“No.” Harry didn’t say anything else. Once he’d been a positive, upbeat person, but now he wasn’t – and that was that. The death of his wife, Julie, and his son, Toby, had left a charred, sucking wound where his heart had once been. He missed them and there was nothing else. It was as much as he was willing to think about it. If he thought about it any further than that, he would end up thinking about what he did one year ago. And about how he got the star-shaped scar.
Steph must have understood the feelings that her question provoked in him and changed the subject. She knew Harry had lost loved ones, but possessed none of the details of when or how it happened. Harry did not share that with anybody. It was locked up inside of him and the key was broken, and lost.
“Hey, Graham?” Steph shouted suddenly.
The old man was sat on the floor by the fire and flinched. “What?”
“Can you go upstairs to your flat and get some blankets and stuff.”
The old man nodded. “Good idea.”
Whilst Old Graham tottered over towards the bar on his way to the stairs behind, Nigel shifted along the floor and filled his place nearer the fire. The man’s greasy face turned in Steph and Harry’s direction and spoke. “Is it ok for me to bed down here tonight, Steph? I’m parked round the back, but I don’t fancy a night in the lorry.”
Steph shrugged. “Can’t exactly see you out on the street now can I?”
Nigel’s face lit up. “Thanks Steph.”
Damien piped up from the opposite side of the fire. “So you live in a lorry then?”
Nigel nodded. “Sometimes, I do. Travel Europe most the time so what’s the point in paying rent? I book a hotel when I fancy a soft bed and a warm bath, but most nights the driver’s cabin suits me fine enough. Never did much like being tied down to one place.”
Harry wondered what that must be like. Such freedom to be able to lay your hat anyway in Europe and call it home for the night. Part of him yearned to disappear like that, to become a wandering nomad: a man with no emotional ties. Yet, for some reason, it just felt unnatural. A man without a home, without a family, wasn’t really a man, was he? It didn’t seem right not to yearn for those things. He wondered what had led Nigel to live such an isolated life.
Damien sniggered. “So, you’re basically one step up from a homeless person, huh, Nigel?”
Nigel shrugged. “Aside from the fact that I have a well-paid job and get to see most of the continent in any given year.”
“Where have you been recently?” Steph asked.
“Well, I was in France last, but that was on my way back from Amsterdam, and Copenhagen before that.”
“Am-ster-dam.” Damien said the word slowly as though he enjoyed the feel of it on his tongue. “I’ve been there, big man. Next time you go, say hello to Cindy Suckalump. She’ll give you a discount if you mention my name.”
“Don’t be so crude,” said Steph. “I’m sure Nigel doesn’t know what on earth you mean.” The attention of the group suddenly turned to Nigel who was looking away sheepishly. “Oh my!” said Steph finally, realising that Nigel was just a man like any other.
Damien let out a raucous laugh. “Oh, he knows. Look at his face.”
Nigel seemed embarrassed but was smiling nonetheless, like a ten-year old boy caught with his father’s porno magazines. Harry leant forward and was about to speak, but was interrupted by a voice behind him.
Old Graham was holding something in the air triumphantly. “Got the blankets, folks. Brought me something else too.”
“And what would that be?” asked Lucas, returning from the toilets and tucking his shirt back into his trousers.
“I think we need to know what the hell is going on tonight,” Old Graham explained, “so I brought down me old radio.”
Harry slapped his hands together and congratulated the old man. “Excellent,” he said.
Now maybe we can find out just what the hell is going on with this weather and when the power will be back on.
Deep down, Harry wasn’t so sure he wanted to know.
Chapter Eleven
“What’s the plan?” asked Ben. His body had transitioned from shivering to full-blown quaking now. It felt as if the very air were made of ice. “We need to get out of here soon. I’m freezing”
Jerry nodded agreement, his face lit by one of the dusty candles that Ben had found in the bottom drawer of a backroom filing cabinet. His arm was still around Jess’ waist; she didn’t seem to mind currently, but Ben suspected that if she’d not had a fright earlier her need for personal space may have been greater.
“Guess we should grab the beers from the office and try to make it back to yours,” Jerry said, shrugging his arms.
Nice try, thought Ben. He was fully aware of his friend’s lame attempts to create a social situation in which he could get Jess drunk, but he wasn’t about to play along. “Leave the beers behind, okay? They’ll only slow us down. Let’s get Jess home, then we’ll go back and crash at mine. I’ve got to be back here tomorrow morning so no parties.”
Jerry’s face sagged and his lower lip drooped like a mackerel’s. “Well, it would only be polite to invite Jess back as well. She may want company after the night she’s had.”
The two boys turned their attention to Jess and the girl began to fluster. “Well,” she said. “I should… you know… really get back to my mum and dad. They’ll worry otherwise. Another time though, yeah?”
Ben smiled as Jerry did the opposite.
Like I said, nice try.
“I think that’s sensible,” said Ben. “Where is it you live, Jess?"
“Birmingham Road, just past Mappleborough Green. You know it?”
Ben nodded. “Yeah, it’s on our way. I live just past it.”
Jess pulled away from Jerry’s grasping arm and clapped her hands together. “Great. We should probably get going then.”
In agreement, the three of them gathered their things and prepared to get going. Ben got the store’s keys from the shelf below the counter and locked the rear fire exit. Then they made their way to the front entrance. Ben would be unable to set the store’s alarm, but seeing as it was freezing, half-ten at night, and nobody’s mobile phone worked, he was pretty sure his father would let him off this one time.
Pretty sure…
“Wrap up warm,” Ben advised everyone as he ushered them out, pulling closed the thick glass fire-door behind them. He inserted the key in the lock and turned it, before pulling it out again and placing it back in his jean pocket. “Ready?” he asked.
Jess and Jerry nodded.
They made their way forward into the snowfield that had been a public footpath only yesterday. It now seemed more like arctic tundra than a paved urban area. The wind continued to pick up plumes of snow that gathered on the air in wispy spirals. Ben had no hood on his jacket; he had to cover his face with a hand in order to keep the airborne snowflakes out of his nose and mouth. At the same time, his booted feet were getting numb as he kicked and heaved through the thick slush.
“I can’t believe how bad it’s gotten,’ Ben commented.
Jess replied. “I know. It’s scary! The snow was bad last year too, but this is like the end of the world or something.”
Jerry’s expression lit up. “Like The Day after Tomorrow. I totally said that earlier.”
Jess sniffed, then said, “I wasn’t being literal, but, as I recall, humanity survived in that one, didn’t they?”
Ben laughed. “She’s got you there!”
“Yeah, well, it was the end of the world for the two thirds of the population that didn’t make it. Try telling them that humanity as a whole would make it.”