I blinked, startled out of my coffee reverie, and turned towards her. ‘Leave? Whatever for?’
Lizzy twisted her hands together and avoided my gaze. ‘All this stuff is only happening here, Charley. It’s only in Manchester. We don’t know what’s going to happen next. If we leave…’ Her voice trailed off.
‘This is my home.’
‘I know that.’
‘I worked too hard to get this place and to build up a life for myself. I don’t have anywhere else to go.’
‘There’s always your parents.’
I let out a derisive snort. That wasn’t an option. ‘I’m not leaving.’ I set my jaw. ‘Besides, nothing else will happen.’
‘Charley,’ Lizzy said in a half-strangled whisper, ‘the sky was on fire.’
I peered out of the darkened window. ‘But it’s not now.’ I flashed her a sunny grin. ‘It’ll give us something to tell our grandkids. The day the world turned upside down and then turned itself right again.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘You don’t always have to look on the bright side.’
‘And you,’ I said gently, ‘don’t have to stay here because of me.’
‘Yeah.’ She pushed herself away from the wall and opened a cupboard to take out a battered, sticky tube of ointment before walking over to me and taking my hands. With great care she rubbed a small amount onto my burns. ‘You need someone to look after you.’
I laughed. I’d been picking up the pieces after Lizzy for months since she’d moved in. The idea that she needed to look after me was more than amusing. ‘If you say so,’ I murmured.
She had the grace to blush. ‘We should talk about what happened. It must have brought up memories of Joshua and…’
I pulled away. I didn’t have many regrets but telling Lizzy what had happened that terrible night was one of them. It had been a moment of weakness brought on by too much wine. It wouldn’t happen again. ‘I don’t want to talk about him.’
‘The fire though…’
I crossed my arms over my chest and glared. ‘No. Joshua is off limits.’
She nodded. ‘Okay, okay. I’m sorry.’ She ran a hand through her blonde hair. ‘Then maybe we should talk about why this was the only place that wasn’t touched by the fire. If you check the street, every house has been damaged apart from this one.’
‘The one that was burning,’ I said instantly. ‘Is it alright?’
‘No one was inside and the fire was put out quickly. It’s okay.’
Giving a nod that was both relieved and satisfied in equal measures, considering I’d crashed out before checking the house properly myself, I returned my attention to the kettle and poured hot water into my mug. ‘Want some?’ I asked.
Lizzy shook her head. ‘No.’ She opened another cupboard and pulled out a family-sized bag of crisps. She has a prodigious appetite; I knew from experience that within minutes there wouldn’t even be any crumbs left.
‘It’s not the house,’ I said, once I’d taken a mouthful of coffee. I told her about what had happened with the rats and how they’d avoided coming near me when they were so keen to munch on everyone else.
Lizzy’s eyes went wide. ‘It’s you. The weird shit is avoiding you.’
‘Nope.’ I wrinkled my nose. ‘It’s nothing to do with me because the fire rain didn’t avoid me when I went to help that woman. It was only avoiding the house.’
‘That’s still pretty damned weird.’
‘I don’t think that’s the weirdest that’s happened recently,’ I said drily.
‘No. In fact…’
Lizzy was interrupted by enormous creaking sound from outside. The bag of crisps fell from her hands and we stared at each other. ‘Now what?’ she whispered.
I put the mug carefully to one side. ‘Let’s go and find out.’
I suppose that in the great scheme of things this next calamity was less worrisome than it could have been. If you were a squirrel.
One of the bonuses about living in a better-heeled part of Manchester is that my street has pretty cherry trees dotted along it. The council likes to keep its wealthier residents happy with something vaguely natural to appreciate as they count their coins. Having said that, the blossom in spring, which has the unfortunate habit of drifting down onto shiny cars and clogging up drains and gutters, is a source of contention.
The trees were looking worse for wear after the fire rain episode, with most of their leaves stripped away. I suspected that delighted several of my neighbours. They wouldn’t be smiling now, though.
As Lizzy and I watched, mouths wide open, the trees up and down the street were visibly growing. And I’m not talking about a few extra leaves sprouting; branches were extending and trunks were burgeoning outwards.
‘Charley,’ Lizzy said faintly, ‘are you seeing what I’m seeing?’
Before I could answer her, there was a loud cracking sound from the pavement on the opposite side of the street and the cement began to break open. From seemingly out of nowhere, a root burst through.
I licked my lips. ‘Uh.’ It was hardly my most eloquent moment but that was the best comment I could produce at the time.
‘This is crazy,’ she said. ‘What do we do? Why are they growing so much? We need to make it stop! Charley…’
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted one of the trees extend a branch towards the bedroom window of the Peters, a young family a few doors down. Without even thinking, I yelled out in alarm, ‘Stop!’
There was a rippling shudder down its trunk. Every tree, every branch and every damn twig in sight seemed to shake and tremble and, for one bizarre moment, it felt as if they were all staring at me. I shook myself. That was nuts. Trees didn’t have eyes and they weren’t sentient. Then again, they didn’t grow at a rate of knots either.
‘Charley.’ Lizzy’s voice was barely audible. She turned and looked at me with wide, frightened eyes.
