The End of Men(87)
“Do you want to come to the house? Briefly, maybe? To see them?” The hope in Phoebe’s voice is so strong it overrides the voice in the back of my head that says, “This is too much, too soon.” I want to see Evie and Ida. I want to be the kind of woman who can do this normal thing of spending time with my friend’s family, a family to whom I used to be so close that they felt adjacent to my own.
We talk about everything on the walk over to Phoebe’s house in Battersea. Everything from the films we’ve been watching to the annoying neighbors who blast loud music every day at 7 a.m., ruining Phoebe’s mornings. We talk about the birthday present she needs to buy for her notoriously awful sister-in-law and the restaurants we’re excited to go back to once they open.
We arrive at her house and I desperately want to go home but I also want to see the girls. Post-Plague life is a lesson in contradictions. Phoebe lets us in the house and the cries of, “Mum, Mum, Mum” quickly hush while Evie and Ida hang back, behind Phoebe, eyeing me warily.
“Hello,” I say, horrified by how nervous they seem around me. I shouldn’t be surprised. Evie was only a toddler when I last saw her and Ida was ten months. They don’t know me.
“You might not remember me, I’m Catherine. I’m friends with your mum.” I stick with the present tense. Any explanation of our complex history is best left unsaid. Phoebe magically whisks us all through to her huge kitchen, where Rory is sitting at the dining table on his laptop.
“Oh,” he says, shocked when he sees me. “Lovely to see you, Catherine.” He recovers quickly and his face resumes its usual placid expression. Let’s just say that no one has ever been surprised when Rory says he’s an accountant.
I sit down with Rory and the girls at the table. Phoebe puts a cup of apple-and-berry tea in front of me and I talk to the girls, hearing about dolls and school and games they’re going to play in the garden. I’m in the room, listening and nodding, but simultaneously my mind starts floating above my body watching the scene play out. Huh, so this is what it’s like to have a six-year-old. This is what it’s like to have two children. This is what it’s like to have a life that’s intact. The disassociation continues until I realize Phoebe’s called my name three times and everyone’s looking at me.
“Do you want to stay for dinner?” Phoebe asks and it takes every ounce of my will to say, with a smile, “That’s so kind, but I’m going to head home. It was lovely to see you all.” I dispense brief hugs to Evie and Ida, wave to Rory and hug Phoebe tightly.
“Thank you,” Phoebe whispers into my hair as she holds me tight.
I don’t have it in me to say anything back to her. I’m trying so hard to be the right sort of woman in this nightmare, and today I managed. I pushed aside jealousy and bitterness. I was kind and open and brave. But my poor, broken heart didn’t need to see what it’s missed out on. It didn’t need to see that at all.
JAMIE
A small farm next to the Cairngorms National Park, the Independent Republic of Scotland
Day 1,626
Dear Catherine,
I’m sorry for not agreeing to meet with you. I know you said that I could see the questions before we met but the idea of an interview made me nervous. My mum says I don’t need to apologize but I don’t want you to think I’m being rude.
Mum said you wanted to know what it was like when I was on my own and what school’s been like since the evacuation program ended. I don’t like talking about the first six months when I was in the hut. I was diagnosed with PTSD last year, which has put a lot of things into perspective. I think my mum blames herself for keeping me out there for so long but she didn’t know any better.
It was much better once I could go back and live with everyone. Most of the other boys were okay about me having my old bedroom and not sharing with anyone. After so long alone I didn’t like having people too close to me. The boys were great. I became really close friends with some of them, especially Logan and Arthur. They live in Dundee and we visit each other sometimes. We used to play football a lot and talk about what we’d do once the vaccine was invented. Eventually, though, someone would always stop the conversation because it made them miss home too much. We had a thing. If you said “chat” it meant everyone had to change the topic. No questions asked. That was really helpful.
We had a big party when the news came about the vaccine. Mum kept crying and a few of the boys cried too. I would forget that I had my mum and dad but they didn’t. Lots of their dads and brothers died while they were staying with us. Mum dealt with it better than I did. She set up a “Space Room” and if you went in you could be on your own for up to three hours. She used to make sure you didn’t have laces or anything sharp, which was a downer, but still. I get what she was trying to do.
I remember Mum screaming and telling us that she’d just had a phone call and the first group of boys were going home. It was amazing and exciting and also sad. I was happy for them but scared about what would happen next.
Gradually things have gone more back to normal. I’ve been back at school since August 2029 but I missed a few years so I won’t finish until I’m twenty. I’m going to be a doctor. Everyone says there aren’t enough doctors and I think I’d be good at it. I’m the best in my class at biology.