Читать книгу The Realm - S. C. Loader - Страница 8

Chapter 2

The empty space that was once a station held them in a state of spellbound disbelief.

Richard summed up his thoughts as best he could under the circumstances, 'Fuck!'

Miriam voiced her assembled thoughts with a little more dignity, 'Ditto!'

'It was there, wasn't it?' asked Miriam after a few seconds of awe induced silence.

'If it wasn't, then I would like to know where you bought that fruit!'

Both looked at the plastic carrier bag Miriam was still holding, the only remaining physical proof of the station's previous existence.

Miriam's spare hand blindly found the sleeve of Richard's jacket and gripped it tightly, then she sidled up until the gap between them no longer allowed light to pass through.

'Where's it gone?' her voice now carried the note of fear rather than that of disbelief.

'Whole stations do not disappear in the blink of an eye,' an authoritative, matter-of-fact statement Richard hoped would allay some of her fear by restoring reason to the situation.

'Then what's happened to it?' she asked. 'Where did it go?'

Richard raised a hand and vaguely moved an extended index finger to the left, his eyes following in the same direction, then the finger moved to the right and again his eyes followed. He looked deeply contemplative and although Miriam urgently wanted her question answered she could see he was working towards an explanation if there was one to be found for this phenomenon.

'What's in that bag?'

She had not expected another question, 'Apples!'

'Are you sure?'

'I do know what apples look like!' she allowed one of the plastic handles to slip from her grip exposing the contents, twelve large green apples. 'Satisfied! Now, are you going to tell me where the station went?'

'Nowhere. It never existed.'

'What! Of course, it existed! Where did I buy these then?' the note of fear had now been replaced by one of annoyance.

'Look, I can't explain the apples, but the station I can assure you never existed, not here anyway.'

'Has your brain taken a holiday? Of course, it existed, you attacked a litter bin, I bought apples, we walked through it, we saw it with our own eyes. It was there!'

'The litter bin attacked me!'

'I don't care who attacked who! Just tell me where it went!' annoyance had become anger.

'Okay, I agree we saw it, felt it in various ways, heard it and even smelt it, but our senses can be fooled quite easily by someone with sufficient resources and a strong enough reason.'

'What are you on about?'

'Forget what your senses told you, apply your intelligence. Look at this site for instance.'

'What about it?'

'It isn't physically big enough to have held the station in the first place, not the one that we saw anyway. It's wide enough, but its depth is nowhere deep enough. Remember the passageway?'

'Of course!' she lifted and shook her bag of apples. 'Somewhat difficult to forget!'

'How long was it?'

'Quite long.'

'Exactly! A damn site longer than would fit into that space, this site would barely take a quarter of that passageway's length, agreed?'

A slow thoughtful nod accepted his argument.

'Here's another question for you, how many steps did we climb up to reach the passageway?'

'Not many, why?'

'The underground line we travelled on to reach this place is unique, under the city it is the deepest. So why should there be so few steps to reach the surface? At a guess, I would say there were no more than thirty, if you give or take a couple of steps either way that is equivalent to two flights of stairs in our apartment block. A rise of two floors from the deepest underground line in the entire network? I don't think so! Then, there was the direction of the train…'

'All trains move forward!'

'Not that direction! We stepped off the train, turned right and walked in an almost straight line to this point.'

'So?'

'That would mean the train travelled from the back of this site towards us, agreed?'

Miriam mentally worked on his suggestion and finally nodded in agreement.

'The sun is in front of us!'

'What has that to do with this?'

'It rises in the east in the morning, which means the train travelled from east to west, but the underground line that we use runs from the south of the city to the north, and even allowing for small deviations in that route I doubt there is a point anywhere along its entire length where it runs truly east to west!'

'Perhaps you're right, but we still saw it, we walked through it!'

'I think someone has played an amazingly clever and very elaborate trick on us, how I don't know, perhaps we were drugged, maybe even hypnotised, but I do know that the station we saw could not exist on that site.'

'Who would do such a thing and to us?'

'Pass! Ask me another.'

'Perhaps the Government, they can do all sorts of underhanded things!'

'Not this one,’ stated Richard assuredly, ‘they can't even agree on which day of the week it is and even if there was a secret department for this type of thing, why us? A senior sales representative from a company manufacturing office furniture and a…,' he hesitated over his own job title, knowing Miriam's dislike of it, 'and a debt collector in a bank's employment are not very likely candidates for a clandestine operation by either their own government or anybody else's.'

'Perhaps you inadvertently stumbled upon a secret that someone wants kept that way?'

'In my job, I deal with companies that are either bankrupt or are on the verge of bankruptcy and the plight of these companies is common knowledge. To fund such an elaborate trick as this would require financial backing on a major scale, they simply do not have that kind of money. Besides, an orchestrated accident would be far easier, cheaper and quicker.'

'Then who?'

Richard shrugged his shoulders, 'Beats me!'

'Could it be one of those stupid television programmes that like to set people up in ridiculous situations?'

'Even they have to work to a budget, think of the costs involved. Everyone we have seen or met today from the moment we walked onto the platform at Pilgrims Bridge station would have to have been an actor or an extra, including the children and that drunkard. Hiring an entire train, changing the signage at every station en route, and, and, and… the costs would have been phenomenal'.

'Why the signage?'

'Because we know which station follows which, after Culture Square comes City Centre, we saw a station we believed to be Culture Square and automatically knew ours was next. As all the stations look almost identical to one another and it's only the signage that helps you tell them apart, all they would have to do is change the signage and we're fooled!'

'That wouldn't work,' stated Miriam.

'Why not?'

‘Because we know the time and the distances involved. For us to end up in an unknown place, we would have to travel much further along our normal line and we would have noticed that, but what if we had been diverted onto another line, once underground one dark tunnel looks much like another.'

'Except that each line has its own colour designation and every station on that line is decorated in that colour, the paintwork, the wall and floor tiling, the litter bins, all the seating and more. Imagine the cost of changing all that and then back again once they had finished.'

‘If it were a disused line, it might be easier to dress up unused stations.’

‘Actually, you might have something there. If we changed lines, then that would account for why the sun is in the wrong place and why there were so few steps to reach the surface.’

Miriam's grip on his sleeve relaxed and for a few minutes, they stood silently staring at an empty, dusty piece of brick strewn waste ground basking in the morning sunshine. Their thoughts mulled over the things said and unsaid, it was one of the latter that eventually caused Richard to break their vigil.

A little apologetically he confessed, 'There is something else bothering me besides the station.'

Miriam's grip on his sleeve tightened, 'What?'

'Where are all the people?'

'If the station was a …'

'No, not there…’ corrected Richard, then pointing over his shoulder added, ‘here.’

Miriam released his sleeve and they turned around simultaneously.

Three bright green shiny apples rolled away from the dropped carrier bag and Miriam's trembling, two-handed grip on the other sleeve exposed the heightened level of terror induced by their new discovery.

Richard recovered his composure first, but not his sense of eloquence, 'Double fuck!'

Miriam recovered her eloquence, but not her composure, 'Double ditto!'

Sidling up against him as tightly as possible she asked an obvious question to which there was no obvious answer, 'Where is it?'

'God only knows!'

Miriam twitched and Richard flinched, but the hand of retribution remained tightly gripping his sleeve and her, 'Don't blaspheme,' lacked all of its usual venomous undertones.

'It was definitely there after the station disappeared, I was leaning against it when you tried to gain my attention.'

'Then where's it gone?'

'Sod the bench, where's our stuff gone? All my presentation notes were in that case!'

Miriam suddenly understood the implications of Richard's comment, 'My handbag! My attaché-case!'

'How did they make a bench disappear and everything on it without us noticing, we were only centimetres away?'

'They?'

'Whoever… and what on earth is this and how did it get here?' asked Richard craning his neck skywards.

Towering above them was a huge bare rectangular board supported on two large wooden upright struts, one of which stood roughly in the middle of the now non-existent bench.

'I don't know, I just want to get away from this place… look! Isn't that your pocket knife?'

'Where?'

'There, by that wooden thing.'

'Ah yes! I see it,' but trying to step forward proved difficult with a woman attached, 'you'll have to let go at some point.'

'Then you'll disappear and I'll be left here alone.'

'If that were their intention they would have done that while you were in the station and I was out here on my own.'

'They? Who are they?'

'Whoever!'

Miriam thought his statement over and reluctantly released her grip on his sleeve.

'It is mine, but how did it get here?' pocketing the knife he remembered the strange clunk he had heard earlier. 'It must have fallen out of my case unnoticed when I opened it.'

Miriam asked another obvious question without a correspondingly obvious answer, 'Why did they leave it behind? They took everything else.'

'They?' inquired Richard, grinning at Miriam.

'Whoever!' she tried but failed to return the grin.

Recovering the spilt apples, Richard delivered the replenished carrier bag back into Miriam's care, 'Actually, that is a very good question considering they even took the paving slabs.'

'Can we go, I don't like this place, it's scary.'

'I'm inclined to agree, come on,' taking Miriam's free hand, to which she raised no objection, he led her towards the road. Passing under the huge board Miriam twisted her head around to see what was on its street-facing side, a few steps later she asked Richard to stop when they reached the road.

'Why?' he asked, surprised that she would want to do anything that would delay her escape.

'There is something you have to see.'

Richard raised his eyebrows and grinned, but she wasn't looking at him and her hand gripped his so tightly her nails began to cut the skin.

The road was barely five metres away and reached quickly and as requested Richard stopped.

'So what did you want to show me?'

Miriam said nothing but pointed a trembling finger in the direction from which they had just come.

'Triple fu…,' the expletive died a quiet death.

The huge rectangular board was a hoarding, in this case advertising a forthcoming event.

'Opening soon…' Read the uppermost line of enormous lettering, underneath, in even larger, italicised print, 'Saint Catherine's Gates Station.' Then came an artist's impression of the proposed station frontage and in every detail bar one, it was identical to the one that had disappeared. The only difference between the imagined station and the experienced one was the sketched images of a small group of people, two adults and two children.

Underneath the drawing was a large, black rectangular block. A non-functioning display Richard judged by the words immediately to its right, '…Days to go.'

To the left at the very bottom of the board was the underground company's logo, a blue circle containing a white 'U' and its surrounding motto, 'Modern, Safe, Convenient.'

In the middle, the symbol of the underground line of which this station was to serve, a green square containing the white lettering 'U4' and finally the name of proposed builders of the station 'B.B & S' and their logo of a stylised motorway with a bridge crossing over it. A well-known and very respected company associated with many large civil engineering projects within the city.

The middle green logo caused Richard some consternation as it negated one of his earlier arguments. This was the line they used daily and it did run south to north, but the layout of the platform they experienced was definitely east to west. It made no sense, but then he felt none of this made any sense anymore.

In an attempt to hide his concerns and allay Miriam's fears he cheerily exclaimed, 'At least we know the name of this place.'

'I don't care what it's called, I don't like this place, I want to go… now!'

Richard cast an eye over the scene before him once again, only this time he was not looking for signs of human life, which still remained strangely absent, but for a way out.

They stood on the long side of a very large rectangle surrounded by buildings, the middle being an open space, mainly grass with a few trees here and there, a children's playground and a church. There appeared to be only two options, on both the short sides there was a road leading off.

'Which way, left or right?'

Miriam impatiently yanked him towards the right, with her nails still hovering only a fraction away from drawing blood he complied without argument. She was in a hurry to leave and the speed with which she proceeded to walk left him in little doubt she intended to achieve that goal within the shortest time possible.

While half walking, half running towards their exit, Richard spent his time alternating between his search for answers and the search for life, both proved fruitless. Miriam spent her time either checking over her shoulder praying there would be no more surprises or wiping away fear-induced tears.

With their exit reached Miriam's hand relaxed a little and the threat of drawing blood receded along with it.

'What's the name of this street?' Miriam asked a little breathlessly.

'Sorry, I only saw a sign for that place back there, not this one!'

'And…'

'Saint Catherine's Square.'

'Which district?'

'Didn't say, it was one of those old black on white signs, look at the next house plate.'

All buildings within the city carried a mandatory post office issued address plate. It incorporated not only the building or house number but also the name of the street and a number indicating in which of the cities twenty-two districts it was located. Even the sign bearing the street name contained the district number and were, like the address plates, also white lettering on a blue background making them easily seen. Officialdom had provided, albeit unintentionally, a combination that was a godsend for lost motorists or those fleeing from vanishing stations.

They walked past a good number of buildings, both large and small, but none of them displayed the obligatory address plate. Annoyingly there were no other side streets leading off of theirs and therefore no helpful street signs either. A T-junction loomed shortly ahead and another directional decision would soon be required, but without knowing in which district they were their choice would be little more than a wild guess. As they arrived at the T-junction they stopped to visually search the walls on either side for a street sign, again there were none.

Miriam turned to look back down the street they had just walked, quite what she was expecting to see she kept to herself, but whatever it was, it was evidently not there as the relief clearly showed in her face. Richard glanced down it as well, his line of sight like Miriam's finished at the only bend in an otherwise straight road, there was nothing untoward to be seen and the same relief that Miriam had felt ran through the entire length of his body. Miriam, confident that their troubles were behind them and not following on foot, released Richard's hand.

An odd click drew Miriam's attention, 'Where did you get that?'

Richard had lit and was smoking a very dishevelled looking cigarette. The sad remnants of one he had taken from his packet earlier and had been carrying around in his hand ever since.

Looking scornfully at him Miriam opened her mouth to say something, but let it pass unsaid.

Now aware of the weight of the apples she gently placed the carrier bag down, already bruised from one fall to the ground she did not want them to end up looking like someone had played football with them. Still, with a wary eye on the street they had just walked down, she slipped the cigarette from Richard's mouth, took a deep draw on it, held it and slowly exhaled. Richard, also with one eye on the street, waited patiently for the return of his one and only cigarette, after a repeat performance by Miriam his patience was rewarded.

Miriam feeling safe with Richard keeping an eye on the street turned and walked out into the middle of the junction. His cigarette finished, Richard picked up the apples and followed asking as he approached her, 'Left or right?' She failed to answer. Drawing level it was evident why tears were streaming down her face. He tried to console her, 'It's over, finished, it's behind us now, come on let's find our way home.'

Miriam turned to him and buried her face deep into his neck, something she had not done for well over a year, with his free arm around her, he hugged her reassuringly tight.

While he waited for her tears to pass and her composure to return he cast an eye around their current location.

Bright green shiny apples rolled in all directions.

***

With his head turned uncomfortably over his shoulder Richard searched the façade of the building to the left of the side street they had just walked down, then the one to the right and found high up on its wall the very thing he had sought, but had hoped not to find, an old fashioned black on white street sign, 'Saint Catherine's Square.'

His logic told him that this was impossible and drawing a sobbing Miriam into the security of a two-armed embrace, he set about finding a rational solution to yet another inexplicable event.

The outcome of his internal debate was not only a solution to this latest unnerving experience but also answered another question that had been niggling away inside his head almost from the moment he set foot outside the station, where were all the people?

As a softly spoken, 'Miriam,' drew no response, he tried whispering with cheery affection into her ear, 'where's my little Snapdragon?'

This was his adopted pet name for her, originally it was her father's and it should have pre-warned him about her disposition, but did not. Love, it is said makes one blind, he found there was some truth within this adage.

A flushed, make-up smudged face suddenly reappeared, her teary eyes narrowed, 'Don't call me that, you're not my father and you will never be half the man he was.'

'You may have been right in what you said earlier.'

'About what?'

'About the television programme.'

'What of it?'

'This type of programme amuse their audiences by placing innocent victims in either improbable or impossible situations, blind saleswomen do not work on make-up counters and a normal family saloon car does not take four hundred litres of petrol.'

'But you discounted that earlier.'

'I know, but hear me out. We both know that the only possible way we could leave this place via its northern side street and return via its southern side street by walking a straight line would be if we walked around the entire circumference of the globe, agreed?'

Miriam nodded.

'As we have not walked around the entire planet in less than five minutes, then the only other possibility is if the illusion of straightness could be created, but this would still require an enormous arc not to be noticed. This side street we came down is dead straight apart from that slight bend in the middle and is far too short to recreate that illusion.'

'So!'

'I think we are the victims of a practical joke, like those in the television programmes. We are meant to believe in the impossible, we are meant to believe that this is the same Saint Catherine's Square as the one we just left, but it isn't! It's a duplicate!'

Miriam quizzed him with doubtful eyes then pointed across the square, 'And if we walk down that road over there again and find another? What then?'

'They can't go on building duplicated sets one after the other indefinitely can they?'

'They?'

'Whoever!'

'What makes you think it's a set?'

'Listen, what do you hear?'

Miriam listened, 'Nothing,’ she said and after a very long pause, 'nothing at all!'

'Exactly, that's what I was about to tell you earlier, just before the bench did its vanishing act on us. I don't think we're in the middle of the city at all and all this is nothing more than an elaborate film set.'

'Your brain has taken a holiday… a very long one!'

'Then can you explain how you could silence three and a half million people all at the same time?'

'You can't!'

'Not only that but how do you stop all the traffic and every machine that makes a noise in a city of this size?'

'Perhaps the city has been evacuated?'

'To evacuate a city of three and a half million people in the time it took to travel from Pilgrim's Bridge to this place, wherever it is, would take nothing less than a miracle.'

'So you think this is nothing more than a giant film set?'

'Use your own knowledge of the city. Which station follows ours?'

'The next station after City Centre is… Millennium Tower.'

'Millennium Tower is only half a kilometre from City Centre and lies north of it, the morning sun is over there in the east, so directly in front of you is due north, what do you see rising above the roofline over there?'

'Nothing!'

'Now ask yourself why we can't see a two hundred metre high, fifty-one storey building, when at most, we're no more than a kilometre from it?'

'Okay, you've made your point, but I do see a fault in your theory about not adding duplicate sets one after the other indefinitely.'

'Which is?'

'If they build them in a circle! We could walk forever and never come to the last one!'

'They?' he asked with a grin.

'Whoever!' she answered ignoring it.

'Actually… I think you're right!'

'Why?'

'Look back down this side street, it's more or less at ninety degrees to the square isn't it?'

Miriam nodded.

'The side street on the other side of the square is also more or less at ninety degrees to the square as well.'

'So?'

'Then we should be able to see straight through, but we can't because there is a bend in the middle of it, which means…'

'Each subsequent set is angled slightly differently to the previous one.'

'And with enough sets that would form a circle!' suddenly he snapped his fingers and a bright knowing smile filled his face. 'Would you say the bend in the side street is about forty-five degrees?'

Miriam shrugged her shoulders, 'About that I suppose.'

'Then they would only need to build a maximum of eight sets to form the circle.'

'How did you arrive at that conclusion Einstein?'

'Forty-five degrees multiplied by eight equals three hundred and sixty degrees,' adding after another quick calculation, 'and if the angle of the side street is even more acute, say sixty degrees, then they would only need to build six sets to form a circle.'

While Miriam did the maths Richard picked up the spilt apples.

'Hey! You've forgotten the two over there by the kerb!' she indignantly informed him.

'I know, they're my proof!'

'Of what?'

'If we take the street on the other side of this square or even go back down this one again when we return to this spot on the next set they won't be there will they? Proving there is more than one Saint Catherine's Square and if we carry on walking through all the sets, we'll know we've come to the last one because we'll eventually end up meeting our two little green friends again!'

'True.'

'Which way do you want to go?'

'Over, it might be the exit from this… whatever it is!'

'Or the entrance if your circle theory stands true!'

From the middle of the junction Richard looked over his shoulder and noted the furthest building he could see down the side street, on the right-hand side was a pale yellow house with empty window boxes, he committed it to memory and they set off again.

They took the road around the left-hand side of the square, the only perspective of the set they had yet to see. Just before they entered the side street on the opposite side, Miriam suddenly swung around, waited a few moments, then turned back, 'Just to make sure!' she volunteered.

From the middle of this junction, Richard noted the furthest building he could see down this side street, on the left-hand side was a pale yellow house with dishearteningly, empty window boxes.

'Ready?' he inquired.

'Yes! I want to see what's at the other end and if I find those responsible for this there, then they're going to pay a hefty price for their insolence!'

En route Miriam stopped at one of the houses to look through the windows, Richard's inquisitiveness drew him to join her. There was furniture behind the two ground floor windows, its doorbell did not work and no one answered Miriam's knock on the door. The furniture did not cause Richard any concern, although it was definitely not to his liking, but the solid walls certainly did. Film sets were nothing more than an illusion, something false made to look real, this house was real, at least on the outside. He kept his concern fully to himself. Three more houses had the same problem with the non-functioning doorbell, no one answered Miriam's loud and persistent knocking, all viewable rooms had furniture and worrying, solid outer walls. While Miriam continued to satisfy her curiosity by peeping through windows, Richard's interest fell upon the disused fruit merchant’s shop, easily verified by the filthy windows and the empty interior. Outside the green and white awning had been left open, now tatty with age and a long narrow table stood under its window and thereon, a solitary empty wooden fruit crate. The shop window was where his interest really lay, it did not sound like sugar glass when tapped, although he did not actually know what sugar glass should sound like and neither did it flex when he leaned heavily against it. His concern was growing with each discovery.

Long before they reached the end of this street they could clearly see what awaited them, yet another Saint Catherine's Square, a Saint Catherine's Square with two bright shiny green apples lying up against a kerb.

Richard was incensed, 'The bastards!' Picking up the apples he threw them back into the carrier bag in a fury. Miriam a few paces behind remained silent, her colour drained face expressionless and her tightly clasped hands held under her chin as if praying.

'The bastards saw what we did, they've either moved them or put down another two in exactly the same spot.'

Miriam made no signs of having heard him or if she had, she remained unmoved by the allegation within his statement.

'We need to plant something they can't copy and hide it without them seeing.'

'There is no “they”.'

'Of course, there is!' an outstretched hand waved over the area where the apples had lain. 'Who on earth do you think put those apples there, Santa Claus?'

'You did! They're the same apples you spilt.'

'Now whose brain has taken a holiday? Common sense tells you these can't be the same apples.'

'Then explain this!' lifting the front of her foot she twisted it to one side.

'Christ! They even thought to move the cigarette end as well!'

'Don't…'

'I know, I know.'

'This is the same square, I know it.'

'Your university education was really wasted, wasn't it? Okay, if you believe that to be the case, explain how the basic rules of physics have been suspended? There is no power on earth capable of that!'

'Don't you use that sarcastic tone of voice with me! I know there is no power on earth capable of this, but there is another… above!'

With an exasperated expression Richard cast his eyes up skywards, then with a slow sad sympathetic shake of his head returned them to Miriam, 'We live in the twenty-first century my dear, the earth is not flat and we can't fall off the edge, it is not supported on the backs of a herd of elephants nor on the shoulders of an enormous muscle-bound man. Science has discovered how our lives are ruled and by what and God was definitely not on that list!'

Miriam said nothing as she walked past him snatching the bag of apples from his hand, but the harsh disapproving look in her eyes was enough for him to comprehend her thoughts.

'Right! Time to prove it one way or the other, you stay here. I'm going to go down the street on the opposite side of this square and if I return up this one here, then I'll concede it is the same square, but if I don't return via this street within five minutes, then I'll be waiting for you just here on the next set, proving I'm right. Agreed?'

'You're going to leave me here alone! Some husband you are!'

'Do you want this question answered or not?'

She thought through this question carefully, to prove he was wrong meant she would have to stay here alone and this place sent a cold shiver down her back, but if she did not, then she would have to put up with more of his ridiculous theories.

'Yes.'

'Then wait here, give me five minutes then come and join me,' and with a wagging finger added, 'and don't go talking to any strange men!'

'Why not? I might finally find a man worth talking to!'

Richard set off, leaving Miriam sitting on the kerbstone polishing one of the apples with the hem of her skirt.

Just before the church blocked their view of one another he gave her a little wave, she turned her back to him and took a bite from her apple, from this point he picked up his stride. Passing the disused fruit merchants his confidence in his own powers of deduction had begun to bring a smile to his face, passing at the pale yellow house with the empty window boxes that smile broadened considerably despite facing yet another Saint Catherine's Square, only this one did not have a young woman sat on the kerb eating an apple. He was right! Slowing his pace he sauntered to the end of the street and out into the open square, cheerfully jubilant.

'You took your time.'

He visually started with fright and his heart missed a beat.

Miriam, leaning against the wall to which the old fashioned street sign had been affixed, was still eating her way through the apple. With a note of fraudulent remorse, she asked, 'Sorry, did I scare my little debt collector?'

This really was Miriam, only she called him debt collector and in the privacy of their home, she liked to add the prefix of little to that title. It referred not to his one metre eighty stature, but to another part of his anatomy and despite its lack of truth, at least as far as he was concerned, she knew it annoyed him intensely.

Richard sat on the edge of the kerb, trying to understand how he had broken all the rules of physics in the time it had taken to eat less than half an apple.

A thin rustling white carrier shook before him, 'Do you want one?' asked Miriam.

'No!'

'Is my little debt collector going to sulk now?' she asked unsympathetically.

He snapped back, 'Don't push your luck woman!'

'Don't snap at me, I didn't bring us here, God did!'

'So where are we then? Heaven?'

'Heaven? No this couldn't possibly be heaven… you're here! I doubt even God would accept a backstabbing, adulterous, disbelieving know-it-all like you into heaven!'

'Then it must be hell as we're here alone together, Christ! I'm doomed to spend an eternity listening to your whining!'

Miriam's hand caught him squarely across the back of his head, 'Don't blaspheme!'

Some time passed in contemplative silences, eventually, Richard rose to his feet.

'Where are you going?' asked Miriam.

'There must be a way out, there always is, we just have to find it! Perhaps there's an alleyway hidden between the houses we haven't noticed, or maybe there's someone behind one of those doors who can help.'

'Go on then, I'll wait here.'

'Why are you so unconcerned about all this?'

'God has brought us here and here we are meant to stay. There is no way out and no one to help, we're alone!'

'That's defeatist rubbish!'

Miriam raised her eyebrows knowingly then laid herself out on the grass under the ever-increasing warmth of the summer sunshine.

Richard made his way to the east of the square. There was a continuous row of seven, three-storey townhouses from the southern side street until the south-east corner, then another fifteen until the site where the station had been. There were no alleyways and no one answered his hammering at the doors. Even the two corner houses were joined together preventing the possibility of gaining access to the gardens behind. The station site itself had been created by the demolition of four or five of the townhouses and was enclosed by the deep, three-storey sidewalls of the remaining houses on either side and a solid brick wall well over two stories high at the back.

From the left-hand side of the station site around to the northern side street, everything was identical to the first half, the number of houses, the lack of possible escape routes and anyone capable of answering a door. From the side street to the north-western corner were seven more three-storey townhouses, then ten more along its western edge until a small fully stocked grocer's shop which was closed. Nevertheless, this would prove useful for supplies in the eventuality of them being needed. Next door was a double fronted furniture shop, now he knew where all the ugly furniture had come from in all the houses they had looked in. There followed another four houses, then came a charity shop, another four houses until a unisex hairdresser and a tobacconist, both as far as he could tell were still trading, unlike the next establishment with a large “To Let” sign pasted to its window which definitely was not. The middle one of these three lightened his mood considerably. Ten more houses followed, inclusive of the fourth one which was in the midst of being demolished, its roof and part of the upper façade were missing and the front door and windows of the remaining ground floor façade were little more than empty hollows. Inside, the upper floors had been removed, but the rear and side walls still stood intact. After clambering over a large accumulation of demolition debris, he confirmed there were neither windows nor doors in the back wall and no escape route either. From the south-west corner back to the southern side street were six more townhouses and on the corner of the side street a bakery with its inner shutters drawn closed. Walking out of the square via the southern side street he counted the houses along its length, exactly forty houses along both sides, all dishearteningly three stories high. Reentering the square from the northern side, he walked around its western side, taking a second look at each of the shops before re-joining Miriam.

'Why are you grinning like a stupid little schoolboy?' she asked.

'Because I've just broken the rules of physics again, it's weird!'

'And did you find a way out?'

'We're not walking out of here that's for sure and unless we grow wings we're not going over the top of it either!'

Suddenly he was off again and Miriam watched with bemused fascination as he zigzagged around the perimeter of their small enclosed world. He stopped opposite the station site, played with something on the road for a while then moved on. He stopped again, this time on the opposite side of the square, fiddled about with something on the road until he appeared to lose his temper then headed back towards her, but instead of doing so, he wandered down the side street, only to return the same way a short while later.

Finally, he rejoined her.

'What was all that about?'

'We can't go under it either.'

'Under it?'

'The sewers! There are only two manhole covers, one on either side of the square and neither of the damn things will budge, they're jammed tight!'

'Did you really expect me to go crawling through a stinking sewer! It's bad enough having to live with something that crawled out of one!'

Miriam watched Richard huffily remove his jacket and his tie, which had remained perfectly in place the whole time, he discarded them with scant interest in where they fell and laid himself down on the grass.

'What are you doing now?' she asked.

'I don't know about you, but I'm going to lay here and wait. While I'm doing that I'm going to dream up some lame, but plausible excuse for being late for work.'

'Wait for what?'

He left the question unanswered.