20.

Diana and Tulisa were taken to Singleton Hospital. The news of what had befallen them and to the Rhos Meadow residents had shocked the world. In the ensuing days thereafter the story appeared on every news channel, paper in every country. But all Diana could think about was the man and the spiritual guidance of a young boy. She lay in her hospital bed listening to the torrential rain outside, like hundreds of gloved fingers tapping the windowpane. Both she and Tulisa had had to give blood samples, X-rays, urine samples, faeces samples.

A specialist by the name Dr. Ward had been in to see Diana and Tulisa earlier on. He wore the familiar white tunic and eyeglasses that gave him a sophisticated aura he would not have had if he’d not been wearing them. He sat on edge of Diana’s bed, mulling over what he was going to tell her. Then when he did finally speak, his mouth poured words like the battleship-grey clouds.

‘The good news is you and Tulisa are perfectly fine,’ he said in a husky, smoker’s voice. ‘We checked your mouth for ulcers. Your eyes dilate as they should. But we need to keep you in for some more examination. The X-rays were also fine, as was the urine samples and faeces samples. I know it’s unpleasant, but believe me its better we do it. We just need to be vigilant and know one-hundred percent that you and Tulisa have not become infected before we let you leave.’ His larynx sounded like a rattlebox when he coughed. We need to check that you have bouts of nausea and vomiting. Dry throat, hacking cough. We have to be careful of a prolonged deterioration. Your body may not show any signs of infection until a little while. Hopefully never. But it’d do no one any good if we let you go and then you suffered with symptoms such as brain swelling; congested lungs and internal bleeding. You could have a severe case of diarrhoea and not think it’s related, all the while excreting your stomach lining. Its things like that we need to be sure of. ‘

Diana contorted her features at the mention of diarrhoea and excreting the stomach lining.

‘I know,’ Dr. Ward went on, ‘it’s not a nice thing to talk about, especially after the traumatic experience you two have already been through. But I’m not going to lie to you and say all this extensive testing is routine. You don’t look at all stupid or naïve, so I’m not going to treat you like you are.

‘Did you or Tulisa drink any of the water or eat any of the food in Rhos Meadow at all?’

‘The only thing we drank was Coke and food packet food; crisps, chocolate, bread and butter,’ Diana said, her voice groggy.

‘But no meat, milk or water or vegetables or fruit from the Gillespie farm, no?’

Diana shook her head.

Dr. Ward nodded, satisfied. ‘Good, because we believe that that and some other aspects was the cause behind this outbreak.

‘Apart from, lack of nourishment, dehydration, stress and being involved in a terrifying ordeal, both you and your daughter are well. Had you been bitten or scratched I’m not sure there would be anything we could do for you. I believe in science not divine intervention. But as far as this situation is concerned, I’m not so sure.’

Dr. Ward patted Diana’s leg comfortingly then crossed the room. He stopped upon reaching the threshold at the sound of Diana’s voice.

‘Did they manage to kill them all?’

‘I would imagine so, Mrs. Weber.’

‘But you’re not sure though, are you?’

‘The authorities would have informed us had they been unable to. And, as far as I’m aware, all the residents of Rhos Meadow have been accounted for. At least the ones that you didn’t blow to cinders that is.’ He added the last remark with a wry smile. ‘Now, try to get some rest.’

Diana fell into a deep, dreamless slumber the moment she closed her eyes.

***

When Diana and Tulisa were released from Singleton Hospital over a week later and returned home, it seemed as though they had been away for many years.

What happened in Rhos Meadow was a hazy memory from a lifetime ago. Diana had to familiarise herself with the living room. She silently thanked her mum and dad for filling her fridge with fresh food. They had visited in hospital. Her dad tried to talk about what had happened, but quickly realised that doing so was inappropriate. All Diana and Tulisa wanted to do was get on with their lives. Instead the phone rang off the hook, reporters and journalists firing questions, offering exclusives to the newspapers and to make appearances on This Morning and other TV shows. Diana kindly but firmly turned them all down.

Life without tranquillity was no life. It was hell.

She could have cashed in one the experience and given her and Tulisa a more comfortable way of living. Yet, to talk about what happened in-depth; about people who were no longer alive to encourage or discourage her seemed like a violation. What Eric Leibert had done was endearing. He hadn’t done it for acclaim, money or to be talked highly of long after he died. He did what he believed he had to do because it was the right thing to do. He sacrificed himself because he wanted to, not for any worldly reason.

Also, Diana didn’t want to share the time she and Eric spent together suffering, gaining strength from one another. That time was sacred. The arguments were real. The horror. The grief and sorrow that melted her heart eve now thinking about it, was theirs and theirs alone.

A newspaper had been left folded up on the sofa; probably her father’s. She picked it up and snorted laughter at the front page image a monstrous black mushroom cloud choking the sky. Beneath were the desecrated remains of the Texaco garage. But what made Diana snort laughter was not the graphic, surreal photograph taken from a high vantage point, but he title in bold lettering: GI DI TO THE RESCUE!

Beneath the main picture was an inset photograph of Diana smiling at the photographer. Behind her were the beautiful, neatly trimmed rosebushes in her parent’s back yard. The photo had been taken two years earlier when Diana and Tulisa had gone over her parents on her birthday for a barbecue.

Shaking her head, smiling, Diana folded The Sun newspaper up. ‘Trust you, Dad.’

Tulisa stood next to Diana and craned her head up over her mother’s right arm to see the front page of the newspaper headlines. Diana glanced at her. ‘What a load of nonsense, huh?’

‘It’s true,’ Tulisa said. ‘And I never got the chance till now to say, thank you.’

Diana dropped the paper, forgetting about it. She placed her hands on either side of Tulisa’s head, seeing her reflection in her daughter’s brimming tears. She waited to compose herself. Then in an unwavering voice: ‘And you’ll never have to.’

Mother and daughter embraced, comforted by the other’s warmth. They had made it.