Kate gets bored and goes back into the house.
‘Want to meet back out here in an hour for a glass of wine?’ says Zoe.
‘Yes please,’ says Ruth.
She manages to persuade Kate to go to bed. ‘What’s the point?’ says Kate, ‘there’s no school tomorrow.’
‘We still have to work,’ says Ruth. Is this all there is now? Work? The only incentive to propel them from one day to another. Everything else – family, friends, meals out, cinema, chance meetings in coffee shops – has disappeared into the darkness. In the end, Ruth lets Kate take her laptop so she can watch a film in bed. Flint arrives and makes himself comfortable on the duvet, just out of reach of Kate’s hand. At least they still have pets and technology, Ruth thinks. They will have to get them through this. As long as the Wi-Fi connection holds up.
When Ruth steps outside, the security light is on and Zoe, wearing a thick, padded coat, is sitting on a chair by her front door holding a bottle of wine.
‘I’ll get a glass,’ says Ruth, ‘and a chair.’
She gets a kitchen chair and places it roughly two metres away from Zoe’s. She puts her glass on the ground and Zoe fills it up. These machinations hardly seem strange to her now.
‘Cheers,’ says Zoe. The light is still on, making the whole scene feel unreal somehow, as if they are on stage.
‘Cheers,’ says Ruth.
Pets, technology, alcohol and neighbours.
The roads are almost completely clear. Nelson drives fast. Bruno, on the back seat, braces himself for the corners like an expert co-driver. Whenever Nelson looks in his rear-view mirror (which doesn’t happen often) he can see the dog’s big ears and alert expression. He really should ring Jan Adams, a friend who is a retired dog-handler, to see if she can look after Bruno during lockdown, but he finds himself loath to lose his companion. Bruno, Nelson thinks wryly, as he takes the turning for the Saltmarsh, is almost the only living creature who wholeheartedly approves of him. All the women in his life – Michelle, Ruth, his mother, his older daughters, Leah, Judy, Jo – have plenty of ideas for how he could be improved. Only Bruno and his two youngest children, Katie and George, think he’s perfect the way he is.
On New Road, civilisation disappears. No more streetlamps or traffic signs. The only light is an eerie green shimmer on the horizon. Don’t look at it, Nelson tells himself. He’s heard enough of Cathbad’s stories about will-o’-the-wisps and ghostly lanterns that lead you to your death. He keeps his eyes on the road in front, although even that seems to have vanished. His headlights reflect back only darkness and Bruno whimpers softly from the back seat.
When Nelson sees Ruth’s cottage bathed in light, he’s at first relieved and then, immediately, worried. Why is Ruth’s security light on? Is it a passing fox or that ridiculous ginger cat, hunting for mice he’s too fat to eat? But, in that case, why is it still on? Nelson drives even faster, although he knows that there are ditches on either side of the narrow road and that one false turn of the wheel could send him and Bruno spinning to their probable deaths.
When he draws up outside the terraced houses, he sees two women silhouetted in the light, as if they are in some sort of play. They are sitting on chairs two metres apart and holding glasses of wine. They both turn to stare at him. As Nelson gets out of the car, Ruth says, ‘Nelson! What are you doing here?’
It’s not the welcome he was imagining.
Nelson takes a step forward until a warning bark stops him. He lets Bruno out of the car and the dog bounds forward. A sudden movement in the bushes indicates the departure of Flint.
‘Hi, Bruno.’ Ruth pats the dog in a way that also requests he keeps his distance.
Nelson, too, suddenly remembers the two-metre rule. He stops, just inside the circle of light.
‘Hallo, Ruth.’
‘Zoe,’ Ruth addresses the other woman. ‘This is Nelson.’ No other identifying information is offered.
‘Hallo, Nelson,’ says Zoe amiably. She’s the neighbour Nelson met in February. The nurse. She’s about Ruth’s age, with dark shoulder-length hair. Like Ruth she is wearing an anorak.
‘We were just having a drink,’ says Ruth, sounding slightly defensive. ‘A socially distanced drink.’
‘It’s the new normal,’ says Zoe.
‘I’ve come to take Bruno for a walk,’ says Nelson, knowing how ridiculous this sounds. ‘I fancied a change of scene.’ Bruno, recognising the W word, barks encouragingly.
‘Is Michelle still away?’ says Ruth.
‘Yes.’
For a moment they all stand there in silence. Nelson is again reminded of a play. One of those God-awful modern plays that Michelle likes, where you pay twenty quid to watch the actors stare at each other.
‘I’ll be off then,’ he says.
‘Be careful on the marsh,’ says Ruth. ‘Stay on the path.’
This reminds Nelson of taking this route with Cathbad, more than ten years ago. There’s a hidden way. Trust me.
‘I’ll be careful,’ he says.
After Nelson’s abrupt departure, Ruth and Zoe finish their wine and say goodnight. Ruth wonders if she should try to explain Nelson’s appearance and disappearance but what is there to say? This is Kate’s father, he’s here because his wife’s away? This is DCI Nelson of the Norfolk Serious Crimes Unit, he’s driven twenty miles in a pandemic to take his dog for a walk? In the end, Ruth just wishes Zoe a good day at work tomorrow. ‘I’m off on Fridays,’ said Zoe. ‘Thank goodness. So I’m here if you need anyone to keep an eye on Kate.’
Ruth thanks her for the offer and the wine and pushes open her front door which she has left on the latch. She goes to stand by the window and looks out into the darkness. The security light has gone off and she can hardly see Nelson’s white car, parked only a few metres away. Will he come back when he’s taken Bruno for a walk? Is that even allowed? The rules say that you can only exercise within walking distance of your home. Of course, Nelson is, to some extent, above the law but Ruth knows that he doesn’t like using his position for personal advantage. In her obsessive reading of Covid news, she has come across some discussion about divorced parents being allowed to see their children. Perhaps Nelson’s visit comes under this heading? But Ruth knows that Nelson did not come to see Kate.
Flint, who ran away at the first sight of Bruno, now squeezes through his cat flap and meows loudly. Ruth feeds him and wonders about pouring herself another glass of wine. At this rate, she’ll be an alcoholic by the end of the first proper week of lockdown. She compromises by putting the kettle on. I’ll have a cup of tea, she tells herself, and then I’ll go to bed. Nelson will drive home. The whole episode will be forgotten in the morning.
She is pouring boiling water onto a tea bag when there’s a soft tap at the window. Ruth puts the kettle down and goes to the front door.
‘Who is it?’ she says.
‘It’s me.’
Bruno charges in and immediately knocks several books off the coffee table. Ruth shuts the kitchen door. Flint will be safe in there and can come and go through his cat flap. When she turns, she sees Nelson watching her from the middle of the room, his dog at his side.
‘I’m not sure you should be here,’ she says.
‘I’m sure I shouldn’t,’ says Nelson.
Ruth knows that she should tell him to go. It’s a pandemic and they are breaking all the rules, to say nothing of the other rules sanctioned by the state and the Holy Catholic Church. But, instead, she’s the one who steps forward and puts her arms round Nelson’s neck, raising her face to his.