Alpha and omega, p.33
Alpha and Omega, page 33
'I won't waste her precious gift, Daddy, I promise.'
'You have to promise it to Mummy as well.'
'Do you think she is here now, up here with us.'
'I know she is.'
She nodded, tears sparkling her eyes. 'I think so too. I promise Mummy. I really really promise.'
We stood quietly for a few minutes, lost in our memories, savouring the special gift.
And so we survived, Sophie and I, survived that hard and bitter winter of grief.
Chapter Ninety-Nine
The valley was dead. The telephones had not worked for weeks and the power had completely failed. Many years ago, Arthur Toseland had installed a diesel generator, I think it must have after the miners’ strike of 1973 and the Three Day Week, and now I blessed his prescience. It means we have power and light. We have a fridge and a freezer and plenty of food, although it gives me no pleasure to admit that most of the food we have in store is looted from the Spar mini-market in the village or from the Northern Co-operative society in Crook.
Altogether I made four excursions from the farm, rather, we made four excursions from the farm, I did not want to risk Sophie visiting a possibly infected area, but there again, I did not want her alone on the farm. Just in case. Just in case something happened to me.
I took Arthur's shotgun with us, the one he used for hunting rabbits and grouse up on the heatherlands. Not that I intended to use it. Or even knew how to. But you never know, after all, so far as I knew, law and order had comprehensively broken down, there had been armed gangs roaming the inner cities and who was to say they had not survived and had spawned out into the countryside.
But there was nobody. No-one around anywhere. Neither up the valley or down. Neither on the high road or the low road. Not a living soul to be found.
Outside the shops I backed the Transit up onto the pavements, revved the engine hard whilst under braking and then reversed full tilt into the shop windows, smashing them aside in a shower of glass. Sophie thought it was great fun and bounced up and down on her seat throughout. 'The people would go ape-sugar if they could see us doing this,' she giggled. Ape-sugar?
And we loaded up the van with everything we might need. And a few things we might not need as well, but there again, you never know. As well as food and non-perishables, I took some life-giving essential supplies as well, scotch, vodka, beer, a case of wine or two - for medicinal purposes only, you understand.
Sophie took some video cassettes, cartoons - Tom and Jerry, Disney, stuff like that. When we got home she watched 'Bambi' nineteen times in a row. Pity the hunters didn't kill Bambi off as well as his mother, would have saved me an awful lot of boredom and wanting to throw things at the television, I mean once is all right, twice is stretching tolerance levels a bit - but nineteen times in a row?
So, as I say, we survived the winter, Sophie and I. And then in March, she took ill. Quite suddenly, as if Sargon had been waiting for the sun to come out and warm it's frozen bones. For a while I thought I was going to lose her - but she survived. It rained a lot, as if God were trying to wash away all our tracks and traces. I continued with this journal, now completed.
And so now here we are. April 23rd, St George's Day, the year 2000, the dawn of the new millennium. Where are you now St George, when we need you most?
What else is there to say?
Chapter One Hundred
This morning I began to sneeze.
THE END
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Author’s Note
This book was first written about 1995 and revised in 1998. Nothing much about the state of the world has improved since then, if anything things are worth. We continue to destroy this beautiful planet at an alarming rate and despite many warning voices, nothing is changing.
About the Author
Giles Ekins was born in the North East of England and qualified as an Architect in London. Subsequently he spent many years living and working in Northern Nigeria, Qatar, Oman and Bahrain overseeing the design and construction of various projects including schools, hospitals, leisure centres, shopping malls and most particularly high prestige hotels.
He has now returned to England in lives in Sheffield with his wife Patricia. Giles is the author of ‘To Hell and Back’ and ‘Murder by Illusion’ published by Next Chapter Books and has several other projects in the pipeline. He has self-published a volume of short stories entitled ‘Sometimes You Just Kill The Wrong People and other stories’ and has commenced writing stories for children.
Notes
Chapter 9
1 Iraqi Newspaper ‘BABEL’, published by Saddam Hussein’s son Uday.
Chapter 14
1 Al Khali was paraphrasing a pamphlet produced by Saddam Hussein’s uncle and father-in-law, Khairallah al-Tulfah. The pamphlet was entitled ‘Three Things That god Should Not Made: Persians, Jews and Flies.’ Al-Tulfah wrote that Persians ‘were animals God created in the shape of humans’ ‘Jews were mixture of the dirt and leftovers of diverse peoples’ and flies ‘a trifling creation, whom we do not understand God’s purpose in creating.’ The pamphlet was very popular amongst Ba’ath party members.
Chapter 20
1 Hussein Kamal was offered immunity by Saddam Hussein if he returned to Baghdad. Within 3 days he and his brother were murdered by members of his family ‘in order to restore family honour’ Saddam Hussein claimed he did not order the killings but subsequently he rewarded the killers.
Chapter 33
1 0n December 12th 1996, the armoured car in which Uday Hussein was travelling was attacked with grenades and machine guns, causing severe wounds which left him with a permanent limp. The attack was carried out by the Jordan based Iraqi National Accord opposition group. Dozens of suspects were rounded up for interrogation and it is reported that Uday watched films of their torture and execution from his hospital bed.
Ekins, Giles, Alpha and Omega
