Interrupted Journey

Chapter 1 - Pizza

I knew at once that something had gone badly wrong.

The lights in the restaurant flared briefly then we were plunged into semi-darkness. There was the smell of burning electronics. I'm a electronic engineer and I recognise that ozone smell.

But this was the first time I'd ever experienced all the electronics in a room burning out at the same time.

The background noise changed too. We're continuously immersed in a sea of noise: other peoples' music; the gentle hum of transformers; and the rumble of traffic. You only notice it when it's gone. For a brief moment there was silence but this was brought to an abrupt end by the crunch of colliding cars on the street outside.

My fourteen-year-old son, James, was staring at me through a curtain of hair, still holding a slice of pizza which was starting to droop in his hand. "She was right," I said in a quiet voice, not really believing it myself. "It's happened."

It was supposed to be a simple shopping trip. Seven-year-old Elizabeth was at a sleepover with her friend Amy, so James and I had taken the chance to visit our favourite outdoor shop in Amberford. James needed new boots and I was looking for a couple of things for our upcoming camping trip. Though it was thirty miles from home, it was owned by Mike, an old army friend of Mary's, who was James's godfather. Not only did we receive substantial discounts and personal attention from the shop owner, it was a great chance to keep in touch.

After finishing our shopping, we had driven on to the climbing centre that I used to use when I lived in the area. It was frightening how out of practice I had become and watching my son scoot up the walls had made me feel quite old.

James and I were enjoying a late lunch together when the lights went out.

"What's happening?" he asked.

"Something's cooked all the electronics," I answered, checking my phone. It was completely dead. He took out his own phone and started prodding at the screen.

"It's the sort of thing your mum was preparing for," I explained to him in a low voice.

"She was preparing in case our phones packed up?" James asked.

"Not just the phones," I explained, lowering my voice and leaning towards him. "It looks as if the electronics in the cars out there is fried too." I nodded at the unmoving cars and busses in the road behind him. "Lorries too... food delivery lorries... and the electronics that run the water... and gas... and what about the police radios?"

James was quiet for a long time as he started to understand what I was talking about. "What about Lizzie?" he asked at last.

"She should be OK for a while," I answered with more confidence than I felt. "Amy's parents will look after her. We'll just have to get back there as quickly as we can."

"But you said the car won't work," he said, his voice rising in worry. "How are we going to get home?"

"Keep it down, mate," I said. "We don't want to start a panic. Give me a minute."

I fought my own instincts to hurry back to our car and instead forced myself to think.

For Mary's sake, I had gone through the motions of preparing for the end of the world. Even if you didn't believe in all that 'the end is nigh' stuff, a lot of it made sense: keeping a stock of food at home and buying in bulk meant better prices and less time wasted in supermarkets; her home grown vegetables always tasted better than the shop bought ones; and the Land-Rover was the right vehicle for visiting her parents up on their farm. Even after her death, I'd carried on, though I was nothing like as rigorous as she had been.