CHAPTER 48
2.05 p.m. GMT Shepherd’s Bush,
London
Leona led the way another hundred yards up
Uxbridge Road. It was only as they crossed the debris-strewn road
that they noticed someone else, the first sign of life so far. She
could see about five people, an Asian family, picking through the
mess of a jewellery shop, making a tentative start at clearing the
mess up. She felt encouraged by that. It seemed like a good
sign.
Ahead of them was a small shopping precinct, above
it a multi-storey car-park. Normally, night and day, the precinct
was awash with neon lights, backlit billboards, and thousands of
little shopping mall spotlights embedded in the precinct’s
relatively low ceiling. Right now, despite being a sunny afternoon,
it looked quite dark inside.
‘The supermarket’s just a little way inside,’ said
Leona. She might have turned back at this point, but seeing that
family not so far away, making a start on fixing up their shop,
there was a pervading sense that the worst of this might actually
be over.
‘Can’t see any police down there,’ said Dan.
‘Let’s take a quick look. And if there’s no police
inside, we might be able to pick up a few extra supplies in the
supermarket. ’
Dan didn’t look so keen.
‘A quick look, then we’ll come out again.’
She led the way, heading into the precinct.
Out of the sunlight it felt cooler. Their footfall
against the smooth, well-polished floor, echoed loudly inside. She
was taken aback at how lifeless it looked, so used to the place
always being busy and noisy with the sound of shopping muzak,
squealing packs of teeny-boppers, and the clatter of heels and
shopping trolleys and mums pushing baby buggies.
Every store-front window had been smashed.
At the far end of the precinct she could see the
long and wide windows of the supermarket. From where they were, it
was clear it had been looted; windows were smashed, shopping
trolleys and hand baskets were tangled everywhere and the ground
was covered with discarded packaging, cardboard boxes, spilled,
crushed and spoiled food.
They approached a smashed window and looked inside.
It was dark. No power. The shelves were uniformly empty, the floor
space between littered with more debris from the orgy of looting
that must have happened here yesterday afternoon and evening.
‘It’s been totally cleared out,’ said Dan quietly.
‘This is so-o-o like that New Orleans Katrina thing. I remember
that on the news. It just . . . just looked like this.’
Leona nodded. ‘I know. You just don’t think that
would happen here, you know, until it does.’
‘We should head back now,’ he said, ‘we’ve left
Jake long enough.’
Leona smiled and reached for his hand, ‘You’d make
a good older brother.’
They heard the scrape of a foot on glass shards
behind them and both spun round.
‘You got a fag, mate?’