‘Oh dear,’ said Anne, ‘and now you are off too?’ It was a subtle probe but not unfriendly.
‘The government has set up settlement camps, we’re going to the one in the Chilterns so Frank can join up with his family,’ I said.
‘And you?’ she asked, ‘do you have family there?’
I thought of Vik and mum, wondered if they were ok, had something bad happened to them? Had they caught the virus or crypto from contaminated water? Were they even still alive?
‘I don’t know where they are, hopefully they will find me.’
Frank coughed politely, ‘I think we really must be going, thank you so much for your time.’ I gave one last look at the stained glass window and then we turned and headed out. I had a lot to think about; if these people could function well as a community, then there would be others doing so as well. Maybe we didn’t need to stay at the settlement camp, if it didn’t work out then at least I would have options.
We walked up the Croxley Green road in silence; ‘Perhaps…’ I began speculatively ‘if we hadn’t had the knockers…’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Frank, following my train of thought easily after so much time together, ‘we were too spread out and most people didn’t know more than their immediate neighbours.’
I wasn’t so sure, Carpenders Park had only five or six entrances; if we had worked together, we could have barricaded them and shared resources. Maybe if we had looked after each other, it wouldn’t just be me and Frank, walking to the settlement camp.
Chapter 11: Attacks
At the top of the green, we took the country lane to the west. It was narrow, with high hedges and after ten minutes, houses began to appear. We walked through, staring at the enormous detached houses. It was deserted and somewhat bleak; a reminder that even the wealthiest hadn’t been immune from the virus and it’s fallout.
The road turned northward and ambled alongside a wood before reaching a T junction. Out to the left were green fields, falling away into the distance, in front of us, a field sloping upward and to the right, a row of red houses. We needed to keep heading north but up ahead was the M25. There were a couple of options, at the red houses we could turn onto a footpath that would take us over a footbridge, or we could continue east on the road and use the much wider crossing further along.
We had debated heavily when we planned the route, Frank was in favour of the car crossing as it was wider. I preferred the footbridge as I felt it would have been less used and less likely to be blocked. We had agreed to postpone the decision until we arrived at the red houses. Now we were here; red brick houses on the right, and on the left was an old flint cottage, it looked very picturesque in the winter sun, but as we paused, debating whether to take the path, dogs began barking from behind us.
We looked at each other and then began to run. Not far, not even a hundred meters, just down past the cottage and up to the hedge to the field. But as we ducked behind the hedge, Frank began to make a weird groaning noise.
‘Frank!’ I grabbed his arm, shocked at his appearance. He looked grey and there was sweat beading on his forehead. His eyes were closed and his right hand was clutching his left arm. He sank to the ground behind the hedge and began scrabbling in his pockets. ‘Frank, what do you need?’
‘Spray bottle,’ he mumbled. His face scrunched in pain as I quickly searched his jacket pockets. Finally I found it. He took a puff, his hand shaking and falling quickly to the floor. I grabbed the bottle before it rolled away.
Oh god, what had happened? ‘What can I do, Frank?’ he shook his head and just sat. We waited together and after five minutes he suddenly pulled himself upright a bit more and shook his head. ‘Sorry Zoe, my heart isn’t as good as it was,’ he said, in a voice that was almost normal.
‘Do you have some pills or something?’ I asked, ‘statins or aspirin?’
‘I had all sorts, but I’ve been running low for a while,’ he replied.
‘Oh Frank, why didn’t you tell me, I could have looked out for some.’
Frank gave me a slow look ‘I looked, everywhere. I found lots. I had enough for the entire winter.’ he paused for a couple of deep breaths, ‘I filled it out on the form and the camp has stocks of all the pills I need, plus they have a doctor and can transfer me to a hospital if need be.’
Why hadn’t he told me? And then I remembered our long conversations where I had determinedly argued against leaving. I suppose he had been trying to tell me, in his own way. I kicked myself; I had delayed for no good reason, if we had left a couple of weeks earlier we would be there already. I had probably caused untold damage to Frank’s heart. I was a science teacher; I knew that a heart attack resulted in heart muscle tissue dying from lack of blood and oxygen.
The dogs had stopped barking and we stayed there a good long while, drinking hot chocolate and eating our mid-morning snack. I debated what to do; should I leave Frank and go alone to get help? Should I go back to the church at Croxley green? We had come more than halfway and had less than five miles to go. We had all day; we could do it very slowly, half a mile then rest, then continue.
I looked at Franks backpack; He wouldn’t be able to carry it, and there was too much for me to put it all in mine. ‘Frank,’ I said, ‘How about I set off with your backpack, take it up to the footbridge, and then come back for you?’
Frank nodded tiredly, I could walk a leg with his backpack, stash it, walk back, collect him and my pack, then when we got to the next stop he could rest whilst I moved the backpack to the next place on the map. It would mean I would have to do each leg three times; tripling my distance, but all the cycling and gardening seemed to have made me much fitter.
It was a slog; I would go to the edge of the next field, drop the pack, trudge back to Frank, and then set of again. We took plenty of breaks and Frank didn’t look any worse, but it took us almost five hours. I had been tempted by all the cars at the pub we passed near Sarratt but as I hadn’t a clue how to start a car without the key, it seemed easier to just keep going.
We were too tired for anything to go wrong; too tired to stop and check for people at the little hamlets we passed. There was a horrible uphill slog by some woods near the end and then the last road seemed to go on forever, between hedgerows and houses. We almost missed the nursery when we got there; it wasn’t a garden centre at all but a massive trade nursery behind some houses. I was almost tempted to stay anyway but even in my state, I could see the flickering lights of a TV from the front room of the main house. There were very definitely people here.
We stumbled further down the road, but it was all large detached houses and the open green of the village. Eventually we found a thick hedge and pushed our way into a garden. I set up the tent whilst Frank brewed some tea; I was desperate for a strong coffee but couldn’t risk the smell. I blew up my thermarest and got Frank to lie down in the tent, whilst I scouted around.
The house was empty. It joined with the building next door that looked like it might once have been grand old stables but had been modernized recently. The whole plot was almost entirely surrounded by tall brick walls, some very old, the rest recently built. There were also sumptuous new-build houses at the back of the plot, and I could see a swimming pool and Jacuzzi through the French windows of the largest building. Unlike elsewhere, these houses were locked up tight. I was loath to break in, but we needed running water. In the end, I resorted to prying open the French doors that led to the swimming pool, and as I was there, I turned on the Jacuzzi. To my surprise it worked.