'You know what I mean,' she replied sullenly.
'We never even have sex any more-'
'Oh, God, if I hear that one more time-'
'I'm not just talking about the sex! It's symptomatic of everything else. It's about intimacy, being close to someone you love…' He slammed the glass down on a table, slopping beer everywhere.
'I'm too tired to have sex!' The emotion burst out in a tidal wave. 'I'm worn out by everything… too frightened… too… oh, it doesn't matter!'
The brief silence that followed her outburst was filled with her guilt, and then anger that she'd given in to her emotions.
'What's happened to us, Caitlin?' Grant's voice was like glass. 'We never celebrate what we've got… we just exist. Before, we used to celebrate all the time-'
'Before, before, before, that's all you ever talk about!'
'Listen to me!' he snapped. 'We've got to do something to put this right, or-'
'Or what?' She slammed out of her chair and stormed across the room. 'Or what? You'll leave me? Go on, then!'
She pushed past him, snatched up her coat and marched out into the night. Distant flashes of lightning burst intermittently across the sky. There was no rain, but the wild wind still made the trees around the barns sway and moan as if they were alive. Caitlin threw herself into the gale, lost to emotions that felt as if they were tearing her apart. She didn't even think about what she had glimpsed in the lane earlier, or the plague and the suffering.
Ten minutes later she realised where her subconscious was driving her. The windows of Mary Holden's house were aglow with the ruddy light of a fire. The white cottage stood on the edge of the village, camouflaged by several years' growth of clematis and surrounded by a garden so wild it clamoured on every side as if it was trying to break into the warmth.
Caitlin felt bad about calling at so late an hour, but Mary had proved a good friend throughout the difficult months since the Fall and would understand. Mary answered Caitlin's knock quickly and ushered her in. 'What are you doing out in weather like this?' she said. Mary was in her early sixties but looked much younger: her long grey hair had a lustre and was tied into a ponytail with a black ribbon; she wore faded blue jeans and a too- large white T-shirt that looked as if it had been in the wash with the colours. 'Have you run out of supplies?' she continued. 'I've got a new batch of herbs in. Haven't had a chance to dry them yet, though.'
'No, it's just…' Caitlin suddenly couldn't stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks.
'What is it, love?' Mary put an arm round Caitlin's shoulders and led her towards the pleasant heat of the wood-fire. The house had an exotic spicy aroma from the herbs and wild plants Mary collected to turn into potpourri or incense, her dining room packed to the brim with jars of the dried produce. Mary knew everything there was to know about their medicinal uses and regularly supplied Caitlin with mysterious bunches of crispy vegetation to boost the surgery's dwindling medicinal stocks. The remarkable success rate of remedies made up from her scrawled notes had led Caitlin to come to trust her judgment.
At first Caitlin couldn't get her words out — the tears wouldn't stop, her throat appeared to have closed up — so she sat on the old, comfy sofa in front of the hearth while Mary went into the kitchen to make her a herbal tea.
'Here you are.' Mary offered a cracked mug. 'Probably tastes like shit, but you won't get much better anywhere else these days.'
'Sometimes I wonder why I carry on,' Caitlin said. 'There's no point. To anything.'
'Now you know that's not true.' Mary stretched out next to her like a cat. 'There's a point to everything, even if you can't see it. But that's not what you want to hear, is it? What's wrong?' Mary radiated an atmosphere of peace that Caitlin found eminently comforting. In a way, Mary was her equal in the eyes of the community. Most of the villagers had found their way to Mary's door at some time or other, and with increasing regularity, seeking wisdom or herbal remedies that they couldn't get from Caitlin. Finally, it was Caitlin's turn; and so she spoke about the plague, and her fears that it could wipe out the population, and her guilt that she couldn't do anything about it. And against her better judgment, she talked of Grant and the growing gulf between them, and how their relationship appeared to be sliding away, though neither of them wanted that to happen.
Mary listened intently, nodding at the right points. When Caitlin had finished, Mary smiled a little sadly and said, 'You've got it all on your plate, haven't you? Stronger women than you would buckle under that kind of pressure. You mustn't feel bad about taking a few knocks.'
'Well, I do. People are relying on me.'
'You're not Supergirl, you know.' Mary's black cat startled them both, leaping on to her lap from the shadows beside the sofa. Mary had named him Arthur Lee after some sixties singer she admired.
'What am I going to do?' Caitlin asked.
'I hate to say this, but I agree with Grant.'
Caitlin eyed her suspiciously.
'This life is all about maintaining a balance. You're completely out of whack at the moment. Too much yin, not enough yang. You're not going to do anybody any good by running yourself into the ground.'
'I feel too worn out-'
'Then you'd better un-wear yourself. These are hard times, Caitlin, but they've been worse… not for us, but in the past. It's easy to give in to all the misery, when what we really should be doing is enjoying life. Because we still can.' Mary chewed her lip in thought for a moment before adding, 'And if you don't mind me sticking my nose in, you should start sleeping with Grant again.'
Caitlin looked up sharply; she hadn't mentioned that aspect to Mary. 'Come on. It's obvious.' She cracked her knuckles like a docker. 'Sometimes it's hard to find the energy, but it rewards you if you can. Sex is the glue of relationships, Caitlin, and it's what life is all about. It's the opposite of death, of giving up, of getting swamped by…' She waved a hand towards the window.'… what's out there. See it as symbolic.'
'That's one line the boys never used.'
They laughed together, wrapped in the firelight and the warmth, the wind bucking with irritation at the panes.
'I appreciate this, Mary. At this time of night-'
'You know you're the daughter I never had,' Mary said sardonically.
'No, really.'
'I'm a sucker for waifs and strays.' Arthur Lee settled in her lap so Mary could scratch behind its ears. 'We have to pull together, in a way we never did before.'
Mary was serious and thoughtful, and Caitlin felt calmer simply being around her. Mary was one of those people who felt so much bigger than the actual space they filled. 'You really think it's worth it?'
'The clock's been set back. We've got a big opportunity to put things right this time.'
'You're saying all the death and the suffering are worthwhile?'
'That's the wrong word. But we can't see the big picture — we're too close to it. I know this: the world we had before wasn't all it was cracked up to be. People just… existed. They weren't really happy. They worked, and got more possessions than their parents had, and lived a few years longer, but they weren't really happy. Everything in society was just geared towards maintaining that system… keeping the status quo… because there were a lot of people who really benefited from it. Everybody else just drifted along. Is that living?' 'Tell that to the bodies stacked up in the village hall. I bet they'd prefer a touch of the old life, however dull it was.'
Mary smiled, but not in agreement. She pushed Arthur Lee off her lap and went to a cupboard containing a row of dog-eared vinyl records. 'They're all useless now,' she said, 'but I keep them for what they mean… good mojo.' She laughed as she flicked through the rack and selected one, which she handed to Caitlin. It was called Forever Changes by some band called Love and the cover featured a collection of psychedelically coloured heads against a white background.
'Never heard of them,' Caitlin said, not quite understanding the point. 'The last music I remember hearing was doves'
'They were around in the mid-sixties,' Mary said. 'They had an underground following but never really broke through into the big time because they refused to get involved in all the corporate bullshit. They were quite brilliant. Anyway, there was a quote about them that's always stuck in my mind. It said something like, 'Love perfectly captured the combination of beauty and dread that was around in the sixties.' That's what we've got now, beauty
