2. Back in the Flow

a bit later 30/10/08

We've been playing Mancala. I don't think we've quite got the rules right because now we've learned the best strategy, whichever of us starts always wins, reducing the challenge factor. I'll see if I can invent some new rules later. Anyway, the lack of challenge put B. in the mood for making music and me back in the mood for writing.

I can't believe I stopped without writing what happened next. It was criticism by B. of my literary style that put me off, but what's important is that I make the most of these next few days to get it all down. I can change it or get someone else to edit it later. As I always tell the children, don't let spellings etc put you off getting your ideas down. Good job this all happened in half term - I wonder what they'll do next week? Presumably someone (I keep wanting to write 'They', but it really isn't that sinister!!) knows who's stuck here and will let the people who need to know know. Actually now I think about it, someone does deserve to be termed 'They' - being stuck in the house for 10 days with no real explanation is one thing, but no phones! And how did they stop us getting a mobile signal? Now I think about it, that's really sinister and I might start getting cross and/or upset. But that isn't going to help and anyway when this is published, they'll have some serious questions to answer, so I'll stop worrying and get back to my story.

We sat and had tea and biscuits and talked through the rational explanation. We decided that we didn't need to cover the back windows, then ummed and aahed over 'is it better to watch a DVD and forget about it or to listen out for something happening?' and didn't decide, then we argued a bit because B. was dying to look out of the window and I was getting in a flap about it. In the end he did look out of the window and saw nothing at all and so we agreed we'd watch the DVD to stop the tenterhooks. We did that, and everything felt normal, but of course the film finished and we stopped feeling normal and started on the "It's been hours and they haven't told us anything, shall we look outside, we should phone someone, who? The Police?" conversation.

I've no idea why we didn't think of calling anyone before then, but we didn't. Of course then we tried and got a boooo, no, more of a beeeee - that sound when you dial a non-existent number and then we tried the mobiles and they said 'no signal' so we wandered round the house holding them in the air and shaking them and things. Still no signal. No internet connection either. At this point I realise I haven't thought to ring my family and start feeling guilty and panicky and cross in waves. Fortunately B. is still being the rational one and says they'll be fine, they won't even know there's anything to worry about and we'll be able to tell them once we've received 'notification'.

OK, Phew, worries over. We decide they won't do the loudspeaker thing late at night and go to bed happy in the knowledge that everything would be back to normal in the morning and we'd know what had been going on.

So, we get up next morning.

I woke earlier than I wanted to as usual and had that thing when you slowly remember the events of the day before. I decided not to think about it - one of my philosophies is that, as a general rule, worrying about things achieves nothing at all - and enjoyed the luxury of lying under the warm duvet without having to get up and go anywhere. It was really quiet, I suppose it usually is at that time in the morning - but we generally get the occasional car coming through. The birds were singing, though. I'm sure birds don't sing when there's a major crisis on. You'd think if mine and B's theory had been right we'd have heard a scuffle or shouts or something along those lines. Perhaps it all happened when we were watching the film/sleeping and we just didn't notice.

I got us tea and brought it back to bed. I might be on holiday, but B. still has to work. From home though and not till 9:00 so we can just relax.

Then we heard a noise outside the front door. The postman? I looked out the window because in all the excitement I've forgotten about the need for not looking out of the window and am assuming it's all over, while B. went down to see what came through the letterbox. It wasn't the postman. Instead it was a guy in one of those all in one white hooded suit things like they wear in 24 and ET. There were lots of them, walking behind a van, taking boxes off it and going to each house. My heart rate is going crazy at that moment, I have prickly armpits, cold sweat - make sure you can feel the sudden change in me at this point. They see me looking and gesture frantically for me to close the curtain. I hear the front door opening, I freak out, I shout to B. and leap out of bed.

I'm sure that he's about to be shot, contaminated, heaved onto the van. All the scenes your brain saves from films to play back with your best friend in place of the victim in situations like these.
Thankfully, as you'll realise, this was an overreaction and none of the above occurred.

There was a note on a printed postcard on the mat by the door -

Dear Resident,

Thank you for your compliance, we would like to apologise for any inconvenience caused. For your own safety and that of your family, please continue to cooperate with us by doing the following:

1. Quickly collect the parcel left by your door.
2. Immediately close and lock the door.
3. Seal any doors, windows and other openings (letter boxes, key holes, cat flaps) with the thick tape enclosed in the parcel.
4. Keep your curtains closed.

Due to a possible infection we have isolated your town for the next 10 days. This is a precaution and there is no need for concern. Loved ones out of your town are fine. No other towns are affected. We recommend that you keep a local radio station on for further updates, but will contact you close to the end of the 10 day period.

And so we complied and cooperated. You will want to know about the parcel and I am keen to tell you, tomorrow.