The plan worked like a dream. The bramble stems were extraordinarily long: four meters at least. They had obviously been growing a while. They were incredibly difficult to dig up, and eventually I took the garden saw to the thick taproot. I just hoped there were enough smaller roots to keep it alive. I planted them at the base of the wall, tied to a stake, and trailed them up over one side of the door frame, and then wound them round the slats of the door before tying them to the other side. With the plants in front, the overall effect was one of natural chaos. It looked like the brambles were escaping the garden, but it also meant that anyone trying to break in the door, would also have to break all the bramble stems.
I stood back from the door and looked at it. Was it a bit over the top? Did I really need to be so paranoid? The knockers were a little worrying, but, apart from work, life was carrying on as normal. Nevertheless, it didn’t hurt to be prepared. Who knew what might happen over the next couple of weeks.
Chapter 4: Travel
During the early hours of Saturday morning, the weather finally broke and I woke up to a drenched garden and the news that, starting that afternoon, there would be rolling power outages.
The article on the BBC listed when the power would be out for each area. Mine was due to go off mid-afternoon. I put my phone on charge and then looked at the fridge. Both my fridge and freezer were tiny. The fridge was mostly empty; no milk or yogurt left, although there was some butter and Flora margarine. There were also opened jars of jam and marmalade, a load of sauce bottles, and the Baby Bel cheeses I had bought at Tesco.
I took some plastic take-away containers, filled them with water, and put them in the freezer. I gave the fridge a thorough clean and stacked the remaining items neatly near the bottom. When the ice packs were ready, I would put them on the top shelf. They would cool the air, which would hopefully drop down and form a cold layer over the food.
The freezer was also mostly empty. Just some packets of frozen veg that I hadn’t got around to using up. I took out some cauliflower for lunch and crossed my fingers for the rest. Cleaning up the fridge and freezer set me off on a cleaning binge that lasted the whole morning. I sorted through all my food stocks, moving some up to the loft and bringing the sardines down. The crisis seemed to be ongoing, and my strategy of ‘stay in, hide, and wait’ was not a long-term solution. I had been expecting the government to provide emergency food supplies, but that didn’t seem to be happening. The electricity supply was now intermittent; maybe things weren’t going to go back to normal. I had think seriously about the food I was growing. I went to open a spreadsheet on my computer, and realised that 2pm had passed; the electricity was now off. I picked up a pen and went to find a notebook.
It was nearing the end of May, so in a couple of weeks I would start getting the first of the new potatoes, I also had some small carrots, and the onions I had planted in autumn were now a decent size. The peas were looking well, and the beans in the greenhouse could be planted out fairly soon and would crop from mid-summer. The tomatoes would be ripe by the end of august, and the sweetcorn would be ready in September. If I planted the bag of maincrop potatoes now, I should be able to harvest them in early autumn and store them in the shed over winter. As long as they didn’t get damaged by frost, they would be fine. The courgettes of course would start cropping in about ten weeks, and would produce until the frost killed them, which might not be until November. I might not like them, but they were a good bulking vegetable. The apples and pears would be harvestable in autumn and some of the varieties were good for storing until January, as long as I boxed them up carefully.
I looked at the notes I had made, it seemed like I would be ok. If I stayed in my bungalow and kept my garden safe, I should have food to spare through the summer and autumn and if I was careful and stored the produce carefully, I might be ok for winter as well.
Sunday was still too wet to be in the garden, so I began sorting out my clothes; moving my work outfits to the spare bedroom closet, and bringing my summer wardrobe over into my bedroom. With the rain and the net curtains, it was dim and gloomy, and I had turned on a light, thinking that no knockers would be out in the wet. I was happily working away in the front room; when I was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. I paused, was there someone actually at the door?… or was the wireless doorbell playing up again. A series of heavy knocks rattled the door in its frame. I didn’t move, looking at the window and the light; should I switch it off or leave it be? The door banged again and the doorbell rang. I stepped towards the hallway and peered down towards the front door. The letterbox opened and I quickly drew my head back into the room as I heard a voice shouting ‘Oi… I know you’re in there… open the door… please… my kids are starving’ It was a man’s voice, deep and harsh.
What to do? I had food, but I was loath to open my door to a stranger. But the thought of kids going hungry had me hesitantly stepping forwards. Then I heard a second voice; ‘Fucking open the door, bitch.’ The door rattled hard against the frame. ‘We know you’re in there, we’re going to fuck you up if you don’t open this door right now’ I froze in place, heart racing. The door shook violently and then loud banging started on the windows. As I stood paralysed, the noise moved round to the side of the house. I slipped into the hallway and looked into the kitchen; the curtains were closed and I couldn’t see anything behind them, but I could still hear noises. It sounded like they were trying to get through the side gate. I heard swearing again but this time in pain; …the brambles… doing their work. There was the sound of wood splintering and then more swearing. Then the voices grew louder, moved past the kitchen window, and back up of the drive, gradually fading away as I sank into my chair and shook uncontrollable.
I sat for ages, cold inside, listening as hard as I could, but eventually, when I was absolutely certain they were gone, I persuaded myself to get up. It was time for some chocolate. I desperately wanted to phone home, but I knew they would worry, instead I found the superglue and sealed the letterbox shut. Doing something proactive helped immeasurably with the shakiness I was feeling. I took the spare duvet and stuffed it round the front door to reduce the chance of people hearing me from outside. It was a trick from the prepper website that I had discarded as being over the top, but now I began to prep my house in earnest. I taped the net curtains to the edges of the windowsill and put tape over the light switches so I wouldn’t forget and accidentally switch them on out of habit. I then went online and looked into the security of my UPVC doors.
I was appalled; it looked like the panels could just be kicked in. The internet had helpful suggestions of door bars and grills, but where exactly was I going to get those? I scratched my head for a bit, and then in the interests of security, I sacrificed my shower rail and some solid wood shelves to create a bar across the weakest part of the door. I cut the shelves into two 8 inch squares. Then I cut U shapes into the wood the width of the bar. I drilled holes in the brick walls either side of the front door and screwed the pieces of wood flat against the walls with the opening to the U at the top. The thunderstorm that started on Sunday afternoon helped disguise the drilling and after it was all securely attached I cut the shower rail to size and dropped it into the slots of the wood. I then glued the rest of the shelf to the UPVC panel, building up the layers until the wood was pressed against the bar. If someone tried to kick the panel in, they would be kicking against a metal bar, attached to a brick wall. It took all afternoon but I felt an enormous sense of satisfaction when I finished.