Winter Smith (Book 1): London's Burning (18 page)

              “I stopped Violet from going to college and doing an art course, because I couldn’t look after the boys alone. We argued for weeks. She insisted we could get carers in, but I selfishly said that I was not being cared for by some woman drafted off the street! So we came to a compromise. Violet would take care of me, while carers popped over for an hour every day of the week.

              “But Violet has never forgiven me for that. She’s a talented girl with a paintbrush, and she could sell her artwork for millions, but I refuse to let her go for it. She would have to use money to get there, money we don’t have, for the risk of getting no money back. It’s not worth it.”

              Winter placed a hand on Ashley’s, and was glad when Ashley took it. Neither of them looked at each other, but Winter was there to listen.

              “Have you told Violet this?”

              “Of course not,” Ashley said. “It would only cause more arguments, and my days are numbered. I want to see my children happy for the last few weeks I have left on earth. I’ve seen them sad too many times now.”

              Ashley looked over at the double bed next to the TV, where sheets lay in a heap.

              “Those boys need a life, and I will make sure they get it. With me gone, they can be adopted to a family, something Violet never had and something the boys need. I hope they’re adopted to a rich family, or one that is doing well, and if that happens they can get the care and love they need.”

              “Ashley, Violet wouldn’t be helping this family the way she is if she didn’t love you. She wouldn’t be helping if she thought life could be better for everyone.”

              Ashley nodded. “I know that, Winter. But she will never think of me fondly. I’ve always been selfish. I became a nuisance. I’ve never been a mother to be proud of.”

              “That’s not true.”

              “You don’t know half of the stuff I’ve put this family through. And I hope you never will. I don’t want you to think me a bitch.”

              “I don’t think it’ll come to that.” Winter smiled.

              There was silence for a while. It looked like Ashley was drifting off to sleep. Her eyes were weighing down, only to flicker open in protest again. The sounds of the busy street behind the apartment block sounded like it was inside the room.

              “Winter,” Ashley whispered. “Promise me you will look after Violet. Promise me you will make sure she gets out of London alive, that she will get to safety, and that she’ll find a job she wants to do and she’ll go ahead with her art degree.”

              “I’ll make sure that happens,” Winter promised.

              “She’s a lovely girl. She doesn’t deserve the shit she gets.”

              A car horn beeped outside. Winter heard footsteps heading up the stairs in the hallway, but they faded away to distant sounds a few moments later. She wondered where Connor was now, if he was alive, if he had been caught up anywhere or had got what he needed and was making his way back.

              As if Ashley had read Winter’s mind, she spoke again.

              “Where’s the boy who was here with you?” She asked. “Not one of Violet’s clients is he?”

              Winter was quick to dismiss this idea.

              “He’s actually someone I met,” she said, and Ashley gave her a look that said she had seen it all before. “He’s not really a boyfriend. It was our first date the night we got attacked.”

              “One you’ll remember when you come to have kids.” Ashley winked.

              “No, no, I don’t think it’ll go that far,” Winter laughed. “He’s nice, but you can’t really have a relationship when all of this is going on.”

              “So where is he?”

              “He left to get weapons,” Winter said, her voice barely audible. “He said he would be back for the coach we’re leaving on.”

              Ashley looked at her. “I know you’re not leaving after us, Winter. Just don’t leave anyone behind, okay?”

              “We won’t.”

              “Where are your parents?” Ashley asked softly.

              Winter bit her lip. She suppressed her guilt, the overwhelming sense of hopelessness that engulfed her at those few simple words.

              “I don’t know. I didn’t see them at my house when everything was going on. There were too many people around, too much wreckage. I found Connor, and I was so relieved to have found
someone
that I just left with him. I thought, my parents had each other, they were bound to escape it.”

              Winter wiped the tears from her eyes before they could fall. She could feel Ashley’s eyes on her, but she refused to meet them.

              “But then I think, there were so many people, so much socialising to do, what if they were apart? What if they didn’t find each other? What if they stayed looking for me?”

              Ashley’s hand tightened on Winter’s. Winter turned to see Ashley was looking at her with sorrow.

              “Don’t feel guilty about such a thing,” Ashley said. “You can’t save everybody, can you? Your parents were smart people, I know it, and I know they would have realised you had gone on, and they could leave.”

              “I need closure,” Winter broke the eye contact with Ashley. She wondered why she was telling her everything, when they were so different. “I just need them to show me, somehow, that they’re alive. Or I need a message from someone else, telling me they’re dead.”

              “That’s going to be pretty hard to do, don’t you think? I’m betting communication will fail on us next.”

              “You think so?”

              “Electricity isn’t going to be run if the UK is under lockdown,” Ashley reminded. “Everything will be rationed. People won’t pay their bills for gas, electricity, mobile phones, so they’ll be cut off, but by who, that’s another question. When one thing goes, it affects something else.”

              Winter had left her mobile phone at the party, something she regretted. She wondered what her house would look like now. She imagined the stylish white steps now stained with blood and spilled alcohol. She imagined the designer furniture was ripped and blood stained, and the dead still wandered their new home.

              “You’ve been through some shit yourself, haven’t you?” Ashley remarked. Winter looked at her. “I’ve read the newspapers, and the magazines. We envy you, here in this building. I was surprised Violet took to you.”

              “I never enjoyed it, living with my parents. I never loved the constant attention we received.”

              “Ah, I don’t think many do enjoy it, do they? It’s all glamour in the magazines, but in real life it must be horrible.”

              “It is. They hated me, because I tried to rebel against it. I tried to distant myself from it, but they never let me.”

              “Especially what happened at your grandfathers’.”

              Winter glanced at her, and saw that Ashley was looking up at the ceiling. If Ashley knew what had happened, that meant Violet must have known. Winter hoped she would never mention it. She hoped Ashley could sense that Winter wasn’t interested in talking about this subject.

              “Fourteen years of age,” Ashley muttered. “That must have really fucked you up.”

              Winter closed her eyes and counted to five, trying to calm herself down and forget about her fourteenth year, and the year that followed.

              Just then, the sound of the front door opening halted the conversation. Winter, for one fleeting moment, hoped it was Connor. But then she heard Ben and Ryan squabbling over something and felt a little deflated.

              The boys walked in, running to their mother.

              “Ben has my toy!” Ryan wailed. “I chose that car!”

              “This is mine, mummy,” Ben explained, eager to have his mother on his side. “Ryan has his own toys!”

              Violet walked in, looking flustered, carrying bags of shopping. She dropped them and pulled the boys away from Ashley, snatching the car out of Ryan’s hand who looked like he was about to cry.

              “If neither of you can share, this car is going right out of the window, where it will be flattened by another car!” Violet shouted. The boys were silent. “Are you going to share?”

              The boys nodded. Violet handed the car back over, and the boys jumped onto their bed, where they began pulling out toys to throw around and use in a new adventure they created.

              “How’s it been going?” Violet asked Winter. Ashley was now fast asleep.

              “It’s been fine.” Winter nodded. She hoped Violet couldn’t see that she had been crying. “She’s so happy she can go tonight.”

              “Thanks for looking after her, Winter,” Violet said, placing a hand on Winter’s arm. “That food is mainly for us. I thought we needed it.”

              Winter felt hungry now. She tried not to appear too eager.

              “Listen, I want you to go out tonight, okay?” Violet asked. “I want you to have some time to yourself. I know it’s a lot to handle here.”

              “Its fine,” Winter began, but Violet shook her head.

              “Go out, relax, have some fun.” Violet urged.

              “First, though, I want food.” Winter grinned.

              After their serving of chicken nuggets and chips, something Violet prided herself on, they got a phone call. Violet answered, and spoke only a few words before hanging up.

              It had been the evacuation squad, ringing to confirm that the pickup tonight was still okay.

              “They’re coming at ten,” Violet said to Winter, keeping her voice quiet from her mother. “Could you be here then?”

              “I don’t have to go out if you don’t want me to,” Winter said. She wasn’t excited to walk the streets of Borehamwood in a ruined, blood splattered, designer dress. She felt like she would be judged countless times.

              “Go out, have a beer, hell, get wasted. You deserve it.”

              The carers came and went, only cleaning Ashley and making sure she had some food. They mainly just chatted with themselves, laughing about god knows what and pretending to be sincerely worried when it came to the zombie outbreak.

              By ten to seven, the news reported that America was now home to the zombies, and they had managed to evacuate only seven thousand Americans. The news did urge, however, that there could still be Americans alive somewhere, possibly still in the country or half way to safety. It was likely they would never know.

              Winter felt sad that America had gone, Russia close behind. Such proud countries were now nothing more than bloodbaths, wreckages, and homes to the dead. She wondered how many other countries were like that, hushed up by the government to increase morale.

              At seven, Winter left Violet’s. She walked down the cold steps, her feet echoing off the ground and was pleased when she found herself in the cosy, albeit run down area of reception. The same woman was there; sat in the same chair almost as if she hadn’t moved since the night she arrived.

              She stood up, chewing gum repetitively, walking towards the door to let Winter out.

              “Fucked up world, ain’t it?” She asked.

              Winter just nodded, aware that the woman was eyeing the blood-splattered dress.

              Winter walked slowly away from the flat of apartments, listening to any sounds that sounded threatening. It was hard to tell, being in the area, what would threaten to hurt her and what wouldn’t.

              Feeling self conscious, she walked with her head down, passing a man in baggy tracksuit bottoms, a white fleece and holding a can of cider.

              “Alright love?” He asked, smiling at Winter.

              “Yes, fine,” she squeaked. She sped up; worried she had made a complete fool of herself.

              She had no idea where she was going, really. The street was busy by day, but quiet at night. A run down highway of forgotten shops, the lone burnt out bin, alleyways full of rat infested rubbish and cars parked on the pavements. Some front doors led right out to the high street; others were tucked away very slightly.

              She turned down a corner, not really sure where she was going or what she was looking for. She just wanted somewhere warm, somewhere she could relax.

              Sat on a set of steps just a few feet away were a group of boys. They were dressed to today’s fashion, but they looked like troublemakers. As Winter walked towards them, averting her eyes at all costs, she could see they were gearing up to call out to her.

              “Oi, love, been on your period have you?” One boy asked, the ringleader.

              The other boys snickered, except one in the back. His hair was copper brown, a fringe sweeping over one of his eyes. The other boys had hair slicked back, spiked up or styled to be windswept, all of them looking at the ringer leader, a cocky boy, with admiration.