‘Everyone down on the floor,’ I ordered as I looked in the large mirrors and reversed with considerable difficulty.

It was easier said than done backing up the bus like that, with bullets whizzing all around–it was so flaming big! Luckily, the people firing at us were rotten shots and I managed to get out of the line of fire before getting pranged.

As soon as I could, I stopped, gently nudging a red telephone box, but considering everything it wasn’t a bad effort.

 

---

Chapter 10

Previously…

Soon we resumed our journey. All through our trip I had tried to avoid major towns, but it was getting hard to avoid them now.

We had arrived in area with lots of towns and I would inevitably have to go through at least a few, one of them being Huddersfield.

It was about mid day when we saw the buildings of Huddersfield in the distance. I was surprised to see smoke rising from several places and wondered what would cause such smoke now.

We came closer and then saw the bridge up ahead under which the River Colne passes. Across the bridge was some barricades made of doors, furniture, cars and other things. I slowed to a halt about fifty yards away and watched. Eve was standing by me and the others were breathing down my neck.

There was a sign, written on the side of a door in red paint.

‘What shall we do?’ I asked.

‘Go a bit closer?’ Sarah suggested.

‘No,’ said Eve, ‘you don’t know who it is behind there.’

‘We need to get north somehow, maybe we can find out a bit more. Tell whoever it is that we are just going through’ I said, starting to open the door. ‘I’ll just have a look––’

‘NO!’ Jeanie screeched, dragging me back as I heard the first shot, closely followed by several more.

‘Oh no, not again!’ I moaned as I crashed the gears into reverse and backed the bus away as fast as I could.

And now the story continues…

Huddersfield to Thrushwood

‘Everyone down on the floor,’ I ordered as I looked in the large mirrors and reversed with considerable difficulty.

It was easier said than done backing up the bus like that, with bullets whizzing all around–it was so flaming big! Luckily, the people firing at us were rotten shots and I managed to get out of the line of fire before getting pranged.

As soon as I could, I stopped, gently nudging a red telephone box, but considering everything it wasn’t a bad effort.

I switched off the engine and could feel the thumping of my heart as I sat, shaking like a leaf. After that, everyone realised that we were reasonably safe and came out of their hiding places. Ben began barking like mad and rushing up and down the centre aisle; that set off little Arthur–that boy had quite a set of lungs.

‘Are you all right, Allie?’ Jeanie asked, coming forward and giving me a hug.

I was still shaking; I thought I was tough, but it was all becoming too much for me. I began to cry and didn’t notice for some time how quiet it had become. Even the dog and baby had piped down somewhat.

Fumbling under my skirt with my right hand, I pulled my hankie out of the leg of my knickers and had a quick blow. Sniffing, I turned to look at the others who were pointedly not looking at me and just talking among themselves–all except Martina who was doing her usual trick of staring vacantly out of the window.

‘Feeling better?’ Jeanie asked, smiling.

‘Aye, a wee bit,’ I sniffed.

‘I think you’re tremendously brave, you know. You saved us by getting out of there before one of those bullets hit us.’

‘Maybe,’ I replied.

‘We have to decide what to do next,’ Jeanie, ever the practical one, continued. ‘I suggest we find somewhere away from here and then we can have something to eat and drink. After that we can pore over the map and find an alternative route.’

‘Alright,’ I said, and trying to sound normal, continued; ‘Pass right down the bus, if you please, ladies, everyone in your seats please, we’re off again!’

My mimicry of a bus conductress was my attempt to sound cheerful, but even so my insides were still like blancmange–all wobbly. Eve squeezed my arm as she sat behind me and Jeanie was next to me.

We were off again and I went back down the road we had recently come up. After about ten minutes, I found a wide patch of short grass and pulled Bessie the Bedford over to the side.

After some hot tea and biscuits, I was more myself again. I was surprised at how emotional I was. I was never one to blub much as a boy, but now, things were different. I had to accept that girls were a different species to boys with different ways of dealing with things. I wondered if the other ex-boys felt the same. I decided I would–when I got the chance–try to find out.

We discussed what might have happened in Huddersfield. The warning sign said something about a disease area.

‘D’you think that they really did have disease in the town?’ Eve asked.

‘Don’t know’, Sarah replied. ‘Why would they lie about it?’

‘Maybe it was just a warning to keep people out?’ Jeanie suggested.

‘Maybe,’ I replied, ‘mind you, all the adults we have seen apart from that man in the hospital were as nutty as fruitcakes.’

‘How do you know it was adults?’ asked Sarah.

‘I don’t know, I just assumed.’

‘Sarah has a point,’ said Eve, ‘we didn’t see anyone back there–or at that other place where someone was taking pot-shots at us.’

‘True,’ I said, considering it, ‘I must admit that I’ve thought about getting hold of some guns–just in case.’

‘I hate guns,’ said Sarah, shivering. ‘Daddy used to go and shoot rabbits for the pot–I never did like eating bunny rabbits.’

I glanced at Nicola, who was throwing a ball for Ben to catch while Martina looked on, disinterestedly.

‘Anyway, we must decide where we’re going,’ Jeanie said. ‘That’s your department, Alex.’

‘Alright,’ I sighed getting up, brushing the damp grass off my skirt and thinking how silly I was to sit on the damp ground.

I went to the bus, climbed in the driver’s seat and pulled out the AA map book that had been so useful to us. The problem was that there were so many big towns around us: apart from Huddersfield, there were others, like Dewsbury, Halifax, Wakefield, Leeds and Bradford.

In the end I decided to backtrack, go along the A62 to Delph, turn right onto the A6052 and make our way to Hebden Bridge from there. It was a long way round, but at least we would avoid the bigger places doing it that way. The trouble was, we needed to find a doctor’s surgery or hospital for supplies and also I wanted to fill up with petrol. We still had three quarters of a tank, but we didn’t know what the situation was like ahead and we couldn’t afford to be stranded somewhere that we might not be able to find a pump.

While I was wool gathering and map reading, Jeanie, Sarah and Eve were sorting out the younger kids. I was beginning to wish that our little bus had toilet facilities; using a convenient bush wasn’t exactly pleasant. That was another thing about boys; at least they could just point and shoot! Thinking about shooting made me shiver again. It had been a close-run thing on the outskirts of Huddersfield.

Twenty minutes later, we were on our way again. I had hoped to get a serious number of miles under our collective belts today, but I was much more concerned about our safety and if that meant not getting as far as we would have liked, then so be it.

~ §~

After the Huddersfield incident–doesn’t that sound like the title of a thriller?–for once things went more smoothly for a while. We made good time and didn’t experience any nasties on the way. It wasn’t as bad as I thought, as it was only about another 15 miles further than our original route to reach Hebden Bridge in the Upper Calder Valley. We stopped for lunch by the canal at Hebden Bridge, the Tilley stove working overtime to give us some spam, tinned potatoes and peas. We washed our feast down with orange and lemonade and then sat for a while to enjoy the peace.

It was very quiet sitting there by the canal. There were no dogs or cats to see, nor birds for that matter. The human population wasn’t very evident either. We saw a milk float on the way into the place with the milkman slumped over the wheel and nearby was a policeman lying by his bike; he seemed to be asleep but, of course, we knew differently.

I noticed Martina sitting by herself on a bench a little away from us. Sarah was changing Arthur and Eve, together with Jeanie, was putting the things away in the back of the bus. I went to Martina and sat down beside her. She hadn’t spoken a word yet and I was getting really worried–as I knew the others were too.

Her hands were shaking and I took hold of them with mine.

‘Pretty rotten isn’t it? Just a few days ago we were all happy, going to school–though school can be pretty bad when you have a lot of homework–still, it was good that you had friends around you. Then this happens and the rug gets pulled out from under you. You saw your mum and dad die. It must have been awful. At our school, many of my friends, including my best friends Tony and Steven died too. Jeanie’s and my parents are up in Scotland, and for all I know, may be dead. That’s what’s eating me up–not knowing. Eve lost her mum and dad, and Nicola not only lost her parents, but her baby brother, too. And then there’s the fog and the fact that one day we are boys and the next day, girls. Do you mind being a girl?’

I watched her: she didn’t say or do anything, just carried on staring at the water of the canal.

‘I minded a lot at first; I couldn’t believe it when I was changed. At first the clothes felt funny, but they are only clothes, and none of my boys’ things would fit me properly anymore. Then, I realised that being a girl wasn’t too bad. I was still the same person inside who likes rugger and cricket, and would love to play with my train set again. Well I can play with anything I like. None of that boy-girl stuff matters anymore. So I’ve accepted who I am. We need all the help we can to get through this. We are all one family now and we need you to do your bit and help. Will you help us?’

Once again there was no reaction, and I just sat back and sighed.

The others re-boarded the bus and were watching us. I think they realised that I was trying to bring Martina out of herself and left me to it.

Turning to look at the canal, I grimaced as I saw the body of an old lady drift past us. She was bloated and looked faintly ridiculous, almost like a dummy out of a shop window–all stiff with one arm up in the air, almost as if she was waving at us.

I jumped slightly as I felt Martina’s hand move and then close on mine. I looked at her; she was crying softly.

Leaning over, I hugged her as she let it all go. We sat there for about ten minutes as the tears and sobs racked her body, making my blouse quite wet. Her shuddering sobs slowly faded and then she fell silent again. Then after a few minutes she pulled away from me slightly and gazed at me. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were puffy from crying.

‘Alex,’ she whispered.

‘Mmm, yes, honey?’ I said, moving some long hair away from her face.

‘I–I–I––’

‘–What is it, Martina?’

‘I–I–I h—hate being–M—Martina––’

‘–Oh, honey, you’ll get used to being a girl–’

‘N—no, it’s n—not that, though skirts are a bit draughty, and it’s queer not having a willy. I—it’s that I don’t like the name; p—please c—c—can I be Julie?’

I gazed at her: she seemed so serious, as if it was the most important matter of the moment and not the dire straits we were in.

‘I think Julie’s a great name. Shall we go and tell the others?’

She nodded, wiped her eyes with a sleeve and then smiled shyly.

We stood up and I took her hand and walked back to the bus. Sarah was staring out of the window and appeared to be distinctly worried.

We boarded the bus with everyone, including Ben, watching us–except Arthur who was blowing raspberries and giggling to himself.

‘Your attention please, girls, I have an announcement to make. Martina is no longer with us and I would introduce you to a new member of our family–Julie. Come along, everybody, give her a clap of welcome!’

And that’s what we did. Julie smiled and then went over to her sister and gave her a big hug. I got back into the driver’s seat and started up; it was time to be off again!

~ §~

It was nearly 70 miles to Kendal, and I hoped to get at least that far before having to stop for the night. We set off on the A6033 heading towards Keighley–one small town that we had to pass through to get where we were going. I hoped against hope that there were not going to be any more roadblocks along the way. I estimated that it would probably take about two hours to get there, barring incidents, of course.

Jeanie started up a sing song to cheer everyone up with the usual favourites, Ten Green Bottles, She’ll be Coming Round the Mountains When She Comes and There Were Ten In The Bed, being the most popular.

I was driving along, singing with the rest and noticed a car in the distance coming towards us at speed. I stopped at the side of the road and the singing gradually stopped as everyone noticed the car too.

It was, for once, a fairly straight stretch of road and I could see that the car was being driven rather erratically, weaving from one side of the road to the other. In moments it was up to us and I thought, horror-struck, for an instant, that it was going to crash into us, but at the last second, it swerved away and carried on down the road.

As the car passed I caught a fleeting impression that a man and a woman were inside, struggling with the steering wheel and screaming at each other, although I couldn’t hear them.

The car careered round a bend and, as I got out of the coach, I thought that I would hear a crash or explosion at any moment, but all I heard was the screaming engine fading in the distance.

I boarded the bus again and looked at the others. ‘Phew, that was close; d—did anyone see their faces?’ I asked.

‘I did,’ Eve replied, ‘they looked a bit loopy to me. What is going on?’

‘I don’t know, but until we do, we’ll steer clear of any grown-ups. I would just like to see one that isn’t off his or her head!

~ §~

We reached Keighley in good time. The town is at the south end of the Pennines and is near Bradford. I was more than a bit concerned that we might encounter some trouble there. The omens were not good, because we saw several bodies in cars that obviously had stopped suddenly or crashed. In addition to this, there were several bloated and dead cows lying in the road, and I had the sickening job of driving over one of the bodies as there was nowhere else to go. As we approached the town, I noticed that it had rained quite heavily recently. The roads were very wet and there were pools of water everywhere.

We found ourselves in South Street, and the river had burst its banks there. Luckily, it was shallow enough for us to drive through slowly. The smell was vile as there were a number of human and animal bodies floating about. Overhead the sky was dark and looked full of rain. I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, but we had to be careful as we were concerned that the bus might stall in the water, leaving us up the creak without a paddle!

Away in the distance, the hills were shrouded in mist–not green fog, thank goodness–but a sort of Scotch mist that promised more bad weather soon. As we made our way along the high street, I searched for a gunsmith, but didn’t see one. Mind you, I didn’t much fancy wading through water to get into any of the shops anyway.

However, we did come across the rather grand sounding Keighley and District Victoria Hospital where we were able to stock up on fresh oxygen cylinders and several more masks.

~ §~

Twenty minutes later we were through the town and out the other side, heading towards Skipton. The weather came down again and it started raining heavily. The windscreen wipers weren’t fantastically good, but with either Eve or Jeanie sat on the front passenger seat beside me, we were able to navigate around any obstacles we came across, including a tree which had fallen across the road, just leaving a tight gap for us to squeeze through while we all held our breaths.

Cresting a rather long hill, brought the small town of Skipton into view in the distance. The clouds had started to break up now and we could catch the occasional glimpse of blue sky up ahead. Presently it was bright sunshine and the wipers could have a well earned rest.

Skipton is a lot smaller than Keighley and is dominated by the castle. But this isn’t a travelogue and you can always get a book if you want to find out about it, and if you can find a library that is still standing.

The town is on the edge of the Yorkshire Dales though and it reminded me of camping holidays we had around the area before all the bad things happened. Happy memories like that were in the far distant past as we tried our hardest to make sense out of the disaster that had befallen us. We didn’t stop in Skipton though, as I really wanted to get as far as possible before we had to stop.

We had to stop for a toilet break near the small village of Cleatop. We were all crossing our legs by now and there was dissention in the ranks; so I had to park up and let everyone rush off in different directions to answer the call of nature.

While the others were doing things in the bushes, I went to Julie, who was holding Arthur. She smiled as I came up.

‘How are you doing, Julie?’

‘Not bad. Arthur’s adorable, isn’t he? He smiled at me just now.’

‘Probably wind.’

‘Mmm.’

‘Are you feeling a bit better?’

‘Yes, I suppose so. It all seemed a bit like a dream before. Now it’s more real. Do you know what I mean?’

‘Yes, it’s all a bit of a nightmare, isn’t it? We have to muddle through though.’

‘Yes. Do you want to hold Arthur?’

‘No–well, maybe–all right, I will.’

She gave me the squirming baby and went out to find herself a bush.

I held him as if he might break at any moment. I was so scared that he might squirm out of my arms and drop on the hard floor. Then he gazed at me, seemed to focus his eyes and smile.

He held my little finger in a grip that would do justice to a wrestler and I smiled, all thoughts of dropping him flying out of the window. He was a gorgeous baby. I was still bemused that he hadn’t turned into a she. Let’s face it; he’d had plenty of chances, if that was the word, to be transformed like the rest of us. Another mystery about the fog to which we hadn’t fathomed an answer–

‘That’s nice.’ I looked up and discovered a grinning Jeanie gazing down at me.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, you haven’t exactly been involved with Arthur up to now, and here you are cooing like mad and making faces at him just like the rest of us girls.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘No, you don’t do you? Anyway, the others are coming back. Do you think we’ll reach Kendal by the time we have to find a place to stay?

‘Well, I think that it’s about 50 miles, and if we don’t have to stop any more we should be there by about three.’

‘Okay, give me Arthur and you can go and have a wee; then we can be on our way again.’

‘I think his bum needs changing.’

‘You could have done it.’

‘Sorry, maybe next time,’ I said as I passed him to her. It was strange, I felt quite reluctant to hand him over; perhaps I was going slightly soft?

I found a convenient bush and did the necessary. I can’t say I enjoyed the way I had to go now and wished that there was some easier way. I never appreciated a proper loo before, but would do so in future, that’s for sure!

~ §~

We carried along the road towards Kendal with bright sunshine and pretty scenery to keep us company. The roads were quite empty, thank goodness and the only life of any description that we could see were the sheep on the hills; although many of them were lying down. I supposed that the grass would feed them and the pools of rain water would give them something to drink. Disease might have affected some of them, perhaps dogs or foxes coming up from the towns might pass on diseases and that could have been the reason for some of them lying down; there again, they might just have been chewing the cud, if sheep did that or was that only cows? Mind you, they might just be having a snooze.

Of course, all this time the others were on the lookout for green fog, but fortunately saw no sign of it. There were no other vehicles being driven on the road, making me wonder how many people were actually left alive. We had seen very few people on our travels. It was weird to inhabit a country lacking people. Every town, village and hamlet we passed through seemed to be devoid of human life. We saw plenty of animals, like dogs, cats, rabbits and a few foxes; not forgetting the birds; but no hustle and bustle that brought these places to life. Of course I slowed down whenever we passed through inhabited areas and I beeped the horn, but nobody came out. Mind you, I was kind of wary because we had been shot at twice now and been attacked by a nut case with a long knife.

We had planned to avoid Kendal, but felt that we should at least see if there were any signs of life. We had hopes even now that there might be pockets where the fog had not penetrated and more people would be alive.

In previous times Kendal was a fine place, and I recognised the town from when we had camped nearby. It is at the southern end of the Lake District and was normally very busy, especially so in the summer. Now it was a ghost town. A bus was on its side and a number of still forms inside showed how the town was hit probably during the day time. We passed the local junior school. It must have been playtime when the horror struck, and it was heartbreaking to see all those children who would never play again or have the chance to grow up.

As we got closer to the town centre we saw more signs of devastation with cars crashed into each other and many bodies, thrown through car windscreens or strewn on the pavement. We had to keep the windows shut, but even then the smell seeped into our bus.

Packs of dogs roamed the streets but they looked unwell and rather lethargic, making me wonder if there was dysentery or other awful things about. We didn’t stop but kept going. The site of that silent playground would haunt me for the rest of my life and I know the others felt the same.

~ §~

We departed Kendal via the Windermere Road, picking up the A591 after a few short minutes and luckily managed to find a petrol station almost immediately. We took the opportunity to fill up the tank with petrol.

We were soon on our way again and found ourselves driving along by the side of Lake Windermere, heading ever northwards. Despite our detour into Kendal, we were making good time. We were all rather quiet by then–the visions of that town still fresh in our minds. Being winter, the sun was low on my left, and at other times I would have appreciated the sun reflecting on the water, but for now, all I wanted was to get to our destination without seeing any more ghastly sights.

We passed Rydall Water and Grasmere, going ever northwards towards Scotland, which was still a fair distance away. I really hoped we would reach Scotland in the next few days though, and that gave me a sense of purpose that I needed to keep my thoughts turning to despair.

Eventually we arrived at Keswick and skirted the town. Following our experiences in Kendal, none of us had the stomach to see more tragedy. We picked up the A66 for a few miles and then turned left on to the A591, looking all the time for likely places to stop for the night. I wanted to stop as soon as possible, because I was now very tired from driving, and emotional about the horrors we had seen today. Jeanie and Eve looked in several houses and cottages we came across on the way, but none were suitable, as either they found nasty things in them or didn’t command decent views all around–essential for us to keep track of any imminent fog attacks.

Eventually, we passed through a little hamlet called Thrushwood and found a house on a hill. It was empty and didn’t look as if it had been lived in for a while. It had the advantage of a good view and it was dry, with no bodies lying around, so we parked up, got everything we needed from the bus and made ourselves comfortable for the evening and night.

I was so tired, I just plonked down on an overstuffed armchair in the front room and promptly fell asleep. When I awoke, it was dark outside and I could smell chips being fried. Rubbing my eyes, I followed my nose into the kitchen where everyone was gathered. The room was lighted by several candles–the electricity being off of course. Over in the corner was a huge black coke burning, Aga-type cooker, which radiated a lot of heat. Sarah and Jeanie, being the only natural born girls, were doing the cooking. We ex-boys were hopeless at that sort of thing, but we had been given less than subtle hints that we had to start some girl-type chores or be in big trouble–talk about hen-pecked!

For now though everything was fine and we were soon tucking in to some Fray Bentos tinned steak and kidney pies with chips and baked beans–or “fartleberries”, as Sarah called them.

Arthur had some gloopy stuff like sardines and porridge. He seemed to enjoy it though, so who was I to complain? The only thing I didn’t fancy was changing his nappy when all that gungey went through him.

As I ate, I gazed across at the rain-lashed windows, and realised that we were lucky in a way to be in this area, because at this time of year it was normal to have rain and strong winds. This was to our advantage because the green fog couldn’t drift in and get to us if the weather was bad. Of course we would check regularly and keep our usual overnight watch, but I had hopes that we would at least get a respite from the fog–for a while anyway.

After our splendid meal, which was finished off with tins of rice pudding and peach halves, we went into the front room, leaving the kitchen door open so the heat could circulate around the house.

We decided to kip down in the front room as there was plenty of room. We decided for once to get undressed for bed, so it was long cotton nightdresses all round. My nightdress felt strange on me but somehow very nice and comfy. Much more comfortable that wearing day clothes in a sleeping bag.

We dug out our sleeping bags and climbed into them. Nicola was soon asleep, joining Arthur who was already in the land of nod in his makeshift cardboard cot lined with blankets.

Sarah was next to Julie, who had gradually perked up during the day, despite all we had seen. She was still quiet, but seemed to be coming out of her shell a bit. Sarah was the strong one of the two and seemed fearless and full of get-up-and-go.

‘Well,’ she said after a while, ‘how long will it take us to get up to Scotland?’

‘Well,’ I replied, ‘the border’s not all that far, but we’ve about 180 miles after that, so we should do it in a couple of days if we are lucky and don’t meet any disasters.’

‘Could we do it in a day–if we got up early?’

‘No, it’ll be a couple of days,’ I replied, ‘it’s hard driving the bus, and it was designed to be driven by a much bigger and stronger person than me. The backs of my legs ache enough as it is.’

‘I could drive,’ she said boldly.

‘Och don’t be silly,’ said Jeanie,’ you are smaller than Alexandra and her legs only just reach the pedals.’

‘I suppose,’ she sighed. ‘Mummy always says that I’m impulsive––’

A sad look flickered across her face and it was good that Eve spoke up just then.

‘Well, I think that Allie has done a great job driving. I wish I could drive, but I’ve got two left feet so we would probably crash in the first hundred yards!’

We all laughed at that–even Julie–and I changed the subject.

‘I wonder what things are like in other parts of the world, or is it just here; the fog I mean?’

‘I don’t know,’ Jeanie replied, ‘remember the police station when we picked up that foreign sounding lady on the short wave wireless?’

‘Aye, I wasn’t sure about the accent; it might’ve been French, but she was speaking quickly and it wasn’t a very clear signal.’

‘I think that it’s everywhere,’ said Eve.

‘Why?’ asked Sarah.

‘Because we would have received help by now–from other countries I mean. You know, soldiers with gas masks, lorries, ’planes–stuff like that. We’ve only seen one light aircraft, so I don’t think that there’s going to be any help from anyone.’

‘Well, that means we’ll just have to help ourselves,’ I said boldly, feeling more scared than I sounded.

Eve got up and gazed out of the window. The rain was lashing against the glass and she had to wipe away condensation on the inside with a hand. ‘Rotten weather out there,’ she remarked.

‘That’s good,’ said Jeanie.

We all nodded as one.

Then we heard it–the sound of engines from the road outside. Jeanie, Sarah and I struggled out of our sleeping bags and ran to where Eve was peering out into the night.

There were headlights coming towards us–three sets. It was hard to see properly with all the rain spattering the windowpanes, but I think they were lorries. I had visions of their being Russian tanks after all our recent talk about other countries. For some time now I had had a sneaky suspicion at the back of my mind that all this might be some sort of terrible chemical weapon attack.

In seconds the engines’ noise became louder and the headlights brighter. They thundered past a few seconds later, confirming the fact that they were lorries. They were gone so quickly, we had no chance to see who was driving. Rapidly, the engine noises and the red tail lights disappeared into the distance, making me wonder if we had imagined it. Glancing at the others, however, it was obvious that it was neither a dream nor figment of my imagination: we had seen them and they were going the same way we would be heading tomorrow morning.

‘Maybe there is help,’ Sarah said, ‘at least we are not alone.’

‘Well, don’t forget we’ve been shot at–twice,’ Eve mentioned ominously. ‘I just hope that they are friendly, if–or when–we come across them––’

---

 
To be continued…
 

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My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, help with the plot-lines and pulling the story into shape.