It took him out of himself to accompany me on some of my foraging expeditions, and it pleased him that he could be useful in helping to move the heavier cases. He was anxious for books in Braille, but those, we decided, would have to wait until there was less risk of contamination in towns large enough to be likely sources.
The days began to pass quickly, certainly for the three of us who could see. Josella was kept busy mostly in the house, and Susan was learning to help her. There were plenty of jobs, too, waiting to be done by me. Joyce recovered sufficiently to make a shaky first appearance, and then began to pick up more rapidly. Soon after that Mary’s pains began.
That was a bad night for everyone. Worst, perhaps, for Dennis in knowing that everything depended on the care of two willing but inexperienced girls. His self-control aroused my helpless admiration.
In the early hours of the morning Josella came down to us, looking very tired:
“It’s a girl. They’re both all right,” she said, and led Dennis up.
She returned a few moments later and took the drink I had ready for her.
“It was quite simple, thank heaven,” she said. “Poor Mary was horribly afraid it might be blind too, but of course it’s not. Now she’s crying quite dreadfully because she can’t see it.”
We drank.
“It’s queer,” I said, “the way things go on, I mean. Like a seed—it looks all shriveled and finished, you’d think it was dead, but it isn’t. And now a new life starting, coming into all this…”
Josella put her face in her hands.
“Oh God! Bill. Does it have to go on being like this? On—and on—and on?”
And she, too, collapsed in tears.
* * *
—
Three weeks later I went over to Tynsham to see Coker and make arrangements for our move. I took an ordinary car, in order to do the double journey in a day. When I got back Josella met me in the hall. She gave one look at my face.
“What’s the matter?” she said.
“Just that we shan’t be going there after all,” I told her. “Tynsham is finished.”
She stared back at me.
“What happened?”
“I’m not sure. It looks as if the plague got there.”
I described the state of affairs briefly. It had not needed much investigation. The gates were open when I arrived, and the sight of triffids loose in the park half warned me what to expect. The smell when I got out of the car confirmed it. I made myself go into the house. By the look of it, it had been deserted two weeks or more before. I put my head into two of the rooms. They were enough for me. I called, and my voice ran right away through the hollowness of the house.
I went no farther.
There had been a notice of some kind pinned to the front door, but only one blank corner remained. I spent a long time searching for the rest of the sheet that must have blown away. I did not find it. The yard at the back was empty of trucks, and most of the stores had gone with them, but where to I could not tell.
There was nothing to be done but get into my car again and come back.
“And so—what?” asked Josella when I had finished.
“And so, my dear, we stay here. We learn how to support ourselves. And we go on supporting ourselves—unless help comes. There may be an organization somewhere…”
Josella shook her head.
“I think we’d better forget all about help. Millions and millions of people have been waiting and hoping for help that hasn’t come.”
“There’ll be something,” I said. “There must be thousands of little groups like this dotted all over Europe—all over the world. Some of them will get together. They’ll begin to rebuild.”