The Chaos (22 page)

‘It’s all right,’ I say, ‘we’re going now.’ I stuff the bags under the buggy and pull on my jacket. 

‘You don’t need to,’ says Val.

Behind her on the sofa, Adam’s still got his eyes closed, but
he can’t possibly be asleep, not with this racket going on.

‘She’s going, Adam,’ Val says to him. ‘Aren’t you even going to say goodbye?’ He opens his eyes then, and looks straight at me. His face is blank. I feel like I’ve killed part of him.

I take a step forward. It can’t end like this. Misunderstandings heaped up between us.

‘Adam,’ I say, ‘it’s not you. It’s not you, it’s …’ 

He slams his fist into the sofa. 

‘Stop it!’ he yells. ‘Don’t say that, don’t ever say it!’

‘Okay, okay, I’m going.’ It’s no good talking to him. I’ve upset him so much, it’s better to leave him to it. I go to the front door and wedge it open, so I can get the buggy out. I manage to bump it down the step. Mia’s still crying, but I can’t pick her up until we’re well away from here. I turn to shut the door behind me, and suddenly Adam’s there, in the doorway. I’ve no idea what he’s going to do – shout at me, hit me, kiss me. He’s fizzing with energy, right on the edge. His hands are balled up into fists. He thrusts one towards me.

‘Here,’ he says. He turns his hand over and opens his fingers. There’s a couple of notes and some coins in it. 

‘No, don’t be stupid,’ I say.

‘Have it. Get out of London. There’s three days to go. Get Mia away from here. Away from me.’

He’s looking down as he speaks. But when he says ‘me’ his eyes flick up to meet mine, and now they’re not dead or lifeless. The spark’s back and it’s a spark I recognise – a pinprick of fear dancing in his eyes.

‘Take it,’ he says again, and he puts his hand on top of mine. His touch is so warm. My body reacts to it instantly; a blush spreads over my skin, there’s a sweet ache between
my legs. I don’t want to go any more. I want to stay here and fight whatever it is that’s trying to tear us apart. I want to touch his burnt face, kiss it, so he knows I don’t mind. 

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I’m going to start making a noise. I’ve got to get people out of London.’

‘On your own?’

‘Yeah, I dunno, whatever.’

We’re both standing there now, like there’s unfinished business between us. I’ve taken the money, but he hasn’t taken his hand away. I don’t want him to take his hand away.

‘I could help you,’ I say.

We’re looking at each other now, and for a second or two I wonder if he’s thinking what I’m thinking – that we’re meant to be together, that we can do this.

He moves his hand away from mine, and gently touches my face, the way I once touched him.

‘No,’ he says, and his voice is low and gruff. ‘You need to get away. That’s the best thing you can do. Take Mia somewhere safe.’

He’s right. I’ve known it all along. The only way to escape the future, my nightmare, is to be nowhere near Adam on the first.

‘Okay,’ I say, ‘I’ll go. But I’ll keep in touch, shall I? Maybe when this is all over, we can …’

I can’t imagine what’s the other side of the New Year. I don’t know what the world will be like. I don’t know if any of us will still be alive. Adam knows. He’s seen my number.

‘Adam …?’

‘Yeah.’

I suddenly realise that I don’t want to know if I’ve got a week, or a month, or a year. He said he’d never tell me, and
he’s right, it’s best that way. I don’t want to know my own death sentence. 

‘Take care.’

I dart forward and kiss his cheek, the one with the scarring. He closes his eyes, and I turn and walk quickly down the path.
Don’t look back. Don’t look back.
I can’t help it – I look over my shoulder and he’s still standing in the doorway. His eyes are open now, and he’s standing there, watching. He raises his arm and drags his sleeve across his eyes, and his face distorts – a smile that’s not a smile. I can’t watch him cry. I turn away and I walk on.

Chapter 49: Adam

S
he’s walking away, and perhaps it’s the best thing for both of us, for all of us. I want to scream, ‘Come back!’ I want to run after her and spin her round and hold her. But part of me, the good part of me, is happy she’s going – because now she’ll be safe and Mia will be safe. And if they’re not, it won’t be me that’s hurt them.

We’re doing it,
I think.
It doesn’t have to end the way we’ve seen. We’re changing it.

I go back into the house and get dressed properly.

‘Where are you going?’ Nan asks.

‘Churchill House,’ I say. ‘I’m going to see a man about a screen.’

She reaches for her coat.

‘No, Nan. Stay here. I’m going to do this on my own.’ I’m buzzing with it all now: the possibility of changing things; the chance to save lives, hundreds, thousands of lives.

She’s still got her coat in her hands.

‘Nan, I won’t be long. I’ll see Nelson and then I’ll come
home.’

‘It feels like it’s getting close, Adam. I don’t want to let you out of my sight. I made that mistake before. I let your dad go …’

She’s twisting the coat in her hands, wringing the life out of it. Before I know it, I’ve stepped towards her to give her a quick hug. Her arms go round me and she hugs me back, keeping me there a bit too long for comfort.

‘I’ll be back soon,’ I say, and she lets go.

‘Okay,’ she says, ‘okay. I’ll see you later.’ She turns away but she doesn’t head for her stool in the kitchen, she sits down on the sofa, in front of the news. And I’m out of there, jogging along the road. I suppose I’m half-hoping to catch up with Sarah, but there’s no sign of her on the main road.

Churchill House is only five minutes’ jog away. When I get there, I realise I don’t know Nelson’s number. I go into the lobby. The place is huge; fifteen floors and thirty flats on each level. I get my mobile out and try his number again. This time he answers.

‘Nelson, it’s me, Adam.’

‘Adam.’

‘Hi. I’m at your place, downstairs. What number are you?’

‘You’re here?’

‘Yeah, I need to talk to you.’

‘I don’t know, Adam. I don’t think it’s a good idea.’

‘What?’

‘I don’t think you should be here.’

‘Nelson, what’s up with you, man?’

‘Things have been … difficult … weird. We shouldn’t even talk on the phone, Adam.’

‘That’s why I’m here. To see you, talk face to face.’

‘I’m not sure …’

I’ve had enough of this.

‘Nelson, stop fucking about. I’m coming to see you if I have to knock on every fucking door. What number’s your flat?’

There’s a pause and I think for a moment that he’s hung up on me.

Then, ‘Nine two seven. Ninth floor.’

‘Right. Cheers. I’m coming up.’

The lift’s not working, so I head up the stairs. I pass three lots of people on the way – a couple of young guys, a woman with a toddler and a baby in a sling, and an old granny with a shopping trolley. They’re all the first of January. Every single one. This place, this building, is going to bury them all.

The first four or five floors are okay, but I’m flagging by the time I reach the ninth. Number 927 is towards the end of a walkway, open at the side. The door’s on the latch. Nelson’s hovering inside the hallway, out of sight.

‘Come in,’ he hisses at me. ‘Quickly.’

‘Hi, Nelson. Nice to see you too,’ I say.

He hardly seems to hear me, just closes the door behind us.

‘Did anyone see you?’ His voice is still low.

‘What?’

‘Did anyone see you come in here?’

‘I dunno. There was a few people on the stairs, but no one on your landing. What’s with the whispering? Why are you so jumpy?’

‘I’m being watched. They’re on to me.’

‘Who are?’

‘Dunno. MI5 probably.’

There’s no light on in the hall, and all the curtains are
closed, so it’s pretty dingy in there, but even so I can see the twitch on his face is going mad and his eyes are flicking around all over the shop, looking anywhere except me. 

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I put it on the para-web, Adam. Like I said I would. I put it on and it spread like wildfire. There’s tons of stuff out there about the New Year. Tons. People want to read it. They want to find out. There’s so much evidence now – you’re right, Adam, something big is going to happen.’

‘What is it, Nelson? Do you know?’

He shakes his head.

‘Could be natural. There’s a lot of seismic activity going on. A lot. The radon levels are up apparently.’

‘What’s that?’

‘A gas held in the rocks in the earth’s crust. If the levels go up, it means there’s activity. This guy, this professor, is posting them up on the para-web, but even that’s being shut down. Only they can’t stop us knowing about the volcanoes. Have you seen them, Adam? They
did
make the news.’

‘Yeah, but they’re in Japan. We ain’t got any volcanoes here.’

Nelson sighs.

‘What year are you in? Eleven, twelve? You’ve done plate tectonics, haven’t you?’

My mind spins like a fruit machine. Plate tectonics, geography, school. It all seems like a million years ago. Nothing stuck then and nothing comes to mind now. But I don’t want to look stupid.

‘Yeah, course.’

‘So Japan is on the other end of the Eurasian plate,’ he says.

‘Right. I knew that.’

‘So if something happens at one end of the plate, something’s likely to happen at the other end. In Europe – Greece, Turkey, Italy. Here. Like an earthquake. And we’ve got the gas and we’ve had a tremor already.’

‘What about fire?’

Nelson’s twitch is taking over his whole face. He swallows hard.

‘You get fire after earthquakes. Broken gas pipes, electrical fires. In San Francisco in 1906, the fires burned for three days after the quake. More people were burned to death than crushed.’

We’re still standing in the hall, but my legs are starting to feel wobbly. Fatal combination – nine floors of stairs and the end of the world.

‘Nelson, can we go and sit down?’ I make to go past him, find his lounge or his kitchen. He steps across the hallway, blocking me. ‘What’re you doing?’

‘You can’t come in. My mum’s in the kitchen and my brothers are here.’

‘Can’t you have friends back?’

‘No. Not you. I don’t want them to see you. I’m in enough trouble as it is.’

‘What sort of trouble?’

‘They traced my online posts here. They know it was me. We’ve had people round. Counter-terrorism, Children’s Services, Immigration.’

‘What?’

‘They all came, the whole lot of them all at once. Went through the flat like a swarm of locusts. Interviewed my mum and dad. My mum was terrified.’

‘Are they illegal? Your mum and dad?’

‘Course not, but they came here twenty years ago, before
ID cards, before anything, so all their paperwork is out of date. They’ve done nothing wrong.’

‘So they’re okay? Nothing happened? You just got searched.’

‘They’re
not
okay.
I’m
not okay. They’ve taken my computer. They’ve cautioned me.’

‘But you haven’t done anything illegal.’

‘Haven’t I? Conspiring to promote fear.’

‘What?’

‘It’s in the Terrorism Act 2018. Conspiring to promote fear. They could lock me up, Adam. Up to ten years.’

He’s on the edge, anyone can tell that. Right on the edge. And I’ve done it to him.

‘Nelson,’ I say, ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.’

‘Neither did I. I didn’t know what I was getting into.’

‘I shouldn’t have asked you. I’ll go. I’ll leave you alone. Only …’

He finally looks at me, and his number hits me again. 112027. That shitty number. He don’t deserve it.

‘What?’

‘Only, promise me you’ll get out of this place.’

‘I can’t leave without my family.’

‘Get them out too, then.’

‘It’s not easy …’

‘Do it, Nelson. Just do it.’

‘I will. I’ll get them out.’ 

I turn to go.

‘Adam,’ he says. ‘What did you come here for?’

‘I wanted to ask you something.’

‘What was it?’

I can’t ask him about the screens. He’s done enough already.

‘Nothing. It’s not important.’

‘It must have been something.’

‘Yeah, but it doesn’t matter now.’

‘Tell me, Adam. I’m in trouble already. If there’s something I can do, some way of getting back at those bastards.’

‘Nelson!’

‘They’re bullies, Adam. They’ve frightened my mum. That’s low. That’s immoral.’

‘I just thought … I just thought we could do something with the public information screens. Hack into them or something.’

He smiles.

‘Of course. Of course we could.’

‘Only not without a computer.’

‘There are computers everywhere, Adam. There are even computers outside London, or so it’s rumoured …’

‘You don’t have to … you’ve done enough already. Look after yourself now. Yourself and your family.’

‘I don’t have to, but I want to. They’re going to let thousands of people die, Adam. It’s not right …’

‘Take care, mate.’

I make a fist and hold it out to him. He looks at it for a few seconds then he clears his throat and does the same, and we touch knuckles. I wonder if he’s ever done that before. I wonder if he’ll ever do it again.

‘Bye, Nelson,’ I say.

I hear the door closing behind me. I’m not the praying sort, but as I jog along the walkway I send a little prayer out into the courtyard and up into the grey sky.
Let him get out. Let him be all right.
And maybe he will, because he may be quiet and he may be geeky, but I reckon Nelson’s got more balls than a snooker hall.

Chapter 50: Sarah

I
’m only a few minutes’ walk from Adam’s house when they pick me up.

The speed of it is shocking; one moment I’m pushing the buggy along the pavement, the next a car has drawn up by me and I’m bundled into the back seat while someone unclips Mia and straps her into a baby seat beside me. Then people get in either side of us, doors are slammed shut and locked, and we’re off.