, in fact. Almost inspired — not that he knew anything about ballet. Their faces were radiant as they rose and turned and dipped; they were certainly enjoying every moment of it.
They ended with a deep curtsey and the applause was enthusiastic. He’d wait until it died down, he decided, not wanting to spoil their triumph.
‘Very good! Very good! Kath, come an’ gimme a kiss. I’m proud of you, really I am!’
The woman who had called out was hidden from him by the shelving but Guy knew her voice without needing to see her. A sense of relief washed over him as he realised Dorothea was still alive; it was like lying at the very edge of the sea on one of those hot Cyprus days and letting the waves cool him down, relaxing him.
He started forward, intending to tell them he was there as well, when he was stopped by Kath’s stinging words. She had not yet seen him; her eyes were only on her mother.
‘Mummy, what did you come back for? I told you I don’t want you here. Just go away and leave me alone.’
‘But Kathy, love… Kathy…’ She’d been drinking; her speech was slurred. ‘Where’s my little girl?’
‘Mummy, you’re pathetic.’ Kath was still only eleven, but she spat the words out with all the contempt of a fully grown woman. ‘Will-you-leave-me-alone? Go back to your boy friend!’
‘Kathy!’
The audience laughed and applauded, taking Kath’s side. ‘That’s right, you tell her, the cow!’ one fat woman bawled out, beaming with enjoyment. ‘Give us another dance, love! Encore!’ And the rest joined in, supporting her.
Guy shrank back between the shelves, unsure what he should do. This was something he’d not expected. He longed simply to put his arms around both of them and take them home, but it was too late for that now.
Susi had rewound the tape and the two girls started their dance again. Kath was defiant, every gesture exaggerated, while Dorothea shrank back against the piles of discarded cartons in the comer next to the workbench. She was hurt; he could see it in her face.
Behind him he heard the door opening softly and glanced around to see Evan. He put his finger to his lips, indicating the dancers. It was in that moment — as he turned back, uncertain how he should handle the situation — that he first noticed the giant bloodworm easing its pale segmented body through a partly open window not six feet away from the two girls.
The women and children in the audience began whispering to each other and getting to their feet; one shouted a warning, but not loud enough to be heard above the music.
Guy pushed between them, moving quietly and tugging his respirator over his mouth and nostrils as he went.
By now the bloodworm was almost completely through the opening. Then it seemed to stop for a moment and the whole front end of its body swayed in time with the heavy beat.
There was a gasp of fear as it dropped to the floor where again it began to dance, gradually rearing up to face the girls.
Moving carefully, never taking his eyes off the bloodworm, Guy stepped slowly forward to shield them. From past experience he knew only too well that quick movements were the most dangerous. His spray was ready in his hand, but he could only pray it would be effective against a bloodworm of this size.
‘Walk slowly now, Kath. And you, Susi. Back to the others,’ he shouted through his mask.
He had reckoned without Dorothea. With a sudden yell of anguish she charged forward, shoving him aside, desperate to protect her daughter by drawing the bloodworm’s attention to herself.
‘Take me, you bugger! My life’s useless anyway!’ she shrieked, facing up to it.
With hard black eyes the giant bloodworm stared down at her while black spittle dripped from its open mouth. It drew back, just slightly, preparing to strike, but Guy was faster. Squeezing the trigger on his spray bottle, he let it have a Song burst of ethyl acetate at point-blank range.