horrible to her. And anyway, he decided, he wanted to be there when she woke up. She'd be really proud when she found out that he'd looked after her like this. She had to wake up, he thought. If anything happened to Mum, who would look after me? And what about our baby?
A short time later a loud and unexpected electronic bleep shattered the relentless, uncomfortable silence. Dean jumped up with fright and then relaxed when he realised it was just Mum's mobile phone. He picked it up from where he'd left it and looked at the display. On the screen it showed a picture of a battery that was almost empty. Mum had shown him how to use the phone in case anything happened with the baby and they needed to get in touch with the hospital or Dean's dad quickly. He tried the emergency number again but there was still no answer. He decided that the police and the ambulance people must have been busy looking after all the other sick people he'd seen lying on the ground beyond the end of the road. Dean pressed the button which made a list of names come up. Mum had made him remember how to do this. He then pressed the button with an arrow on it which was pointing down and the list of names began to move. Some of the names he knew, others he didn't. Some he couldn't even read. He saw the names of his Aunt Edie and Caroline, Mum's best friend. Further on down the list he found the name he'd been looking for - Royston McFarlane - his dad. He'd call him and tell him what had happened and get him to come home. He should have thought of doing it sooner.
He couldn't get the phone to work.
He was sure he was doing it right, just how Mum had shown him. He highlighted his dad's name on the list, then pressed the green button in the top left corner of the keypad to make it ring. He kept trying but it just wouldn't work. It looked like it was going to work, but then it just beeped in his ear three times and disconnected. It kept on happening. After a while the battery picture came back on for a second before the phone switched itself off completely.
As the long day dragged on Dean became increasingly tired, cold and hungry. Sitting on the pavement next to his dead mother he ate the packed lunch she'd made him for school while he waited for his dad to come home from work.
By half-past six, when it was starting to get dark and still no-one had come, Dean became increasingly upset. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to go back to the house, but he didn't want to leave Mum outside on her own. He tried to drag her again but only managed to move her a little way. When he touched her skin she felt even colder than he was. When the light had almost completely disappeared he reluctantly accepted that there was nothing more he could do. He tucked Mum under the blanket again, put the pillow back under her head and ran back home.
Dean struggled to open the front door. Finding the right key had been hard enough in the daylight, now it was almost impossible. Nothing was working when he finally managed to get inside. The lights wouldn't come on and the television wouldn't work. The telephone was dead. He tried to dial '999' again but it didn't even ring out. He locked the door (Dad had his own key and would be able to let himself in when he got back) and went upstairs. He sat on the end of his bed and looked out of the window and waited. From where he was sitting he could just about see the top of his mother's head on the pavement.
It was exciting for a while, being on my own in the house. Even though it was dark and cold I could do whatever I wanted. I had a torch and a toy with a light in it so I could stay up and read and draw. I wanted to play games but I couldn't get the computer to work.
I kept getting upset when I looked out of the window and saw Mum, especially when it got really dark. I didn't like leaving her out there but I couldn't do anything about it.