Aftermath

thinking about her and the baby at night, and I wake up every morning still thinking about them. But at the end of the day, me not being there isn’t going to make a massive amount of difference. It wouldn’t be the end of the world.”
    “You’ve missed that,” Harry mumbled. “That’s already been and gone.”
    Michael ignored him. This was serious.
    “What I’m saying is, there’s nothing I can do to help the baby be born, is there? I mean, I can do all the practical stuff and run errands and all that, but me being around won’t make a huge difference to Emma giving birth, will it?”
    “I think you’re doing yourself a huge disservice,” Richard said. “Your missus and your kid will need you. There’s another fifty bods back on Cormansey who can do chores and run errands, but you’re the only one Emma actually needs. You shouldn’t take any risks you don’t need to, that’s all I’m saying.”
    “But these are risks we do need to take,” Michael said. “Imagine the difference another ten or so folks will make on Cormansey.”
    “I understand what you’re saying, but I still don’t agree.”
    “Well, that’s how it is. I’ve made my decision. You’d all probably do the same thing if you were in my shoes.”
    “This is all very lovely,” Harte said cynically, “but it’s all academic anyway. How the hell are we going to get them out of the castle? Are we just going to stroll up to the front door and knock and ask if Jas will let them out?”
    “He’s right,” Richard agreed. “This is a fool’s errand.”
    “No, it isn’t,” Harry said from the corner. “I know exactly how we’ll do it.”

 
     
    35
     
    Caron and Lorna had been locked in the café kitchen to prepare the food Jas had ordered.
    “I’d piss in this if I wasn’t going to have to eat it myself,” Lorna said, seething with anger, barely able to keep calm. “Who the fuck does Jas think he is?”
    She stirred a vast pot of soup they’d bulked up with tinned vegetables. Caron was busy steaming a job lot of chocolate puddings they’d found in the stores. She hunted through various crates and trays for a box of catering–size packets of custard powder she was sure she’d seen recently.
    “Have you seen the custard powder?” she asked.
    “No, I haven’t seen any fucking custard powder,” Lorna yelled at her. “Fucking hell, Caron, there are more important things to think about right now than pudding.”
    Unfazed by Lorna’s outburst, Caron found what she’d been looking for. She dropped the box onto the table next to the gas burner she was using.
    “This should be nice,” she said.
    “Nice! For fuck’s sake, who gives a damn if the food tastes nice? Are you completely fucking stupid? Haven’t you seen what’s been happening around here? Jackson’s dead, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
    “Of course I’ve noticed,” Caron snapped, finally showing a little emotion. “Stupid thing to say.”
    “Then why are you talking about custard and things tasting nice? Our last decent chance to get out of this place disappeared this afternoon.”
    “I’m well aware of that, thank you very much.”
    “You don’t act like you are.”
    Caron stopped and stared at Lorna.
    “Getting shitty with me isn’t going to make any difference,” she said, instantly slipping back into “mother mode” and talking to Lorna the same way she used to try reasoning with Matthew, her late son. “I know exactly what’s going on. We are where we are, Lorna, and there’s absolutely nothing you or I can do about it for the moment. We need to make the most of what we’ve still got, because the way things are going, we might lose that tomorrow. Now, have you seen any clean bowls?”
    “No,” Lorna grunted.v height="0em">
    “I don’t know what’s wrong with these people,” Caron continued, conveniently forgetting the blatantly obvious fact that what was wrong with these people was that, through no fault of their own, their lives had been destroyed and that even now, several months further down the line, many of them were still completely fucking traumatized. Trivializing everything seemed to be helping Caron cope tonight. “I don’t know,” she grumbled to herself, “people help themselves, leave their dirty cups and plates all over the place, then moan at us when there’s none left.”
    “Am I supposed to care, Caron? Fuck ’em. I’ll ladle this shit into their bare fucking hands if they