Civvy Street (20 page)

‘The forecast is for thunderstorms.’

Maddy stopped carving off some slices of meat. ‘Really? Much as I appreciate having a nice summer I could do with a night when I don’t feel like I’m sleeping in a sauna. And the garden needs a soak. A real bobby-dazzler of a thunderstorm is probably what we need.’

‘Be careful what you wish for,’ said Seb.

Maddy grinned. ‘I don’t think a thunderstorm will cause a disaster, though, do you? And even if it does, we know we’ve got an A-grade emergency planning officer in the area.’

*

By mid afternoon the heat was stifling and Maddy had finished typing up Camilla’s wretched minutes. She connected the laptop to the printer and while it spewed out page after page she got both the children ready to go out. She planned to deliver the minutes to Camilla and then take Rose and Nathan to the play park. All in all it would kill an hour, give the children some exercise and fresh air and, hopefully, make them sufficiently tired that, even given the sweltering temperatures, they would fall asleep as soon as she put them to bed. Maddy herself felt enervated by this relentless heat and didn’t fancy spending an evening dashing up and down stairs dealing with sweaty, uncomfortable, over-tired and miserable children.

It took longer than Maddy imagined to get the children slathered in sunscreen and ready to go out. Nathan in particular was especially awkward, not wanting to wear his sun hat, kicking off his sandals as soon as Maddy got them on and grizzling about anything and everything. At one point she considered sacking the whole idea and staying at home but she was sure the kids would love the play park when they got there. Finally she was able to grab the bundle of freshly printed minutes, stuff them in a carrier bag, which she hung on the back of the pushchair, and head out. Once in the open Nathan seemed to forget his bad mood and was happy to trot along by Maddy’s side as she pushed Rose. However, every few yards he found something to interest him – a fly on a fence post, a dandelion in the verge, the colour of a parked car – and they would have to stop until his curiosity or interest waned. Progress was slow but Maddy was in no particular hurry and it was too hot to rush anyway.

They dawdled along and Maddy thought she could hear the very faint rumble of a faraway storm. She looked at the sky but there was no sign of a cloud. The ground shimmered with heat haze and mirages but the sun blazed down with no sign of a thunderhead billowing upwards. Maybe she’d imagined it or perhaps it was a distant jet. It was probably wishful thinking, she decided, because she longed for some relief from the stifling heat.

They finally reached Camilla’s quarter and Maddy handed over the promised minutes. There seemed to be precious little in the way of thanks, noted Maddy, and neither was any refreshment offered. Not that Maddy wanted it; Camilla had set views on children being seen and not heard, or climbing on the furniture, or walking around while munching a biscuit. Maddy certainly couldn’t rely on Nathan to be on his best behaviour in Camilla’s no doubt pristine quarter and she felt sufficiently pissed off with the CO’s wife that there was every likelihood that she would have snapped if Camilla had criticised her son. No, not being invited in was completely for the best.

As they walked back down the path there was another faint rumble. If there was a storm brewing it must still be miles away. They continued their way to the play park where Maddy put Rose in a swing and Nathan was able to let off steam on the slides and the climbing frame. As Maddy wearily swung Rose back and forth she was amazed at Nathan’s energy.

By the time Nathan had started to flag and Rose was sucking her thumb and looking a bit dozy, the rumbles were definitely coming closer. Maddy gathered the children up and started for home just as a terrific gust of wind came out of nowhere and blew dust and the odd piece of rubbish up high into the air. Nathan got grit in his eyes and began to bawl and Maddy had to spend the next few minutes calming him down and making sure he didn’t rub his eyes before she got the muck out as best she could with the corner of a clean hanky. By the time they got going again the weather was definitely on the change and the temperature had started to drop. Maddy looked at the sky again – ‘apocalyptic’ was the word that sprang to mind. It was like the worst kind of bruise – purple and black and horrible.

‘Come on, children,’ she said, trying to chivvy Nathan along, but he was still grizzling about his poorly sore eye and, tired from running around the play park, he was dragging his feet.

The wind swirled again, causing the temperature to plummet further, and Maddy shivered in her thin dress. How could the weather change so dramatically and so fast? Then, splat, a fat raindrop hit the pavement by her feet. And then another and then, almost without warning, the heavens opened and lightning ripped across the sky, followed about two seconds later by a terrifying crash of thunder. As Maddy flipped the hood of the pushchair over Rose to protect her from the worst, Nathan screamed with real fear and stood stock-still, refusing to budge. Maddy tried to persuade him to run but it was hopeless. The poor little mite was utterly terrified so Maddy grabbed him and swung him onto her hip, and steering the pushchair with one hand, she headed for the nearest shelter she could find – the community centre. She could see the workmen’s vans and cars parked in the drive so she knew it would be open. By the time she was through the front door she and the children were soaked.

She knelt by the pushchair, just inside the open door, and tried to calm her children while water, dripping off their sodden clothes, pooled around them. Luckily the old carpet had been ripped up and more hard-wearing, practical vinyl flooring had been laid in the hall. Rose was crying but her tears seemed to have been brought on by being bounced around in her buggy. Nathan, however, was almost inconsolable. Maddy cuddled him as the puddle around them grew. At least, thought Maddy, the new flooring meant that any mess she made would be easy to clear up. Behind her, in the kitchen and crèche area, she could hear a radio blaring – presumably where the workmen were now – and the old quarter reeked of paint. Glancing around her as Nathan sobbed against her shoulder she saw almost everything looked pretty much finished.

Outside, the rain bounced knee-high off the ground and the thunder and lightning crashed and flashed. She stroked Rose’s cheek as she held Nathan tight and made soothing noises.

‘Silly old storm,’ she said, hiding her own fears. The thunder and lightning were now almost simultaneous and when the thunder cracked the noise was deafening. ‘It doesn’t frighten us, does it?’ she said in a lull between the crashes.

Nathan looked at her, his lip trembling, and shook his head.

At least, thought Maddy, it had taken his mind off his sore eye.

‘This is some storm,’ said a familiar voice.

Maddy swung round. ‘Jenna, what are you doing here?’

‘Come to see the progress of my salon. It’s coming on a treat. We’ll be ready to open in a couple of weeks. All we need is the crèche ready to rock and roll and this place should start paying its way.’

‘That’s brilliant.’

Another crash of thunder made Nathan wail again and Maddy soothed him.

‘Look at you lot,’ said Jenna, ‘you’re soaked through.’

‘Skin’s waterproof,’ said Maddy with a bravado she didn’t feel. She was beginning to feel really cold, and if she did, so would her children.

‘Wait here,’ said Jenna. She disappeared up the stairs and came back a couple of minutes later with her arms filled with new fluffy towels.

Maddy wrapped up the kids and then herself and instantly she could see the kids were comforted.

‘You are such a star, Jen.’

‘Just as well I was here, eh? And as soon as this rain eases off I’ll give you lot a lift back.’

Sometimes, thought Maddy, her friends were just the best.

Susie was making a dash from the back door of the mess to her car and even though she was only in the rain for a few seconds, she too was soaked. She did think about waiting for the worst of the storm to abate but she’d promised Caro that she’d pick the kids up at five thirty and it wouldn’t be fair of her to be late – just because of a drop of rain. Besides, how long was this storm set to last? The sky was still almost pitch black and there was no sign of it moving off.

Not, thought Susie as she reached her car, wrenched the door open and dived in, that this quite qualified as a ‘drop of rain’. Tropical monsoon was nearer the mark. If it carried on like this, she thought as she pushed her dripping hair off her face, Noah would be getting his plans out again and ordering the lumber.

She started the car and, with the windscreen wipers working on full speed, she drove along the road, through the barracks and down to the patch. The gutters on either side were brimming and bubbling with water and some of the drains seemed unable to cope and puddles were spreading across the tarmac. Susie drove carefully – what with the reduced visibility and the amount of water on the road, driving conditions were far from ideal. It had got so dark that despite the fact there should have been several hours of daylight left, the streetlights had all switched themselves on. Truly, if four horsemen had galloped by, Susie wouldn’t have been surprised.

When she reached Caro’s she could see her friend at the kitchen window, silhouetted by the light she had on – at five thirty... in the summer. Caro waved and had the front door opened before Susie could ring the bell.

Susie fell into the house, shaking the worst of the rain off her clothes as she stood on the doormat.

‘You should have waited till the worst was over,’ said Caro. ‘There was no need to get soaked. The girls are happy and an extra few minutes wouldn’t have mattered.’

Susie shrugged. ‘Hey, don’t encourage me to take liberties.’

Caro grinned. ‘Have a cup of tea, at least, before you go. Don’t drag the girls out to the car in this – it can’t go on for much longer. There’s no point in getting wetter than you need to.’ Which made sense.

Half an hour later, the worst of the storm had passed, going almost as suddenly as it had arrived. The sky was brightening, the birds were making an effort to sing again in the cool, calm evening and the deluge had fizzled out to a few spits and spots so Susie decided it was time to take her kids off Caro’s hands.

They drove back towards their village along roads that were half flooded and covered in leaves ripped from the trees and other detritus the violent storm had washed into them. Even though the sun was trying to break through the thinning clouds, Susie still drove with extreme care, as they picked their way through the debris. In some places the road was flooded from kerb to kerb and she held her breath as she negotiated her way through, a bow wave preceding them as she prayed she didn’t stall or the car didn’t conk out. The road at the bottom of the village was hubcap deep in water and the green seemed to have been transformed into a pond but once they turned up the hill that led to their road Susie breathed a sigh of relief.

Now they were heading for higher ground everything would be better, wouldn’t it? Except the gutters that ran down the sides of the road were still brimming with water; it must all be running off the hill above the village. Susie turned into their road and gasped. The drainage ditch that ran parallel to their road and formed a boundary between the pavement and the front gardens was a raging torrent. How? Why? Where was this weight of water coming from? It was swirling across the path that led to their front door and it was brown and muddy and looked incredibly dangerous. Susie didn’t like to think of the consequences if any of them happened to slip trying to cross the narrow concrete bridge that usually spanned the messy undergrowth.

‘Just stay in the car, girls,’ she said.

‘This place is such a dump,’ sneered Ella. ‘Look, even the drains don’t work.’

Susie took a deep breath. ‘This is nothing to do with the estate,’ she said. ‘This is the result of a freak storm.’

‘Yeah, right,’ said Katie.

Susie ignored her. ‘The water will soon go down. The rain has stopped so it’s got to drain away shortly.’ She sounded more confident than she felt and even as she looked at the water she could have sworn that it was marginally higher than it had been just seconds earlier. She assessed the situation. Would she be better going back down the hill, back through the flooded village road and back to Caro’s or would she be better to stay put?

The water began to lap over the top of the flooded, overgrown ditch and onto the footpath. It was definitely rising, no doubt about it now. But if it was bad here it would be even worse down in the village, Susie reasoned. She decided to stay put. A memory popped into her head of watching the news on TV and seeing a car being washed down the valley when the village of Boscastle had been hit by a similar freak storm. Susie looked around her and at the water swirling towards the car. Would she and the kids be safe? Ought she try to drive to higher ground? But where? Their road led downhill, not up, and if she wanted to reach higher ground she’d have to brave the flooded road in the village first.

Susie tried to control the rising panic and wished Mike was here to go through the options with her. Suddenly, the idea of having someone on hand who knew about floods and emergencies and sandbags seemed incredibly appealing. But no way would he be able to get away with this sort of stuff going on. Surely, as emergency planning officer, he’d be up the sharp end organising flood defences, or sandbags or rescue crews or... well, whatever he had to organise. She turned and looked out of the rear window at the filthy brown water pouring down the road, tumbling through the drainage ditch, lapping around the wheels of the car... She felt sick with worry. Were they in more danger staying put or was it worth risking crossing the bridge and trying to get to the house? And what sort of weight of water did it take to wash a car away? She wished she knew. She swallowed and tried not to cry with worry.

The girls seemed oblivious to the danger of the flood and after whinging about missing some TV soap or other they got their phones out and began to play arcade games. At least they were now less likely to monitor their mother’s body language.