Chapter 13

On Sunday, Mike and June went round to Jill’s mother’s house about eleven in the morning. David answered the door. He’d lost a lot of weight and looked pale. ‘Come in both of you! Cup of tea?’

‘Please! How are you?’

‘I’m okay, I suppose. But Mum had to go into hospital yesterday evening. She wasn’t so good at all.’

‘Which hospital is she in? We’ll go and see how she is.’

David looked puzzled. ‘Which hospital?’

Mike did a double-take. My God! He doesn’t know about the schools being converted into emergency hospitals. Which means that he doesn’t know that Jill’s at East Park Upper School. Does he know she’s ill at all? Hasn’t his mum told him?

Jesus! does she know?

‘June, have you seen their mum since (quick think) – Thursday? Does she know about Jill?’

‘Christ! I bet she doesn’t. I’ve not told her.’

‘What about Jill, for Pete’s sake?’

‘She’s critically ill in hospital – at East Park Upper School. I took her in last Thursday morning.’

They explained all about the emergency hospitals at all the schools, and a hundred and one other things he’d missed while he was in hospital. He was shocked to hear the scale of the epidemic, and more shocked still when he heard of all the cases, and deaths, that impinged on them personally.

‘I’ve had a close call, it seems. I hope Ade and Jill and Mum pull through.’

‘Are you going to be all right here, on your own...’

‘Mike! You can’t go offering space in Melanie’s flat without asking her first!’

‘I suppose not. But I was thinking that we ought to help look after David. He doesn’t look very strong yet.’

‘Don’t worry about me. If you pop in and let me know how Ade and Mum and Jill are every day I’ll be more than happy. There’s plenty of grub in the house for just one of me.’

He’s putting a brave face on it. But he’s only a kid. And he looks like death warmed up.

‘I’d say we should all stay at the Js’, except that we can’t move Melanie. And of course we can’t move Auntie Alice, either.’

‘Now there’s a thought! I bet Auntie Alice would be as pleased as Punch to have you round there, David. It would do her no end of good to have someone to pamper.’

‘We’d better ask her first, but if she says yes, I’ll come back up here and take you down on the cross-bar. I’ll come back either way and let you know what’s going on.’

‘Whose bike is it, anyway?’

That was another long story.

On the way to Auntie Alice’s, June suddenly said, ‘We ought to go and see Jenny, and the Jordans, you know, sometime.’

‘Mmm.’ June’s very conscious of people’s emotional needs. I’m sure she’s right. It’s good for us, too – keeps us busy – keeps our minds off morbid thoughts. I feel so impotent, unable to do anything constructive. Not even reduce the risks for ourselves, never mind help Jill or anyone else.

Auntie Alice was delighted to have David. Mike went to fetch him, and filled the pannier bags with food to boost Auntie Alice’s larder. Then he set off on his round of the hospitals.

Jill was still critical, and her mum was critical too. Fortunately she was at the hospital itself, and Mike didn’t have to go searching round the neighbouring schools.

June and Mike stayed to lunch with Auntie Alice and David, and then cycled back to Melanie’s. The streets were absolutely deserted. Tony, Melanie and Linda were playing Monopoly and watching the telly.

‘Every channel is showing old films now, with a break every five minutes or so to show you that bloody card. Beeb one broke off for five minutes to show us white coated scientists hard at work in a lab, ‘working on a vaccine’. Not a word about how long it might take to develop a vaccine, or how long it would take to manufacture it in quantity. They didn’t even commit themselves as to whether the agent had been isolated yet.’

‘I think they’re just playing at covering the epidemic. It was just thrown together without any thought at all. The footage could have been shot anywhere. It could easily have been library stuff, years old and nothing to do with it at all really.’

‘We’re thinking of going round to Jenny’s, and to the Jordans. Would you like to come, Linda? They’re likely to be a bit sombre, because they’ve both got death or disease in the family, but they’re nice people and there’s a little boy about your age at the Jordan’s.’

But there wasn’t a little boy at the Jordan’s; he and his mother had both had to go to hospital. Jenny’s little sister Vicky was back at home, but as weak as a kitten and feeling cold all the time, even swathed in blankets in front of a blazing fire.

I bet they’re only guessing who’s infectious and who isn’t. But it would be inhuman to treat her as untouchable, and there’s no evidence at all that she’s more infectious than anyone else. An awful lot of people have picked it up without any contact with the sick.

Except when asked a direct question, Linda scarcely said a word at either house. But cycling from house to house she was very happy. She’d never been so far on her bike before. Even tagging along with two grown-ups she obviously felt an exhilarating sense of freedom.

When they got back to Melanie’s, she told them that Tony had gone round to Andy’s on foot, to see if he could get hold of the photocopies. She was expecting him back any time. Mike cooked a meal for the five of them, and Tony was back just in time to eat with them.

‘The pigs had been there before me. They’d turned the place over really thoroughly. Not a sign of any of his papers. They didn’t care who could tell it’d been done, either.’

‘Not expecting anyone to go looking. Anyway, so far as anyone who didn’t know what was missing is concerned, it could’ve been the clean-up squad.’

‘Not on your life! The clean up squad had scrubbed the floor and sprayed some foul-smelling chemical. The pigs had emptied all his bookcases, files and drawers, all over the freshly scrubbed floor. I’d have thought it was burglars except that they’d left the sort of things burglars might have been after, and I couldn’t find the papers anywhere.’

‘I’d like to talk to Mark – that’s his name isn’t it – about an operation like that. I would imagine it must mean that they’ve already raided the Echo office and found something that they wanted to disappear. It must’ve been quite something for them to go out to Andy’s on the offchance he might have copied it.’

‘I wonder. I bet they’ve not left a mess at the Echo office, even if they’ve been there. Think of the stink when we reopen if they have.’

Mike was beginning to wonder whether it was a case of ‘if the Echo reopens’, but he didn’t say anything. I wonder how many of us are thinking the same things, and not saying anything? The telly is obviously making do with a very thin skeleton staff. Have they been sent home as ‘non-essential workers’ – censorship – or are they all sick? Or dead.

Still – our immediate circle hasn’t suffered any more casualties recently – cross fingers.

But Tony had to get up during the night, several times, with diarrhea. He had no rash, and he wasn’t vomiting, but he felt nauseous and lethargic. In the morning Mike walked down to East Park Middle School with him, wheeling the bike so he could cycle on to ask about all the others.

‘Let’s got to East Park Upper instead, where Jill is. Then you can check on both of us at once.’

‘Don’t be daft, Tony. It’s no hassle for me to go to one extra place. It’s no distance on a bike. But you’re in no fit state to be walking at all, never mind further than you need to.’

In the end, they had to walk to East Park Upper anyway, because they couldn’t raise anyone at East Park Middle. They could hear someone – a child, they thought – coughing inside, but no amount of banging got any response at all.

The volunteer receptionist at East Park Upper appeared to be in a total daze. She directed Tony towards a door along a corridor, and seemed surprised when Mike was still there when she turned round again. She looks as though she’s been on duty for about three days.

‘I wanted to inquire about another patient you’ve got here. Jill Warley. Admitted last Thursday.’

A few moments scanning lists.

‘Last Thursday, you said? She should be on the recovery list by now, or on the critical list. W – A – R – L – E – Y Warley, you said?’

‘That’s right. She’s been critical for a couple of days already.’

A dreadful feeling was going through Mike. He felt nauseous and weak.

The receptionist asked him, ‘You’re sure she hasn’t been discharged?’

She’d wonder where we all were! There’s no-one at her mum’s place, or her place, or my place. She’d be desperate!

She can’t have been discharged.

‘She was still critical yesterday morning, so she can’t have been discharged already, surely?’

‘It’s possible. I’ll check. We’re so desperately crowded we’re sending people home as soon as we possibly can.’

But the dreadful feeling persisted. She’s dead. I know it. The police gave up trying to tell anyone when there was no-one at her place or her mum’s. Jill!

‘She was discharged this morning.’

Mike collapsed.

The next thing he knew, he was lying on his side on the floor with a blanket up to his neck. A man was squatting in front of him looking at him.

‘Back in the land of the living, eh? How do you feel? Like a cup of tea?’

Mike felt chilled to the marrow. He nodded weakly.

‘Sit down, Ruth. I’ll get it. You look as though you could do with one too.’

The man disappeared. Mike started to sit up.

‘Don’t try to get up yet. Just relax for another couple of minutes.’

‘I’m freezing.’

Ruth helped him into an armchair, wrapping the blanket all around him on the way. She sat down on the desk. Mike realized where he was; he was sitting behind the reception desk at East Park Upper. Jill’s been discharged!

‘You did say Jill had been discharged, didn’t you? How is she?’

‘I don’t know. She’s just on the discharge list, that’s all. Dr Wells might remember her, though. Here he is now.’

Dr Wells appeared bearing three steaming mugs.

‘Hugh, do you remember a Jill Warley – that’s the name, isn’t it? This chap came in to ask about her. Sorry, what’s your name?’

‘Mike Shaw. Yes, Jill Warley, that’s right.’

‘Yes, I remember Jill. She’d been unconscious for days, I didn’t think she’d live. But she hung on, and came to last night. This morning she was very perky and insisted I discharge her. I had the devil’s own job persuading her to have an ambulance to go home. You must’ve only just missed her.’

Mike started to disentangle himself from the blanket.

‘I’d better be going then. There’s no-one at her place. She’ll try to walk to her mum’s, and even if she gets there, there’s no-one there either.’

‘You sit down and finish that tea. If you start walking anywhere in the state you’re in, you’ll collapse again, and won’t do her any good at all.’

‘I’ve got a bike outside.’

‘Even worse. Can you drive?’

‘Nope. Couldn’t afford the lessons. Why do you ask?’

‘Never mind. Just a thought.’

‘Goodness! It’s just come to me. I ought to tell you about East Park Middle School. We went round there first, and couldn’t get an answer. There was someone coughing horribly inside, but the door was locked, and there was no answer to all our banging.’

Hugh and Ruth looked at each other, puzzled.

‘I don’t understand that at all. The door was locked, you said? No, I can’t fathom that at all. We’ll send Geoff round to have a look as soon as he gets back.’

‘I really had better go and try to catch Jill in a minute. I feel much better now. But before I go, is there anything I should know about looking after Jill? Is she out of danger?’

‘I think so, but it’s impossible to say, really. We know very little about the disease yet. We can’t even tell who’s got it and who’s got something else, we’ve no lab test for it. Was it you who brought that chap Tony in?’

‘Mmm.’

‘He’s a case in point. For all I can tell, he’s just got good old-fashioned gastro-enteritis. But about Jill: make her rest, keep her warm, and feed her well, fresh fruit and veg if you can get any. I’d give you a chitty for a course of vitamin tablets, but you can’t get any for love nor money at the moment. Here comes Geoff now – he might as well take you to find Jill, I’m not going to discharge anyone in the next hour. You can come back with him for your bike when you’ve got her settled.’

‘But what about picking up patients to come in?’

‘Our phone isn’t working. We couldn’t get an engineer to come and fix it: Geoff went down to the hospital and tried to ring for one, but there was no answer on any of the operator service numbers. They’ve got plenty of drivers down there, so they let Geoff stay here to run people home, and run errands in general.

‘Hello Geoff. Two runs: take this chap and find Jill Warley, that you took home this morning. There’s no-one at her place, or her mother’s apparently, and Mike here is going to take care of her. When she’s sorted out, bring Mike back for his bike, and then nip round to the Middle School and find out what’s going on there. It’s all locked up and no-one’s answering the door, but there’s people inside, Mike could hear someone coughing.’

Mike and Geoff found Jill half-way to her mother’s, sitting on a doorstep having a breather.

She’s lost a lot of weight. In four days! She didn’t have any to spare, either. She’s all skin and bones! Still, it’s good to see her.

‘Mike!’ Jill stood up, and Mike caught her as she tottered. He held her to him. Tears streamed down his face. She kissed him on his cheek. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too. O God, it’s good to see you.’

While Geoff drove them to Melanie’s, Mike explained to Jill about her mum being in hospital, and how they were all staying at Melanie’s flat.

‘Who is Melanie? But anyway, how are the boys?’

Mike told her that David was at Auntie Alice’s, and that Adrian was still in hospital. He told her about the closing down of the Echo, and Tony’s search for Echo staff, how some were dead and others were incommunicado in hospital, and how Melanie had been beaten up.

He took Jill into the flat.

June looked up, startled. ‘Jill! You’re a skeleton! How do you feel? Sit down, I’ll put the kettle on.’

‘Confused! And a bit weak, but okay.’

‘June, you do the introductions, I’ve got a lift waiting to take me back to pick the bike up.’

‘Bike?’

‘Oh goodness! You explain, June!’

By the time Mike got back with the bike, Jill had caught up with the broad outline of the dreadful events of the previous few days. June and Melanie were discussing money and food. Linda was luxuriating in being able to understand the grown-ups’ discussions, and being encouraged to take part, and having her contributions taken as seriously as anyone’s. Jill was listening, half-dazed, the reality of the situation just beginning to sink in.

They had a cup of tea, and then June went off to see about signing on, and investigate Post Offices and banks. Linda went with her for the ride.

‘She’s fantastically good, considering she found her mum dead in bed the day before yesterday.’

‘Is it really as recently as that? She seems to have been here forever. Almost as long as the rest of you.’

‘We only came on Saturday, too. Just a few hours before her.’

‘I just can’t take all this in. I’ve lost the last four days altogether, and the rest of the world’s crammed a hundred years into them.’

Every channel on the telly carried only the same old printed message:

BOIL ALL DRINKING WATER FOR THREE MINUTES, etc.

‘Turn the wretched thing off. We’ll try again in a couple of hours.’

They talked about what they could do. They discussed trying to get in touch with people by telephone, but the only friend or relative any of them had who was on the phone was Melanie’s sister, who was still elusive.

‘Even if we could get through to anyone who’s investigating prevention or cure, we’d only be distracting them from their work, and we’ve no information or original ideas to offer.’

‘We ought to ring round the hospitals rather than you riding round them to enquire about people. We should leave a message for everyone about where we all are, to avoid what happened to Jill happening again.’

‘I’ll have to visit Tony, though, because East Park Upper School’s telephone isn’t working. They can’t get hold of an engineer. Something strange has happened at East Park Middle School too. I hope we can get through to all the others.’

Mike told them the story of the locked up hospital. They worked out the messages to leave at each place, and then rang round. They got through everywhere.

Jill’s mother was now said to be ‘recovering’, instead of ‘critical’, but otherwise there was no change in anyone’s condition. They couldn’t trace Mrs Halstead; she would most likely have gone to East Park Middle School. Melanie suggested to Mike that he ask the driver, the next day. ‘It’d be silly to go down there again now. I expect you and June’ll be going over to see Auntie Alice and David later. You’re spending more than enough time outside, if there’s any truth in the being outside theory.’

‘What’s this ‘being outside’ theory?’

‘It’s something Tony noticed. The first cases had all been out of doors a lot, and the worst cases had either been out a lot, or had been caught out in Wednesday night’s rainstorm.’

‘So we do have an idea to offer if we manage to get through to any research people.’

‘We did think at one stage of trying to suggest it, but we came to the conclusion that if there was anything in it, it would be fairly general, and they’d pretty certainly have noticed.’

‘But from what you’ve said, they might have been barking up the wrong tree epidemiologically, looking for infection from people, or animals, or food and drink. That pattern you made, Mike, of the towns affected early on: could that have been a weather map?’

‘They’ll have been barking up every tree they could find. Gordon Waters mentioned radioactivity and toxic chemicals, and anyone thinking about them would surely think about weather conditions. But what’s this map Mike made?’

‘Perhaps I ought to get it on my way to Auntie Alice’s. In one of the last issues of the Echo, there was a list of towns affected – this was way back in the days when it hadn’t hit everywhere. I marked them on a map in the atlas, and they formed a clear pattern. But of course we only had a list of the towns affected at one particular time.’

‘Not even really at one time, because the reports they’d collated would all have been different ages, and things were changing pretty fast. I imagine they still are, only no-one’s telling us. But anyone doing an epidemiological study would have a whole series of maps like that, corrected for the times of the information. I imagine they’ll have compared them with weather maps, but you can’t tell.’

‘Nor can you be sure they’ll have been able to get any information on the exposure of individual victims to rain and sky. Perhaps we ought to try to ring Newcastle University labs.’

‘We could try to ring Tyne Tees, and get in touch with Gordon Waters. He’d probably know if anyone was already on this track, and save us distracting the real workers.’

‘Hey! You remember what Waters said about the Ministry of Defence intercepting them every time they tried to talk to anyone in the MoD labs? He’s the chap to tell about Exercise Alpha!’

They could get no answer from Directory Enquiries, or any of the operator services. Melanie tried the local Independent offices, in the hope that they might have Tyne Tees’s number on file, but there was no answer there, either.

‘There’s a complete set of directories for the whole country at the office, but I don’t know where Mrs Rushton lives, and she and Geoff Haworth have the only keys. I’ve been trying to get hold of Geoff since Tony came and told me the Echo was closed, but there’s no answer at his house.’

‘You know he was arrested when the police came to close the place?’

Tony didn’t know when he came here in the first place, of course.

‘I’d gathered. But I can’t imagine they’d have held him for long. Anyway, I’d expect his wife to be at home sometimes. I’ve got a horrid feeling they’re ill.’

‘Is there no-one else on the staff you could ring who might know where Mrs Rushton lives?’

‘Or failing that, someone I could visit on the bike?’

‘No, I don’t think so. The only people who’s home addresses I know are Geoff, Andy and the reporters.’

‘Do any of the others have really unusual names, so we can find them in the directory?’

‘There’s Fiona. Her name’s Tyzack. But I bet she’s not on the phone.’

There was one Tyzack in the book, but it wasn’t Fiona, or anyone related to her.

‘Well, at least someone answered! I was beginning to wonder if your phone had been tampered with!’

Mike left Jill and Melanie to try to work out some way of contacting Gordon Waters, and went into the kitchen to investigate food stocks. They had quite a lot, but it was an odd assortment.

‘I can make some sort of a meal for supper today, but I’m going to have to go shopping sooner or later. I think I’ll pop out now and see if I can get some fresh stuff.’

‘The sooner you go, the better chance there is of getting fresh stuff, I guess. I can see it being like gold in a few days’ time.’

‘It already was, on Saturday.’

‘It’ll be food of any kind next, then. Don’t spend the earth on a few fresh things. I ought to have thought of this before. Go down and fetch up Mrs Halstead’s stuff and we’ll make a list of what we’ve got. Then we can work out what to spend our money on. We’ll spend the lot this afternoon, before prices start going up – or before they go up any more. The key’s on the mantlepiece. That’s it.’

Mrs Halstead’s hoard turned out to be enormous. Mike was still ferrying it upstairs when June and Linda arrived, and they helped him finish.

‘How are we ever going to know how much we owe her?’

‘It doesn’t matter exactly. Make a rough guess what it’s worth, and I’ll pay her fifty percent above that. I can afford it; she’ll try to say it wasn’t worth so much, but’ll really be pleased as punch; and in the present circumstances, it’s a bargain.’

‘I don’t know how I could even guess what it’s worth. I’d have to guess item by item and add it all up.’

‘I’ll do just that, while you fix a meal, Mike.’

‘Would it be easier for you, June, if I make a list of what there is, and then you do it from the list?’

‘Thanks for the thought, Linda, but it seems to make an awful lot of work for you without saving a great deal for me.’

‘No, let her, June. Then Jill and I can work it out sitting here, and work out this afternoon’s shopping strategy at the same time.’

June had discovered that signing-on had indeed been cancelled ‘until further notice’.

In other words, you’ve got to go and look every time. But what else could they do? Apart from telly announcements, which wouldn’t reach everyone.

‘Giro payments will continue normally’.

If the post delivers them.

The Post Office had a notice saying that local food traders and chemists would cash Giros for regular customers, and that supermarkets would cash them on production of ‘satisfactory evidence of identity’. Banks were closed too, but with no indication of alternative arrangements.

‘If I could get down there, I could use my cash card. You don’t have one, do you, Mike?’

‘No, they won’t issue them to claimants.’

‘My mum’s is in her purse. Bother! I’m going to have to start counting the pilchards again!’

‘But none of us could do her signature. Anyway, that’d be a criminal offence.’

‘That’d be the least of my worries, June, if I thought we could get away with it. I’m much more bothered by the moral offence of the banks preventing Linda getting at her mum’s money.’ I hope that doesn’t precipitate an argument about innocent side-effects of the bank’s ‘duty to protect its clients’, ‘Linda would get the money eventually’ – ‘yes, when the solicitors have had their unfair share’ etc. etc. When will I learn to keep my mouth shut?

‘I can do Mum’s signature quite well.’

‘But the machine doesn’t look at the signature, Linda love. It analyses the movements of your hand while you’re writing it. That’d be very hard to copy; I’m not sure it would be possible at all.’

When they’d eaten, Mike and June set off on the bikes, to spend all the money on food. It had turned out that they had plenty of protein, carbohydrate and fat; but very little in the way of vitamins, and a slight shortage of fibre. I’d never thought about it before, but I suppose that’s the nature of pre-packed and preserved food, on the whole.

There was very little fresh food of any kind to be had anywhere. What little there was was ludicrously expensive. They bought none. At first they kept to the collective decision not to buy very much in any one shop, to avoid being the spark to light the dry tinder and start the fire of panic buying; but they realized that they were too late for that. After the first few shops, seeing the bare state of the shelves, they gave up, and bought entire stocks of especially desirable items.

Each time they filled the panniers on Melanie’s bike, Mike rode it back to the flat while June scoured the shelves of another shop.

Several shopkeepers tried to increase prices on items Mike and June wanted a quantity of, but it wasn’t long before they knew better than the shopkeepers what items were genuinely in short supply, which gave them a telling bargaining advantage.

They eventually ran out of money. The pile in the kitchen looked as if it would feed an army for a year, but calculation suggested that it might feed the five of them for about a month. They didn’t know whether they might have to contribute something to Auntie Alice’s larder if things got worse; and of course there was the possibility that some of their friends might be discharged and need feeding.

‘If I do get a Giro tomorrow, we’ll go and spend it all straight away.’

‘Do you really think it could be a month before there’s food in the shops again?’

‘Nobody knows, Linda love. I expect it’ll be a lot longer than that before things get back to normal properly.’

They never will for Linda. I wonder what’s happened to her dad? They’ll never get back to normal properly for anybody. I suppose they’ll reach some new semi-stable condition that we’ll call normal.

While June and Mike had been out, Melanie had managed to get a Newcastle University microbiology lab’s number, from a pathology technician at Burnfield hospital. She’d talked about their suspicions about being outside, and rain, to a research worker at Newcastle, who said that she wasn’t aware of any work on those lines going on; epidemiology wasn’t her speciality. She said she’d mention it to her colleagues. She also looked up Tyne Tees’s number for Melanie.

Tyne Tees’s phone was continuously engaged.

Mike and June went round and spent the evening playing Monopoly with David and Auntie Alice. They cycled back to Melanie’s flat after midnight.

Auntie Alice was absolutely right. It was good for us to forget about our troubles for a few hours. I wonder what Pete’s up to? He’d be back by now, if it wasn’t for the epidemic. I hope he’s okay.

The streets were deserted, and the town had a desolate feel about it. Scarcely any houses had lights on, and there were more street lights out than usual.

I suppose that’s because no-one’s fixing them at the moment. I’d never realized that it was such a continuous job.

A rat scurried across the road just in front of them.

Melanie heard them come in, and called to them softly from her room, ‘Shhh! The other two are fast asleep; but do put a kettle on, there’s dears.’

Linda was in bed with Melanie, snuggled up to her good side. Melanie used her right hand to hold her cup, for the first time since her rib had been broken, so as not to wake her up. It hurt a bit, but she managed.

‘Poor Linda’s got an awful boil between her legs. It began to bother her while you were out on the bikes this morning, June. She’s a brave little lass. She never said a word till Jill tried to find out what was wrong with her when she couldn’t get to sleep. It must’ve been rubbing horribly on her saddle.’

‘That’s a shame. Auntie Alice said to take her round there tomorrow. She was half cross we hadn’t taken her before. It’d be good for both of them, too.’

‘We could walk round there. We can’t hide indoors all the time.’

‘You’re scarcely hiding in doors much at all! Anyway, I think walking that far would hurt her quite a bit.’

‘I could carry her easily enough.’

‘If she wants to come, I don’t see why she shouldn’t ride on the pannier carrier. There’s no traffic, and I can’t see the police stopping us.’

Not like June to be the first to think of breaking the law, even in a minor way like that. She’s right, of course.

‘I’ve not seen a police car on the street for several days.’

Jill semi-wakened as Mike crawled into his sleeping bag on the floor next to her. She snuggled up to him.

Mike was wakened in the small hours by the sound of coughing. He could hear whispering from the other room, but he couldn’t make out what was being said. Then there was a padding of small feet – that must be Linda – and a line of light appeared round the door. Mike wanted to get up and see what was going on, but Jill was sleeping peacefully, with her head on his shoulder and his arm around her, and he didn’t want to disturb her.

The coughing became less frequent, and eventually Mike realized that it had stopped. Then the light went out in a further episode of padding, and finally the whispering died away.

It took Mike ages to get back to sleep. Jill never stirred. Mike noticed the rhythm of her breathing: a long period of soft gentle breaths; a sudden, sharp, deep inspiration; deep, slow breathing becoming shallower and less slow progressively over a few cycle and merging imperceptibly into the next period of gentle breathing.

Does everyone breath like this when they’re asleep?

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On to Chapter 14