the top left corner and the scrolling news feed along the bottom.
‘It appears,’ his voice announced, ‘we have lost some lighting in the studio. I’m sure this will be rectified short—’
And then there was a chaotic blizzard of snow on the TV and a hiss.
‘What happened to the TV man?’ asked Jake.
Daniel, holding Leona’s phone in his hand, looked up at her. ‘Oh shit. What’s going on now?’
She shook her head.
And then the lights in the lounge went out and the TV winked off.
‘Whuh—?’
The amber-hued streetlights outside along the avenue, which had only minutes ago flickered on, went out.
‘The power’s gone,’ she whispered in the dark.
Jacob began to panic. ‘It’s all dark! Can’t see!’ he whimpered.
‘Relax Jake, you can see. It’s not dark, it’s just gloomy,’ she said as calmly as she could manage, feeling the leading edge of a growing wave of panic preparing to steal up on her too.
Jacob started crying.
‘Shhh Jake. Come up here and sit with us.’
He got up from the floor and squeezed on to Jill’s leather Chesterfield sofa between Leona and Dan. ‘There,’ she said, ‘nothing scary’s going to happen, we’re just going to sit here and—’
Then her phone rang and all three of them jumped.
CHAPTER 41
7.53 p.m. GMT Between Manchester and Birmingham
‘Leona?’ cried Jenny with relief, ‘Is that you?’
‘Mum?’
‘Yes. I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day. Are you all right love?’ she replied quickly, not daring to waste a second of precious phone time. God knew how much longer the mobile phone system was going to last. ‘Did you pick up Jacob?’
‘Yes, he’s here.’
‘Are you at home?’
She heard Leona pause, a moment’s hesitation was all.
‘Mum,’ Leona started, ‘Dad told me to go to Jill’s house.’
‘Jill’s place? Why?’
Another, even longer, pause. ‘Dad just thought we’d be safer here in Jill’s house.’
Jenny wondered what the hell Andy was thinking about. She’d be much happier knowing they were settled in safely at home. Anyway, she remembered Jill was away this week, on one of her sales team’s get-togethers abroad.
‘How did you get in to—?’
She could hear Leona crying.
‘Doesn’t matter, I’m sure Jill won’t mind. Do you two have food?’
The question prompted a gasp from her daughter. ‘Oh my God, it was horrible Mum. It was just . . .’
Jenny could hear the tears tumbling in the timbre of her daughter’s voice.
‘. . . at the supermarket, as we came out, things began to go really bad. We were nearly in a fight. And we’ve been watching the news, and it’s . . .’
Jenny interrupted. ‘I know love, I know.’
Oh Christ do I know.
Jenny had seen things in the last few hours that she never imagined she would see in a country like this; a civilised, prosperous country, with the exception of the odd gang of youths on the roughest of estates, it was a place where one largely felt safe.
‘I know,’ she replied falteringly. She could hear her own voice beginning to wobble too.
Be strong for her.
‘Oh God, Mum. It’s just how Dad said it would be, isn’t it? It’s all falling apart.’
Jenny wondered what was best for her children now. Denial? A blank-minded reassurance that everything was going to be as right as rain in a day or two? Was that what Leona needed to hear from her? Because that wasn’t the truth, was it? If she now, finally, had come round to trusting Andy’s prophetic wisdom; if her worn-down tolerance and weary cynicism was to be a thing of the past and she was now ready to fully take onboard his warnings . . . then she had to concede this wasn’t going to sort itself out in a couple of days.
Things were going to get a lot worse. Andy had foreseen that. Andy had warned her, Christ, Andy had bored her to death with it, and now, finally, here it was.
‘Leona, my love. Have you got food?’ Jenny asked, swiftly wiping away the first tear to roll down her cheek as if somehow her daughter might catch sight of it.
‘Y-yes, Mum. We got a load of tinned things from the supermarket. ’
‘Good girl Leona. Can I speak to Jacob?’
Jenny heard a muffled exchange in the background, and then her son was on the phone.
‘Mummy?’
‘Jake,’ she replied, the trembling in her voice becoming too difficult to hide.
‘Mum? Are you okay?’
‘Oh I’m just fine, love.’
‘You sound sad.’
‘I’m not sad.’
‘When are you coming home?’
‘As soon as I can get home. I’m trying . . . really,’ replied Jenny looking across at the face