d out for something but not knowing what。 Then her stomach rumbled and she knew that she needed food。 The bags dropped from her hands； spilling out their contents； but they were ignored； reaching up； pulling at foliage； sniffing it but it was brown and bitter； unpalatable。 She grunted with rage； tore at more branches； cast them aside。 And overhead a wheeling crow cawed its own anger and frustration。 It； too； was having difficulty in finding food in this burned…up land。
CHAPTER TWO
'Jesus CHRIST； what wouldn't I give for some proper food。' Sylvia Atkinson wrinkled her freckled features in disapproval as she chewed on a handful of freshly pulled bean sprouts。 'Being a health food freak isn't my idea of eating； Jon。'
'It's the difference between surviving or dying。' Jon Quinn regarded her steadily； furrowed his brow and wondered how long it would be before she went over the top； ran up that flight of steps and out into the remnants of the world they had once known。 'At the moment we have two advantages over the rest of the population of Great Britain； maybe even over the western world。 We have a seed…sprouter and an almost unlimited supply of fresh food； and； as far as we can tell； we're more or less all right； just like we used to be。 God knows how everybody else will finish up； how much longer they'll last。 All we can do is stop down here and wait。'
They ate in silence； everything that had to be said had been said during the last few days。 Now they were starting to get on each other's nerves； which was inevitable。 He studied her carefully； let his gaze run over the small slim figure clad in a soiled cheese…cloth dress； sandalled feet and purple toenails； ran his eyes all the way back up her again。 Her short dark hair was tangled and needed bing but she wasn't in the mood； her plexion so much paler without make…up。 Dark eyes that no longer shone； were pouched and baggy underneath。 A permanent expression of hopelessness； she was fast giving in； being a problem that he could well do without。 Jackie had more resilience； would have e up with a few constructive ideas by now。 And； that constant nagging thought； where was Jackie？
Shrewsbury； no doubt。 Alive or dead？ It was anybody's guess who was alive or dead out there。
He found himself studying the interior of the cellar again even though every square inch of it was indelibly imprinted on his mind。 Boring； but it was the sole reason they were still alive。
The idea of converting this underground ten…by…ten cubicle into a nuclear fall…out shelter had seemed a crazy whim five years ago but； as he had pointed out to Jackie； it could serve a dual purpose； food storage in case it was ever needed； an ideal place for seed…sprouting and a few mushroom buckets。 A potato store； too。 That way Jackie had not been so cynical about it； only begrudging the money spent on filters and other items of equipment needed to bat radiation in the atmosphere。 All the same； he had constructed the shelter subversively under this ploy； got his own way by cunning。 There was no incentive to build something which you hoped you would never have to use but if it had an alternative purpose it wasn't so bad。 The ironic part was that Jackie wasn't here so that he could say； 'I told you so。'
Shelving on two walls； mostly stacked with durable foodstuffs from the health food shop in Knighton。 Coffee （decaffeinated）； a selection of herb teas； muesli bars； a variety of nuts； tubs of seeds for sprouting； dried vegetables。 Eating； for Jon； wasn't any different now from what it had been for years。 Jackie wouldn't have minded but Sylvia was yearning for a return to convention。 That might never happen； probably wouldn't； but he could not tell her that because it would destroy that last tiny flicker of hope that kept her going。
Eight years ago he had been just an ordinary clerk working in a Birmingham office； nine to five； Mondays to Fridays； on a take…home of eighty a week。 He wasn't well； nothing that you could put your finger on； probably a bination of junk food and boredom that inspired him to vegetate。 It was Jackie who had been the driving force behind him； had dragged him out of the rut。 Earlier in her life； before their marriage； she had been a vegetarian and she had realised the necessity to find an avenue of escape from their conventional existence。 Reading and fantasising about 'the good life' was one thing； having the courage to put it into practice was another。
The following spring she had persuaded him to dig up the upper…tier lawn of their small semi…detached garden and plant it with vegetables。 'It's a positive start；' she had said。 'Grass is no good unless you've got a goat or a cow； and as local bye…laws prevent us from having either we must use the ground constructively。 Mowing lawns is just unconstructive work！'
The next spring the lower…tier lawn went the same way and Jon's enthusiasm grew。 Little by little she had 'enlightened' him； wholewheat bread instead of white sliced； textured vegetable protein replacing the Sunday joint and just as tasty。 His health； his whole outlook； improved。 The big step was looming up but again he had needed her to give him a shove。
'We'll sell up； buy a smallholding and take our chance；' she told him one evening。
'We don't have the money。' His resistance； his townie caution was only to be expected。
'We will have；' she smiled； 'when we sell this place。 Residential houses fetch money and there's a property boom on at the moment。 We'll get twenty grand for this house even if it is a semi。 That kind of money will buy us a small spread up in those Shropshire hills where land and cottages are relatively cheap。 We don't have a lot of mortgage left anyway and it'll be more of a swap 。 。 。 this house and your job for a smallholding； and after that it will be up to us。'
He'd been scared； scared so that he lay in bed each night telling himself what a bloody fool he was but he didn't care because this sort of artificial existence was no more than ticking the years off； waiting for retirement。 And when you were retired all you had left was another period of waiting 。 。 。 waiting to die。
It had worked out。 The house had been sold and they had found a seven…acre spread and a tumbledown cottage in the hills and had even had a thousand left over after the mortgage was cleared。 But without Jackie he wouldn't have made it even then； she had her own ideas about farming； ideas which made them 'cranks' in the eyes of the sparse local munity。
'Look at it this way；' she told him one night after he had spent the day propping up the sagging roof timbers in the old stone cottage。 'If we go in for conventional stock farming we'll be lucky to make a thousand a year with a few cattle and sheep； and that's providing we don't have any mishaps which we probably will have because we're only amateurs； after all。'
Jon closed his eyes； waited for it。 But； after all； she had been right about digging up those lawns。
'We'll start up an organic farm；' she smiled。 'It'll be hard work but there's a genuine need for the produce。 Carrots for cancer sufferers； under alternative treatment they have to drink three pints of organic carrot juice a day； plus goats' milk yoghurt； so we'll keep goats。 And garlic； there's a big demand for garlic but most of it is imported。 There's lots of other lines we can experiment with too。 We won't make a fortune but we'll make a living and most important of all we'll have our freedom。'
As usual Jackie had been right。 It had been hard work； very hard work； and still was but they had made it。 Contrary to popular local expectations； they had succeeded in growing their crops on a windswept slope 1；000 feet above sea…ievel； they had built up their own goat herd and even had a billy for stud。 They still had the old Citroen Dyane but had managed to buy a battered old canvas…topped Land Rover for farm work as well。 That part of it had worked out； but somewhere along the way things had gone wrong for Jon and Jackie； they found themselves drifting apart。 These last few days Jon had tried to put his finger on the cause but it had eluded him。 In a way he felt guilty about having Sylvia in here with him； occupying Jackie's rightful place in a tiny haven of safety。 It was as though he had traded his wife's life for that of his mistress。 If Sylvia took it into her head to walk out of here and go on up there； get herself all burned up or whatever； then that was her lookout。 No； it wasn't； he'd do his utmost to stop her because if she went then he would be left alone and he could not stand that。
'How much longer do we have to stay down here？' She broke the long silence； asked a question which he had been asking himself these last couple of days and had not had the courage to take responsibility for the answer。
'Another few days； I guess。' He stared down at the bare concrete floor and wished that he had saved that old piece of coconut matting out of the kitchen instead of burning it。 Jackie's motto was that you never got rid of anything。 'That freak gale and rainstorm last