Aftermath

walls.
    Ainsworth, Bayliss, Field, and Jas were sitting around the paraffin heater, blocking most of the heat and making a hell of a lot of noise. The light was beginning to fade, but Zoe ws determined to finish the section of her study book she’d been working on all afternoon. It was a particularly complex, heavy-going section on the intricacies of one particular aspect of international commercial law, and it was quite possibly the most redundant topic she could have chosen to study. Much of it hadn’t even made sense to her when there’d been a corporate world left to apply it to.
    “Zoe, love,” Sue called from the kitchen next door, “give us a hand, would you.”
    Zoe looked over her shoulder through the connecting doors between the classroom, café, and kitchen which Sue had left propped open with chairs. As usual, she’d been preparing an evening meal for anyone who could be bothered to drag themselves over to the café to eat.
    “I’m busy,” Zoe shouted back. “Ask someone else. There’s four blokes in here all sat on their arses doing nothing. Ask one of them.”
    Sue walked over to the door. “I can’t do that.”
    “Why not?”
    She stumbled for an answer momentarily. “Because they’ve been working all day, that’s why.”
    “So have I.”
    “Yes, but what you’re doing is just for you. They’ve been doing stuff outside.”
    “So have I,” she said again, “and I’ve been doing this since I came in. I’ll ask them to help if you won’t.”
    “No, don’t. I’ll just—”
    It was too late.
    “Oi, Will,” Zoe shouted. “Sue needs a hand.”
    Ainsworth began a sarcastic slow clap.
    “Why don’t you help her, then?” Bayliss shouted back.
    “Because I’m busy.”
    “So am I.”
    “Doing what?”
    “Planning.”
    “Planning what?”
    “Can’t tell you.”
    “Doesn’t matter,” Sue said, sounding uncomfortable. “I’ll do it myself.”
    The men turned their backs on Zoe and Sue again, and continued plotting and laughing. Frustrated, Zoe stood up and shoved her chair back. It scraped across the floor, filling the classroom with ugly noise as she grudgingly went to help.
    *   *   *
     
    Fifteen mintes later, Sue was standing outside the café, repeatedly hitting an empty saucepan with a wooden spoon, a makeshift dinner gong. It felt good to stand out in the open and make such noise, liberating almost. After weeks of silence, being able to scream was a blessed relief.
    It took less than five minutes for virtually all of the people living within the castle walls to descend upon the café next door. Sue’s food, although nothing special, was warm and filling and it was genuinely appreciated. She served up with a certain amount of pride.
    With most people eating, the crowded room became relatively quiet. Jackson seized on the opportunity to speak.
    “I’ve been thinking,” he said, standing up. “Does anyone know anything about planting vegetables?”
    “You dig a hole, chuck a seed in, and it grows,” Ainsworth joked.
    “Well I had an allotment,” Bob began to say before he was interrupted by Jas groaning.
    “Bloody hell, Jackson, what are you on about now? We’ll be out of here by the time you can start planting.”
    “You might be, Jas, but some of us might decide to stay. I’m not sure what I’m doing yet. I’m just trying to start planning for the future. Looking ahead.”
    “Why would anybody want to stay here? And I’ve already told you, we don’t have a future. Not like that, anyway.”
    “We’ll have to agree to disagree, then, Jas,” Jackson continued. “I just think we need to start thinking about these things sooner rather than later because if we don’t we could end up missing planting dates and then—”
    “—and then we’d just have to keep looting from the supermarkets for another year. No big deal. We’ll be doing that anyway.”
    “But we need to think about our health. We’ll need fresh fruit and vegetables.”
    “We can get by with tins for now. Bloody hell, how many times do we have to have this conversation?”
    “Until we’ve found some answers. I don’t think things are as black and white as you see them. The fact remains, at some point soon we’re going to have to start fending for ourselves. You can put it off, but all you’ll be doing is delaying the inevitable.”
    “Whatever,” Jas grumbled, returning his attention to his food. “Depends on your definition of soon.”
    Jackson looked around