An Ordinary Epidemic (47 page)

Zac got up last, rubbing his face. His pyjama pants stopped a couple of inches above his ankles. His preposterously long and lanky feet, corded with tendons, were white on the chilly floorboards. She could see the hairs standing up on his arm as he lay his head on the table. He held his maths book loosely in his hand, slid it onto the table beside him.

‘Aren't you cold?'

‘No.'

She had left turning on the phone until he woke up and handed it to him, with the text open. He added another data point to the graph. Each plotted point brought them incrementally closer to opening the door. There was a story to be read in the dots. Yesterday, she had spent an hour with him calculating every kind of statistic they could find in his textbook. Zac assumed she knew how to do it and what it meant and from three days before her Year Nine maths exam to three minutes after it, she had. But while she pretended to explain it to Zac, it came back to her and she taught them both. As far as their limited understanding of high school maths went, it was real. Zac had formed a hypothesis, made a prediction and the data supported it. Scientific method as well as maths.

It was tempting to extrapolate from the graph, draw a line down from their curve until it hit zero but she had a feeling that they couldn't weigh down their small amount of data with too much magical meaning.

Ella rode on Sean's back, wielding a pool noodle, Sean on hands and knees. Facing them on the other side of the square of lawn, lined up as if for a joust, Oscar perched on Zac's back, similarly armed.

‘Righto, this match, the Brothers against the Others. Remember, first to touch the ground loses a point, no touching
with your hands, and steeds, no helping. Go.'

Sean and Zac charged at each other over the couple of grassed metres. Sean shied at the last minute but Zac kept up an ungainly gallop, straight into Sean's side. He shouted out just before impact. ‘Hang on, Mouse.'

Oscar's grin split his face. With one hand he grasped Zac's shirt tight, with the other he swung his noodle, roughly in the direction of Ella. It flexed, missing by most of its length. Sean buckled sideways, taking his far hand off the ground to steady Ella. He teetered but leaned into Zac's blow, balanced on his other hand.

‘Cheat, cheat!' Zac sat up on his haunches, launching Oscar backwards. ‘Dad held Ella on. That's cheating.'

Sean started to bluster but Zac suddenly jerked up straight, on guard, no longer listening but looking from Hannah to Sean and back. Now Hannah heard it, the sound of an engine idling in the street. Different from the diesel chug of the patrols, a quieter reminder of the outside world.

‘Hey,' she rubbed her hands together, ‘hey, what about a game of cards? We could go inside and have a game of cards.' She shooed the kids in. ‘So, what's it going to be, Go Fish or Snap?' She had just about forgotten the call but it had to be Gwen. In the sunshine and the joy of the game, even Stuart had taken time off from haunting the corners of her mind. She was mortified by how easily she could forget, how simple it was to be distracted from the misfortune of those so physically close.

While she knew they owed Gwen something, a neighbourly concern, she had hardened herself with the belief that she had, in fact, done as much, if not more, than was owed to someone who had neglected to prepare. Even if the risk was small, now was not the time. Not now, when Zac's graph promised that they had nearly reached the other side.

Ella stood her ground, feet firmly planted, certainty on her
face. ‘But it's not inside play now. We don't have inside play 'til after lunch.'

‘What about we have inside play time and then lunch?'

The determined frown on Ella's face started to shift to a pout of distress, her eyes reflecting a growing bewilderment. ‘But music time is before lunch.'

‘Ella, we're playing cards now. Music time will have to be later. Be a big girl.'

‘Mum, I'm just going to look out the front.'

‘Stay here, Zac. You're not helping.'

‘Why don't I stay here and play cards?' Sean rubbed her shoulder. ‘I think Zac needs to go out the front.'

‘What's out the front?' Oscar asked.

‘Nothing for little kids.' Zac snapped at him.

‘Mum, Zac's being mean.'

‘Stay here and play cards with Dad.' She gave Sean a grateful smile. ‘We won't be long.'

Zac paced down the hall with determination, Hannah in his wake. Almost at the front door, they heard voices from the street. Zac faltered.

‘Monkey, we can go back and play cards.'

‘Wouldn't I be a coward, if I let Gwen be taken away but I wouldn't watch?'

‘You don't have to be brave.'

Zac oscillated from front foot to back foot. Hannah led him to the bedroom window. When they stood at the far end, they could see the front third of a bus parked outside Gwen's. A figure in boilersuit, mask and gloves walked into their line of sight. Gwen came into view, led by her hand like a child. She dropped the space-suited figure's hand and looked around, bewildered. Her grey hair was unkempt, her skin loose and sallow.

‘She doesn't look well, Monkey.'

Zac half shook his head.

Gwen tottered a few uncertain steps as if unsure where she was. Faces peered out of the dusty windows of the bus but the only impression Hannah could form was of blank looks of resignation. Gwen pointed back at her house and said something. She stood, as if waiting for instructions or permission. The spacesuit took her hand again, stroking the back of it, and gently pulled her forward. Gwen climbed the bus stairs with effort. The doors closed with a hiss of air, and the bus rumbled off. Hannah saw a child's face looking from the back window.

Zac was grey and shocked. He pulled his face into an expression of resolve. ‘We should go play cards.'

‘Do you want to talk about this?'

‘Let's go play cards.'

Sean's voice was loud and exaggeratedly cheerful. ‘Two more punters to deal in.' Zac took a seat, subdued and distracted. ‘The game is Go Fish, Ella's house rules.'

Hannah gathered up all the cards and gave them a quick shuffle. She dealt around the circle starting with Ella. The gentle swish of the cards sliding along each other was obliterated by a noise that assaulted her ears. She leapt and fell sideways out of her chair, scared into incomprehension. The screamingly loud, familiar, unexpected, insistent sound of the phone ringing.

With as much composure as she could summon she picked up the handset and said, ‘Hello.' A phone call. The phone lines were back which meant the power was back. The internet was back. The computers. The fridge, if they had anything to put in it. The lights, no more shadows to skirt around at night. The outside world was back, talking to her down a long thin strand of copper. ‘I'm sorry, could you say that again?'

‘Is this Hannah Halloran?'

The first contact from the outside world turned out to be a cold call. ‘Who's this?'

‘My brother's name is Stuart. He's married to a Natalie.' The man on the end sounded as surprised to be talking to someone as she was. ‘Are you their neighbour?'

All that she could bring to mind were the stock phrases of loss from American television series. While she was still trying to think of a good way to say it, it was coming out of her mouth, ‘Stuart's dead.'

Sean leapt up, casting cards all over the floor. He pushed his chair back, making as much noise as he could. The kids were staring at him not her. Thank Christ they hadn't heard. ‘Come on kids, let's see if the TV is back.'

Oscar looked disapproving. ‘But what about music time?'

‘They have music on TV, Oz. We're going now, come on.' He shooed the two little ones to the door. Zac lagged after them but Hannah waved him away.

‘Are you still there? That was a terrible way to hear it. I'm sorry.'

‘I knew.' The man's voice was firmer, steelier in a way that made Hannah feel less appalled by what she had said. ‘You have my niece, Ella.'

Have, as if she was an object they'd borrowed from next door.

‘One of Natalie's colleagues rang me. They listened to her voicemail after she died. Did you know she died? They bothered to track me down and pass on Stuart's message. That he'd left their little girl with the neighbours. Didn't you think that someone might be looking for her?'

‘If you knew where she was, why didn't you come and get her?'

‘I'm over the bridge. You can't seriously think I'd cross quarantine lines. When the danger has passed, I'll come and
get Ella.'

‘So you're happy for her to eat my food and you're happy to leave her in danger.' She'd let Daniel go, she wasn't handing Ella over to a complete stranger, even one who said he was Stuart's brother. Especially one who was behaving like a jerk. ‘I don't know who you are. How do I know you're her uncle? I never heard Stuart talk about a brother.'

‘Go and ask Ella if she has an Uncle Dave.'

‘You could have got that from the net.'

‘I'm her uncle, who are you to her?'

‘I'm the person her father left her with. I'm the one who's here.' How dare he suggest that Ella was at risk with them, how dare he leave her there if she was. ‘I intend to keep looking after her until this is over. She's alive and she's well and she's happy. There are five people here and we're going to be fine. So you can convince me of who you are when it's all over. Until then, I'm going to keep on doing what I'm doing now.' She was breathing fast and felt light-headed from the oxygen. ‘I'm sorry about Natalie. She was a nice person. I liked her. And Stuart too.'

She hung up on a jerk who may or may not have lost a brother. Even jerks deserve to have their grief respected and it wasn't his fault that he took her by surprise. She wanted to cry. Either he was a crappy human being or she was. Or both. But they couldn't both be nice, at least one of them was wanting.

The kids moved feverishly from television to internet and back again. It was as if their brains, having been weaned off electronic information, couldn't take it in. On the morning of the third day, Hannah came across Oscar in the middle of the living room, spinning on the spot, sound system playing, TV on. Ella looked on vacantly bemused.

She shooed them out to the backyard and watched them play, leaning against one of the wooden posts that held up the patio roof. The winter sun soaked into her jeans but the breeze blew through her shirt. A flush rouged Ella and Oscar's cheeks, from exertion and the cold.

Sean ambled from the house. The smell of coffee that preceded him started a chemical chain reaction of craving. He nuzzled a kiss into her cheek, held the mugs right under her nose.

‘I put the kettle on. Aren't I clever?' He handed her one. ‘It's an amazing bit of technology. You put some water in and flick a switch. It turns itself off when it's hot. No matches and you can walk away with no fear of the house burning down. I like this electrickery.'