Be Prepared!

It wasn’t that Tessa was a hoarder. She just liked to feel she could cope with whatever life threw at her!

HAVE you been planning for the end of the world again?” Tessa shoved the thriller she’d been reading under a cushion as Mark strode into the room. The global disaster within its pages would have to wait until later.

“Sorry?”

Mark chuckled. “Don’t act the innocent. I can always tell, from the state of the kitchen cupboards. I opened one just now to get out some teabags and nearly set off an avalanche of tins.

“It was the same after we went to see that film about a new Ice Age last month. You stocked up on bottled water and baked beans.”

“That was because the water company had turned everyone’s supply off the next day while they were dealing with a problem at the pumping station. We ended up without water for several hours.

“The baked beans were on special offer. I’d have been mad not to take advantage.”

“So what’s the reason for this latest stash?”

“I did some food shopping on my way home from work, that’s all. Cupboards are there to be filled, and buying in bulk saves money.”

Tessa paused to sneeze three times in rapid succession.

“I bought some more chicken soup, too. This cold’s been brewing all week. Half the office seems to be coming down with it.”

“You also bought four tins of peaches, but neither of us even likes them. We should be buying more fresh fruit and vegetables. We’d both be healthier as a result.”

Tessa sat up. “Both?”

Mark nodded.

“I’ve got a sore throat. You wouldn’t believe how many people were coughing around me on the train. Being packed in like sardines didn’t help.”

Those sounded like the perfect conditions for a new, incurable virus to spread like wildfire, Tessa thought, though she didn’t say so out loud.

The three months since Mark had semi-moved in had been an eye-opener on their different lives. They were compatible in many ways, liking the same food and laughing at the same jokes.

When she allowed herself to admit it, Tessa realised she felt more at home with Mark than she ever had with anyone else. Having had her heart broken in the past, that admission meant a lot.

Mark was also amenable about watching Tessa’s favourite disaster films and television series, while she returned the favour with his comedies and spy thrillers.

The kitchen, though, was a different matter. Tessa came from a family that believed in being prepared for all eventualities.

“We had to keep plenty in stock because we lived a long way from the shops,” she’d explained. “My dad’s always been into selfsufficiency.

“He also had a thing about the imminent collapse of society, usually coinciding with general elections, though pretty well anything on the six o’clock news could set him off.

“He grew all our vegetables and insisted on keeping a ‘proper’ fire in the hearth in case of power cuts.

“That did come in useful one winter when there was a freak blizzard and we were without electricity for three days and nights, which meant the central heating didn’t work, among other things.

“I was only about five at the time, but I can still remember us all sleeping in the living-room, huddled round the warmth of the fire.”

She giggled.

“I enjoyed it. We even played Snap by the light of an oil lamp.”

Her dad hadn’t changed. Nowadays his dire predictions were based on climate change and the decline of the bees, though no doubt he’d find more things to add to the list, given time.

Just last week, she’d found out he’d recently taken up fishing.

“Angling,” her mum had told her. “I hope he remembers he’s supposed to throw the fish back, rather than bring them home for our tea.”

They both laughed at that before her tone turned more serious.

“How are you? Have you got rid of all those old books and magazines yet? Not to mention all the clothes that you never wear and probably never will again?”

That was rich, Tessa thought, given the family’s “waste not, want not” ethos, and she said so.

“There’s ‘waste not, want not’ as a matter of common sense, and then there’s hoarding as an emotional crutch and false security.

“Isn’t it time you forgot about what

happened with Kevin? He was totally unsuitable and you’re better off without him, if you ask me. It’s time to put the past behind you and move on with your life.”

Both tasks were more easily said than done.

Her upbringing had affected her outlook, in terms of making sure there was always plenty of food in, and she didn’t live close to the shops now, either. Most local places had closed years ago.

It was easier to drive to the large supermarket or order online, especially with so much cupboard space.

The flat wasn’t meant for one person. Four years ago it had been just the right size for her and Kevin.

When he’d left her for someone else, it had seemed too big for Tessa on her own at first, but she’d got used to it, even just about managing the rent by herself.

Mark brought her back to the present.

“You know, if we were in America you’d probably be called a survivalist.” He sneezed.

“There are more tissues on the top shelf,” Tessa told him. “And no, I wouldn’t. I don’t have a hideout in the woods.”

Sometimes she almost wished she did. Her flat was in a fairly rough area, completely different from Mark’s tasteful tiny apartment in a well-to-do district outside the city centre where he worked.

It was a five-minute walk to his local greengrocer’s. Another two minutes led to the delicatessen which sold his favourite cheese, before reaching the independent coffee shop for an espresso while he read the paper, sitting outside if the weather allowed.

It was another world, and a very enjoyable one, as Tessa knew from the many occasions she’d joined him.

But it was in her flat, being larger, where they mostly spent their time together. Tessa lived within walking distance of a station, which meant Mark could commute.

Still, she could tell he missed his little shops, his pavement café and cooking with fresh ingredients.

Commuting meant a long day for him, while Tessa was too tired in the evenings to cook and had got into the habit of eating from tins and packets.

Habits of all sorts, built up over time, were hard to break.

It was her turn to sneeze again. By now her eyes were streaming.

“Pass me those tissues, will you?” She sniffed. “It looks as though we’ve both got whatever’s going round.”

They ended up taking the next three days off work.

Between them, they got through five boxes of tissues, six cans of chicken soup and the maximum recommended number of honey and lemon sachets.

Tessa half expected Mark to comment how much better fresh lemons and organic local honey would have been for them but, to his credit, he held back.

They also devoured two large tins of rice pudding, which turned out to be oddly comforting, three tins of tomatoes, to go with pasta, and two tins of baked beans. They would have used more of those if they hadn’t run out of bread for toast.

Tessa even found herself eyeing up the canned peaches.

“We still have plenty of supplies left, so long as we’re not too picky. You see, that’s the advantage of having lots of cupboard space,” she said as they lay slumped on the sofa together, watching television and ignoring the pile of old CDS and DVDS that hadn’t been played or watched for years on the floor.

Part of her couldn’t resist surreptitiously flicking over to the news channels every so often, looking out for reports of hospitals suddenly being overwhelmed by a massive outbreak of some mystery virus, but the world seemed to be carrying on as normal.

It was just a common winter cold that they had, then.

Unless information was being suppressed, of course, to avoid widespread panic!

“It would still be better if there were decent shops nearby, where I could nip round and get lots of proper fruit and veg to make sure we have a healthy diet,” Mark replied.

“Then we might not have ended up with this lurgy.” He hesitated. “It would be nice not to have to spend so long travelling every day, as well.

“And don’t get me wrong, but it is rather rough round here. Even you were complaining about how rowdy it was getting outside last night. It’s not ideal, is it?”

Something in the air seemed to shift with that last remark.

Tessa’s heart thudded. Was this Mark’s roundabout way of hinting that he wouldn’t be coming here any more? Was he breaking up with her?

“I know my neck of the woods is pricey,” Mark continued, “but I’m sure you’ll agree it’s a nice place to live, and I’d save a fortune on train fares.” He swallowed.

Tessa braced herself. Here it came!

“So, I was thinking . . . If we both let our current places go and shared the rent we could afford somewhere bigger, near my current flat. It’s an OK route for you to drive to work, too. I’ve already checked.”

As the meaning of his words sank in, Tessa’s heart thudded even more, but for a different reason.

“We couldn’t stretch to anything as big as this,” she said, thinking of the cupboards, always full to the brim just in case.

“There should still be enough room. But you will need to get rid of some of your stuff.”

He picked up the remote and switched off the television.

“I know that won’t be easy for you, but it won’t be the end of the world.

“See it as a new beginning for us, together. I’ll even be able to get proper fresh honey and lemon the next time we have a cold.”

He paused and took a deep breath.

“What do you think?” Tessa looked around the room, at the shelves bursting with old books and ornaments.

Her gaze came to rest on a painting over the gas fire, a sort of nondescript landscape that she didn’t even like. It was only there because it was better than having a blank wall.

Or was it? What if her mum had been right? What if there was a point where she’d crossed the line, filling gaps to build up an emotional crutch against being hurt again?

With Mark she had a sense things would be different. These last three days, even feeling like death warmed up, had shown her that.

She pulled another tissue from the box and snuggled closer to him.

“I think you’ve been dying to say that about the honey and lemon all day. What’s more, I’m going to hold you to it. If we ever get another cold, that is.

“Because we’ll be healthier in our new place from all that fruit and veg, won’t we?”

“We will,” he agreed. “I promise.”

Even if they weren’t, as he’d said, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. She’d done with world endings, anyway. It was time for a new, exciting one.

But first, the book she’d been reading could go straight to the charity shop along with all the other things she wouldn’t be needing any more.

“By the way,” Mark added, “there’s also a jeweller’s shop just round the corner from the delicatessen. I thought we could visit that once we’ve got rid of these sniffles. Only if you want to, of course.”

He grinned.

“After all, a ring won’t take up much room, will it?”