Lee Kerr - Welcome to the Apocalypse

He suddenly stands up, towering over her. ‘I have already raised my children and done my bit. I worked hard to put them through good schools, ensure they attended solid universities, and I paid more than my fair share for an extremely extravagant wedding.’

‘Oh, poor you,’ Hannah says, looking over at the pair of large suitcases.

‘But I did all of that. I stayed in a loveless marriage until I was 55 – constantly being nagged not to leave, not to break us up and always to do what is right for our children. You get less for life!’

Agnes walks back in, a tray in her hand – tea in mugs, no biscuits. Hannah instantly knows not everyone gets treated this poorly. ‘You really do get less for life,’ Agnes says.

Simon rests back down in the seat and takes a deep breath. ‘We both did our time and now our lives have changed – for the better, I must add.’

Agnes hands her a mug. ‘I took the liberty of adding milk and sugar.’

‘It will clearly speed up my departure,’ Hannah says, thinking of spilling it all on that nice rug just to see what reaction it gets from these two.

Agnes moves closer, staring at her, showing she is ready for their next round. ‘Look, we have a different set of priorities now and people shouldn’t judge us on our lifestyle choice.’ She sits on Simon’s lap and kisses him, a proper kiss that goes deep beyond the lips, something Hannah thought was reserved only for the young. It is the kind of kiss that she knows she should be experiencing on a regular basis, but seldom does. When they are finished she looks back at Hannah. ‘We each had very good jobs and when our children were still with us, we worked hard to give them everything we could.’

‘And settlement payments when we moved on,’ Simon says.

‘We really have done our bit and will do no more,’ Agnes says.

Hannah sets her tea down. ‘So that’s it? You don’t care what happens to your grandchildren?’

They both shake their heads in unison as Simon speaks for them: ‘I’m sorry, but we don’t see them as our children anymore, and we certainly don’t see those things next door as our responsibility any more than we would a homeless person. We made this clear when we divided up the family.’

‘They’re only children!’ Hannah shouts. ‘You would see them out on the street?’

‘What can we do?’ he says, looking to Agnes and then to Hannah. ‘This neighbourhood is already at risk and you know we are planning to stay here to defend our home.’

‘And perhaps even our lives,’ Agnes says, finding a tissue from somewhere in the depths of her sleeve and dabbing her dry eyes. ‘We built this home as a symbol of our new and exciting life together and now look at what is happening.’

Simon takes hold of his wife, his true companion and lover. Despite hating them for their open lack of humanity, Hannah can tell they were meant to be together, with everything that happened in the decades before their meeting just destiny’s silly games. If only they had met earlier and not settled down so early in life, they could have had many wonderful years together – perhaps their whole adult life. They could have had children together, developed their careers together and travelled the world as one, enjoying their bodies in their prime. Hannah sees their past mistakes, as much through her own choices as theirs.

Agnes looks at Hannah, her mind seemingly focused. ‘We really do have our own problems and we asked not to be disturbed.’

‘So you really don’t consider that you have any commitment to those children in there?’

They both look at each other and shake their heads.

‘We have both started new lives,’ he says.

‘We made a commitment to each other to build this new life,’ she says. ‘We even had my dog put down.’

They quickly embrace as one, wrapping their arms around each other, as Agnes’s eyes finally show a liquid glint. ‘Nothing from before carried through into our new life.’

Agnes suddenly stands up. ‘I wish you’d never given them the address.’

Simon nods, then takes a white envelope from his back pocket and pushes it towards Hannah. ‘Here is £1,000. Use it to look after them until Alastair and Karen return, which I’m sure won’t be long now.’

Hannah keeps her hands down, refusing to take anything from them that will lead to this meeting ending. ‘Let us stay here, please.’

He shakes his head. ‘You and your boyfriend will be fine. You are young and far more likely to survive, as long as you adapt to the situation and keep your wits about you.’

Now it’s Hannah’s turn to shake her head, to share a secret or two of her own. ‘He doesn’t want them,’ she whispers, looking over at the door.

Simon takes a deep breath and stares at Hannah, twisting the ring on his finger. ‘Well, then, it’s lucky they have you.’

‘No,’ she says, shaking her head and edging towards them, desperate for their help, hopeful for their understanding when her own parents are so far away. ‘Please, help me. I’m begging you.’

He steps away from her, still holding out the envelope, but Hannah keeps her hands held by her sides. ‘I need more than money.’

He forces it into her hands and then lets go, no longer willing to argue. The scrunched-up envelope falls to the floor. She looks at it and then up at him, still unable to believe what she has had to witness. ‘I can’t do this,’ she says.

Simon gives her a stern look, as though he’s a parent telling a child that their first day at school will be fine, that the fear and anxiety will ultimately pass. ‘You can and you will.’

Agnes starts fidgeting, looking at the door and then over at Hannah. Her body is shaking now. ‘Make them leave, Simon!’ she shouts. ‘I don’t want them here and I don’t want any of this. It’s not the life we agreed to and I want you to make them leave us alone!’

Hannah looks over into the other room and sees two small shadows against the glass doors, and is immediately struck by the absence of a bigger shadow that she so longed to spot watching over them.

‘There’s enough hell out there without letting hell in here too, so make them leave!’ Agnes shouts, before rushing to those doors, frantically pulling them open. ‘Get out! It’s time to leave! We don’t want any of you here!’

‘Calm down, Grandma,’ Blake says. He is still casually sitting down, unwilling to be either a help or a hindrance.

It is Noah who steps forward, his finger pointed towards Agnes. ‘You’ve never wanted us and you’re the most horrible grandma in the world!’

‘I’m not your bloody grandma!’ she hisses, with a hand raised up.

Poppy starts crying and runs towards Noah, but he doesn’t seem to want back down. He faces the horror in front of him, full of new-found anger after his weeks of neglect.

Simon moves towards Agnes and grabs her arms, telling her to relax and that all of this will go away, that all these people will leave. He tries to calm her down, to silence everyone, as the voices, screams and cries of a very lost family echo throughout the room.

Blake walks past all of them, snaking his way around the ongoing feud. Time stands still for a moment as he makes his way towards Hannah, the only one who is silent, mesmerised by what she is seeing, witnessing the true horror of what a reconditioned human mind is capable of.

‘They are only children,’ she says, still looking at them. ‘Any adult’s instinctive reaction would be to protect them, especially now.’

‘Let’s go, now,’ Blake whispers in her ear, unwilling to debate anything he has heard. ‘While they’re distracted we need to sneak out and get into the car. By the time they realise we have gone, we will be speeding down the road to freedom.’