The City

was crying again. Although he knew that he couldn’t do anything to relieve her pain and fear, and even though he knew he wasn’t the cause of her suffering, as the only adult around Jack couldn’t help but feel responsible and protective towards her. Cautiously he rested a gentle hand on her shoulder, and then reached across and pulled her closer. Half-expecting her to recoil and pull away, he was surprised when she did the opposite and leant her weight against him fully.
    ‘When is this going to stop?’ she sobbed, drawing her knees up and making herself as small as possible.
    ‘Don’t know,’ he grunted honestly.
    ‘But what caused it all?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ he said again.
    ‘Will it happen to us? Is it just taking longer for us to……?’
    ‘I don’t know, Clare,’ he sighed with a hint of resigned frustration clear in his tired voice. ‘I don’t know anything and I can’t give you any answers. I know as much as you do.’
    ‘But I don’t know anything,’ she protested tearfully.
    ‘Exactly.’
    A brief silence.
    ‘No-one had a chance, did they?’ she mumbled.
    ‘There wasn’t any time, was there? I mean, from the little I saw whatever it was that did all of this seemed to spread across the city like a fire. We don’t even know how far widespread this is.’
    ‘How far do you think it’s gone?’
    Jack stopped to think for a second. It was the first time for a day or so that he’d actually been able to stop and think about the possible extent of the disaster.
    ‘No idea,’ he admitted. ‘But if this was a local thing then you’d have expected people to have arrived to help us by now.’
    ‘Maybe they don’t think anyone survived?’
    ‘Possible.’
    ‘Or perhaps they can’t get here?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Maybe whatever it was that killed everyone is still in the air.
    Perhaps we’re immune to it and they can’t come here until it’s cleared?’
    ‘Don’t know. You might be right.’
    A difficult few minutes followed as both Jack and Clare stopped talking and withdrew to think about what had happened again. It was a natural reaction but thinking didn’t seem to help anyone. There were no easy answers and, even worse than the frustration of not being able to understand, thinking inevitably turned into remembering. And remembering hurt.
    ‘Do you like this sofa?’ Jack asked suddenly, making a deliberate attempt to start talking rubbish and stop trying to make sense of a senseless situation.
    Surprised, Clare managed half a smile.
    ‘Not bothered, why?’
    ‘Seen the price of it?’
    She was sitting on the price label. She sat up and looked at it.
    ‘Is that expensive? I’ve never had to buy a sofa.’
    ‘Expensive?’ he said, shaking his head in mock despair. ‘It’s outrageous. Me and Denise kitted out our whole house for just a little bit more than that. And that was a few years back. It’s this shop,’ he continued. ‘This shop was always for people that had money or those that thought they had.’
    ‘My mum liked this shop,’ Clare said quietly, still smiling faintly. ‘She used to bring us here when we were little.’
    ‘I think everyone’s mums used to bring them here.’
    ‘What, yours too?’
    He nodded and sat back in his seat.
    ‘Yes, been here for years this place has. It used to be the only place around that sold school uniform. I used to get dragged here once a year in the holidays to get kitted out. And shoes too. We used to get our shoes from here.’
    ‘Me
    too.’
    ‘Hated it. Me and my brother both hated it.’
    ‘Me
    too.’
    ‘You could see the other kids going through exactly the same thing. There would be loads of us all lined up against the wall to have our feet measured. And we’d all start the next school term with the same shoes…’
    Clare managed a stifled laugh and sniffed back another tear.
    ‘I’m tired,’ she said quietly.
    ‘Let’s go to bed,’ he grinned, shining his torch across the store to a line of seven double beds for sale.
    The survivors gathered their belongings and silently made their way across the shop floor to the beds. Jack found duvets and pillows from another nearby display and tore off their plastic packaging as Clare sat down on the bed in the middle of the row of seven.
    ‘You sure you’re going to be all right here?’he asked as he passed her a pillow.
    ‘I’ll be fine,’ she replied as she settled back and attempted to relax. ‘What about you?’
    ‘Oh, I’ll be okay,’