Interrupted Journey

Chapter 2 - London

Andrew had been at home with the boys when the power had failed. At first it had only been an annoyance, with the boys quickly starting to bicker when their phones and electronic toys had stopped working. As much to give them something to do, he had got them to help him with a list of chores that he vaguely remembered Mary suggesting: turn off the gas and electric; fill the bath and empty bottles with water and hunt for the candles and matches. He even found their old camping stove which, surprisingly enough, still had a half bottle of gas from their occasional camping trip years before.

Elizabeth had been out shopping and had only made it home a couple of hours later after a long walk. She was tired and fed up and was slightly annoyed by his 'end of the world stuff'. She had even threatened to let the water out of the bath and only relented when she saw how serious Andrew was.

"Think of it as an insurance policy," he told her. "Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, you're going to be right and I'll end up looking silly. The hundredth time, though..."

On that first afternoon there had been something of a carnival atmosphere in the small close where they lived and they had been invited to a big communal barbecue where people were going to cook the steaks and burgers from their freezers. Elizabeth was about to check her own freezer but something about Andrew's concerned tone struck a chord. She decided to keep it closed for now - the food in there should be fine for another day or so. Instead she had made a couple of nice salads from the contents of her fridge. To cover up for her tightfistedness, she had told Andrew to go and collect a case of his craft beer from the garage

There was a strange, slightly surreal atmosphere at the barbecue party and, as time went by and there was no sign of any restoration of power, Elizabeth found herself wondering whether, perhaps, Andrew's concerns were not completely unfounded.

The party broke up quite early as people were driven home by the lack of light and the early spring chill. After packing the boys to bed in their darkened rooms - it was still early but there wasn't enough light to do anything - they gathered by their bedroom window and looked out over the black and curiously quiet city. Elizabeth was still holding a glass of red wine and sipped it thoughtfully.

"This is really serious, isn't it?" she said, hoping he might have found some reason to believe that it wasn't true.

But Andrew couldn't give her any comfort. "I've not seen a plane since it happened," he answered. "Even if power was out all over London we should have seen something by now."

They were quiet for a long time, staring out into the eerie night.

"I'm frightened," Elizabeth said at last. "What are we going to do if things don't sort themselves out?"

"We've got to go to the farm."

"But we've no car!"

"We're going to have to walk."

They hoped that things would be back to normal the next morning but didn't even have to open their eyes to know that everything had changed. The sound of the city was different. You could hear birdsong that would normally be drowned out by the noise of traffic. Under other circumstances it would be idyllic.

The calm scene was broken by the sound of raised voices from the close below. Andrew threw on some clothes and went down to find out what was going on.

He returned a few minutes later with a long face. There were credible reports of wide scale home invasions, theft and even worse nearer the centre of town and people were beginning to feel uneasy. Fortunately, they lived in a 'nice' suburb, to the West of London. For now, they were safe from the threats they knew were going to be coming from the 'bad' estates closer to the center of the city.

The quiet of the house was torn apart by furious shouting from the boys. With a sigh, Andrew went to see what was going on.

He didn't like what he found. The water had stopped flowing, the toilet had stopped draining and the two boys were blaming each other for it.

"That's enough, now, you two," he said with a quiet authority. "It's time for the big talk. I want you dressed and downstairs in five minutes."

Andrew turned and went downstairs though he was relieved when he heard Elizabeth say, "You two had better do as you're told. Things just got serious."

Five minutes later they were sitting together in the dining room. It was quite a grand room and they rarely ate there except on special occasions.

"Boys," Andrew began, "If we're right, and it's starting to look as if we are, I'm afraid that your childhood ended yesterday. As of today, if we're going to have any chance of surviving, you're going to have to become adults."

They glanced nervously at each other then looked to their mother. "David, Martin, please listen to your father," she said, though it was obviously painful for her. "This is very important."

He then spent five minutes laying out, in as much detail as he thought they could take, what London was likely to look like without any power.

"What are we going to do?" Martin asked. He had gone slightly pale.

"We're going to go to my parents' farm."

"Will they let us stay there?" Martin asked.

"Without a moment's hesitation."

"But they don't even like us," David said.

"That's not true. They don't like... more, don't approve of, really... of the way we live: the big job, big money, big house, big car, big bills... And maybe they're right. Maybe we could have done with something a little bit more solid than this place." He glanced around at the huge mansion around them. It was starting to feel like a mausoleum.

"And they certainly don't approve of the way we spoil you two," Andrew added.

"How are we going to get there?" David asked incredulously. "It's two hundred miles. In case you hadn't noticed, the cars aren't working."

"We're well aware that the cars aren't working. We're going to have to walk. With delays and detours, I guess it will take us about three weeks."

"I'm not walking to the farm," David said flatly.

"Then you can stay here," Andrew told him. "I just said that you were now adults. That entails accepting the consequences of your own actions. If things go downhill as quickly as I expect, you'll be dead within a week."

He looked to his mother but she sat there, stony faced.

"And, David," Andrew added, "if you do come with us, it will be a positive decision and you will be completely committed to making it work. Now, first thing tomorrow, the rest of us are going to the farm. Are you coming with us?"

Again he looked to his mother but this time she refused even to meet his eye so he looked down at the table.

"I guess," he mumbled.

"David Moore!" his mother snapped at him. "You were just told this needs to be a positive decision! Now answer your father properly!"

David was quiet for a moment, more shaken by his mother's reaction than by the news that the world was falling apart. Then he met his father's eye. "Yes, sir," he answered with an unheard of degree of formality. "I will come with you."

"Good," Andrew answered with a smile." There is one other thing. There is every chance that some of us will be killed on this journey. If the two of you make it to the farm, I'll count that as a success. You're going to have to learn how to survive alone, travel alone and find your way there alone."

On that cheerful note, they paused for breakfast.