Lee Kerr - Welcome to the Apocalypse

She rushes around the car, making Noah wait on the pavement as she gets Poppy out of the road side, then escorting her to safety on her first new step of many in her young life. She tries not to look at the house but in the end she can’t help herself, and it’s then that she notices a curtain twitching. She checks one more time that it’s the right place. She can’t see a street name but the number is right, and if Blake has indeed been able to find the right place then they have struck lucky. The red bricks are dark and aged but still immaculately maintained. The white brick trim looks fresh and the gate that’s central to the large porch has been touched up recently. All these people were probably getting ready for summer when things started happening; making sure everything was perfect for BBQ ’s and dinner parties, as the chaos made this a different summer to all the others. The lawn on either side of the path is immaculately trimmed and the plants are well looked after, all signs that the good life wants to endure.

She sees another curtain move, this time downstairs in a large bay window that she imagines opens onto the dining room, or perhaps the first reception room. It’s everything she hopes that one day she will have.

The gate squeaks open; it’s almost as if the sound was included in the design. She looks back once more to see that Blake is still engrossed in his game; he could be almost anywhere – a teenager who has never had to grow up. She leads the children up the garden path, towards the big wooden door. Hannah wastes no time and presses the button as soon as they reach the door, since the occupants clearly already know she is here and must surely recognise the children.

She doesn’t wait long before pressing it again. She is very keen to meet them, desperate to accelerate the inevitable rejection, with thoughts running through her mind of leaving the kids at the door and running to the car. After all, she thinks, this is a burden for the family to bear. She was only paid for a week’s work and now she has all this responsibility for nothing in return. It’s not fair, she thinks. What about me, she asks herself. Considering whatever is happening right now, she has many worries already – leaving these children with some rich family really shouldn’t be one of them.

If she just slammed the gate shut, Blake would happily start the car and she would have a precious head-start on Noah. It wouldn’t take much for Blake to speed off; he would happily tell her that she has done the right thing. He will help her numb any guilt she feels, and his inability to see that there might be anything wrong about it will help her to forget. She needs to focus on her needs – that’s the right thing to do.

But then she starts to worry that they aren’t the right family, or that she has got the address mixed up, or that Blake has driven down the wrong street. She knows that she could find another hundred reasons why she cannot leave them and so she presses the bell one more time, pushing those bad thoughts out of the way. She looks down and smiles. ‘It’s going to be okay,’ she says, holding her finger on the bell.

‘It’s not like we don’t want them, she says, perched on an armchair. ‘It’s just not a convenient time right now.’

Hannah looks at her and although she has nothing to say back, at least she knows she was right: the window did indeed lead into a large reception room and a world of luxury. She wants to call it the living room, but thinks she might somehow be insulting it by doing so and she doesn’t think it’s the only one – it’s just the first and only one they have been allowed into. She wasn’t able to see into any other rooms when the front door was finally opened and they were allowed in. It wasn’t a particularly welcoming greeting but Hannah was just pleased that it was them. Agnes and Simon barely managed a smile between them but they were family nevertheless. She didn’t ask if their name was really Grump, she just presented the children to them, like prize trophies they never wanted, never asked for.

Agnes took her time to look them up and down, to ask a hundred times why they were here and where their parents were. Only after Hannah forced her way in, pushing Noah over the threshold of the large step, did this woman finally give in.

‘Are you listening?’ Agnes asks, leaning forward. ‘I was just saying that this is not really a good time and perhaps you should keep them, just until Karen and Alistair get back. I’m sure it won’t be long now.’ She smiles, showing off a row of perfectly white teeth. Hannah wants to ask if they have been whitened or if they are dentures; she wonders at what age people usually get them fitted. Agnes looks too young to have false teeth; she looks as though she is at a point where retirement is still not overdue, although it would be welcome. Her grey hair is immaculate, her green blouse a perfect fit, albeit not a shade that is fashionable any more. ‘I even hear that they have temporarily re-opened Heathrow airport so that’s got to be a good sign.’

Hannah takes a deep breath, brushing back her fringe, desperate for Agnes to see the bags under her young eyes and the lines that have appeared from nowhere in a matter of days. She needs her to understand a very different view of how things are going. ‘They didn’t fly out of Heathrow, and besides we have to face the fact that they might not come back at all and that means you need to face this with me.’

Agnes doesn’t say anything, but looks around, no doubt hoping that her husband will appear and get her out of this mess.

Hannah takes the chance to look through the windows to the large doors that open into the dining room, where the kids and Blake now are. She’s pleased that she managed to get Blake inside, even if he is still playing his little boy’s game.

Agnes leans forward and touches Hannah’s leg. ‘Little one, they are both very resourceful adults and I’m quite sure they will find their way back soon. I do believe you can fly out of one London airport and back into another. Well, at least you can as a gold member, other classes I’m really not sure about.’

‘I know that!’ Hannah shouts and then stands up. ‘I’m not that stupid.’

Agnes sits back and brushes her skirt, trying to remove fluff that isn’t there, picking at anything she thinks doesn’t belong. ‘Oh, well, I’m sure you’re not,’ she says, staring over at Blake. ‘It’s just that you and your partner don’t seem too used to flying, that’s all. I know there are those cheaper airlines now, so I assumed their rules are probably a little different.’

‘Whatever you think,’ Hannah says, now pacing around the living room, or whatever it is. She stands on the rug, feeling how cushioned it is, wanting to ask Agnes where she got it but knowing that there will probably never be a right time to do that. She knows it’s expensive – she almost definitely didn’t pick it up in a sale. ‘I don’t care about flights, what I care about is when they will be back. And don’t you think that if Karen and Alistair were able to fly then they would have been back by now? Or, if they could make contact, don’t you think they would call to check their children are okay, either with you or me? I mean, have you not heard anything and are you not a bit worried?’

Agnes sits still and runs her fingers through her hair. She stares downwards, no doubt looking for any sign of dirt on the rug, but she doesn’t seem to be giving the question real thought. After taking what seems like minutes to think of an answer that should take less than a second, Agnes sort of shrugs her shoulders. She should be able to offer more but she can’t seem to find any words to put it in context.

Hannah watches in astonishment, feeling the tears build in her eyes as the wave of confusion somehow lifts. She has been exposed to the true horror of real families, and how having the same name and the same blood, can sometimes do nothing to keep them together.