The kids have definitely sensed a change now. Maybe it's because they've been trapped in the flat without contact from anyone else for days. Obviously what they've seen today has made matters worse. They keep asking questions and I don't know how to answer them. I don't know what to say to them anymore. I took the bolt I fixed on Sunday morning off the bathroom door and attached it to the inside of the living room (or 'safe room' as we're now supposed to call it) to try and make everyone feel a little safer. I don't know if it's done any good.
We've been sitting in the safe room for hours and I can't stand it any longer. I get up and wander aimlessly around the flat. I can't sit and do nothing, but there's nothing I can do either. I don't want to talk to anyone. I'm cold and tired and frightened. I walk into Josh and Ed's small room and climb up onto Ed's top bunk. His small screen TV is at the end of the bed. I switch it on and flick through the channels. Nothing worth watching. There are a couple of channels showing repeats of old TV shows, the rest are just showing the public information film that we saw earlier. It's running at exactly the same time on all the major national channels. It must be produced and broadcast by the government. At least I assume it's the government. Who else could it be?
With nothing on TV and no other distractions I find myself looking out of the window just to the side of the bed. I lie down flat on my stomach on the narrow bunk and stare out through the net curtain at the street outside. From here I can see along the full length of Calder Grove - from the still smoking bodies of Woods and his wife right down to the junction of the road with Gregory Street. Apart from the drifting smoke everything else is still. The world feels silent and deserted, as if we've all been put in quarantine from each other. Now and again I catch sight of a lonely figure in the distance. People stick to the shadows and they're gone as quickly as they appear. There's hardly any other movement at all. Once in a while a car passes by, otherwise nothing else seems to move. It's like looking at a freeze-frame photograph of the world.
Why hasn't anyone done anything about the corpses? We've kept the curtains in the living room closed so the kids can't see them. If Woods' wife's body is still there in the morning I might go and throw a blanket over it just so it's out of view. I can see the blackened remains of the dead woman's arms. Her bony hands and fingers are lifted up and clasped together like she's praying or pleading for help.
I don't know what we're going to do. I'm trying not to panic. I don't think we have any choice but to lock ourselves in here and sit this thing out, however long that takes. I don't want to...
'What are you looking at?' a voice suddenly asks from beside me, making me jump. I look round and see that it's Ellis. She's crept into the bedroom and has managed to climb the ladder up to Ed's bed. She peers at me over the top rung with wide, saucer-shaped eyes.
'Nothing,' I answer, rolling over and giving her space to climb up with me. She puffs and pants and drags herself onto the bed.
'What are you doing in here?'
It's difficult to answer. I'm not exactly sure myself.
'Nothing,' I say again.
'You looking at the dead lady?' she asks in a remarkably innocent and matter-of-fact way.
'No, I'm just lying down for a while. I'm tired.'
'Why are you lying on Ed's bed? Why aren't you lying on yours and Mummy's bed?'
Her questions never seem to stop. I wish they would. I'm not in the mood to answer them.
'I wanted to watch the TV,' I tell her, not being entirely honest. 'I haven't got one in my bedroom.'
'Why not watch the other telly with the rest of us?'
'Ellis,' I say, stifling a yawn and pulling her closer, 'shut up, will you.'
'You shut up,' she mumbles under her breath. She yawns too and shuffles closer to me.
For a little while the room is quiet again and I begin to wonder whether Ellis has fallen asleep. But it's not just this room that's quiet - the whole flat is ominously silent. In the distance I can just about hear the muffled sounds of the TV in the living room. Are they being quiet or is there something wrong with the others? Is it because of what's happening outside, or is the isolation and uncertainty starting to have an effect on the rest of my family? Is one of them about to start changing, or have they already changed...? I find myself thinking about what's happening outside again and I'm depressed by a constant stream of dark and uncomfortable thoughts. Surely things can't continue like this indefinitely? There has to come a point when something gives or the situation resolves itself, doesn't there? I don't have any answers and I'm actually relieved when Ellis decides to attack me with another barrage of much easier questions.
'Will we be going back to school tomorrow?' she asks naively.
'I don't think so,' I reply.
'The next day?'
'I don't know.'
'The next day?'
'I don't know. Look, Ellis, we don't know when school's going to be open again. Hopefully it won't be too long.'
'I'm going on a trip next week.'
'I know.'
'My class is going to a farm.'
'I know.'
'We're going on a coach.'
'I know.'
'Will we still be able to go?'
'I hope so.'
'Will you take me if school's still shut?'
'I'll take you.'
She seems happy with that and, again, she becomes quiet. I lie back and close my eyes. The day so far has been long and emotionally draining and it has taken its toll. My eyes feel heavy. In just a few short minutes I feel Ellis' body go limp in my arms. Her breathing changes, becoming shallow and steady and I look down at her. She's dozing, completely relaxed and almost asleep. In a world which has suddenly become completely irrational, unpredictable and fucked-up she remains perfect and unaltered. This little girl means everything to me.
I'm tired. I close my eyes.
I was almost asleep for a second until the image of the girl in the supermarket this morning returned. For a terrifying moment I imagined that it was Ellis, and that she was attacking Lizzie lying on the ground. I'm frightened. I'm petrified by the prospect that whatever it is that's happening outside will eventually find its way into my home and harm my family.
I try to imagine this beautiful little girl attacking me.
I try to imagine me attacking her.