Eventually, she was forced to attend to her own situation. The boat was drifting dangerously close to the edge of the basin and the clawing grasp of the multitude that surrounded her. She needed to secure it in the centre. She managed to do it with the aid of some ropes and boat hooks, but it took a while. When it was done, she climbed onto the roof again and sat, cross-legged, staring into the distance in the direction that Anita had taken.
She only stirred when it began to get dark. So much time had passed. She shuddered at the thought of Anita out there in the dark, alone, and afraid. But that was assuming she had even made it. She knew it was morbid, but she found herself searching the crowd of infected for anyone that looked like Anita.
The noise and stench emanating from the horde was stifling and relentless and she couldn't see much in the fading light, so, reluctantly, she made her way back down into the boat. She closed the doors and windows, pulled all the curtains, and then sat down at the small table, with her head in her hands, and a million thoughts spinning round in her head.
She swung between moments of positivity, when she was sure that Anita had made it to safety and that everything was going to be alright, to periods of utter despair and desolation, when she was convinced that she was gone.
They'd been so lucky to have got through everything they'd been through so far that she'd been sure they were both destined to survive. But maybe their luck had finally run out, maybe all they had done was to delay the inevitable.
As well as her misery about what might or might not have happened to Anita, she was also starting to have some nagging fears about her own situation. What was going to happen to her? How was she going to get out of this on her own? She chided herself for having such selfish thoughts when Anita was in such peril and might even be dead, but they kept pushing back through. Without Anita, she could never get the boat through all the locks that she knew lay ahead. But she couldn't give up the boat and travel alone on foot either. It was just too dangerous.
Her imagination ran away with her. A series of different terrible outcomes started to play out in her head. Starving to death on the boat, being torn to shreds by the horde on the waterfront or being overwhelmed as she tried to negotiate a lock on her own. Her head was pounding. She was dead-tired. She closed her eyes, then opened them again quickly. She couldn't sleep! She had to be awake in case Anita came back.
But now that night was here, that was unlikely. If she had made it to somewhere safe, she would stay there until morning. She wasn't stupid. By morning, the horde might have thinned out a bit, even drifted away like they had the night they were trapped in the camper van. If Anita was coming back, she would wait until then.
All Lisa could do now was wait.
She woke at dawn, slumped over the table with her cheek pressed uncomfortably against the hard surface. She sat up slowly, easing the stiffness from her aching limbs and back. She rubbed her cheek where the skin had been stuck to the table. She listened. It was quiet outside. The horde had settled.
Peering carefully through the curtains, she checked one side and then the other. They had definitely thinned out. There were still a few shuffling around the basin, but nothing like the numbers that had been there the day before. She considered her options, concluding that she just needed to wait and stay out of sight. If Anita was alive, she wouldn't be able to return until it was safe. Lisa couldn't risk being seen or heard and attracting them all again. She had to be patient.
She spent the day creeping around inside the boat. Waiting. She studied the Waterways Guide, memorising every section of the canal between Stratford and Attwood Common. She identified every lock and obstacle, and worked out which ones would be in potentially dangerous, populated areas, and where there were clusters of locks that would make for slow progress and be physically challenging. From time to time, she peeked outside to check on the infected, assessing their numbers and positions. Just in case.
She made herself some food around midday, hungry for the first time since their breakfast the previous morning. In the afternoon, she lay down on the bed and managed to sleep for a couple of hours. She awoke feeling positive. She had a sense of purpose. Anita was coming back, and she was waiting for her.
But when darkness fell again, the doubt started to creep back in. What was she doing, waiting here like this? She was wasting time. If Anita had survived, she might have decided to keep moving. To get away from the town completely. Not to try and return to the boat. To try and catch up with Lisa further up the canal. She might be long gone.
With every day that passed, Neil was more likely to think that she wasn't coming home. If he thought she wasn't coming, he wouldn't wait for her, and it would all have been for nothing.
She sat down at the table for the second night in a row. This time, she opened the rum and poured herself a generous measure. She'd hoped it would dull the edges and cheer her up a bit, but it had the opposite effect. She felt completely
