Part 27 (1/2)
”Don't tell us,” Greg mutters just audibly. ”You'd like to take the bottom road.”
”I'd like to help, that's right. Agnes has been shut up long enough. But I haven't got a car.”
”I'd rather not go out by myself if I'm going,” says Mad.
”I don't see why you should.” Connie waits for agreement to begin spreading over Greg's face before she says ”Go out by yourself, that is.”
As Greg shelves the book with a thump like a fist on a table she returns to the counter. She's only reaching for the phone when Woody's voice falls on her. ”Let me guess. The cavalry's here at last.”
”Not exactly. Well, not really at all. We think something may have happened to Ross or he'd be back by now and there'd be help.”
”All the news is bad, huh? That's why you all look like you're stuck in mud. Okay, let's see if I can get you 341 moving,” Woody booms like an uncle talking at a child, and begins to sing. ”Goshwow, gee and whee, keen-o-peachy ...8 ”We're just deciding what to do.” Connie raises her voice to give it some authority or counter his. ”Actually, we've decided. There's more than one place we could phone for help from, so we think it'll be best if we make a concerted effort.”
”Talk English, Connie. I don't get why you Brits have to dress things up fancy.”
Jake feels like shouting that they invented the language, but he would only be extending the argument that seems to be gathering around them, embedding them in the stagnant twilight. He has the notion that Connie intends to free herself of it by saying ”I want to send people out to both of them.”
”And how about the reason we're all here?”
”Getting the shop ready for tomorrow, well, today, you mean.”
”Tell me another if you know one.”
”We're never going to be able to finish in time now. I'm certain your New Yorkers will understand.”
”Yeah? I don't. See if you can make me.”
”The light's too bad. The further you go from the window the worse it gets. We don't want people ruining their eyes for nothing and having to go home, do we? I wouldn't be surprised if we all end up in bed with colds as well.”
”You think that's too much to ask of the team when they promised to fix up the store.”
”We've already been through that. There won't be time. Don't worry, you won't be on your own. I'll stay.”
”You won't be the only one,” Greg declares.
”Greg's saying he will too, and there's Angus and Ray even if they haven't had any luck with the fuses.”
'That right? You two still there? I'm talking to Ray and Angus.”
They grunt beyond the door in the darkest corner of the 342 shop, so nearly in unison that they might be speaking in a single m.u.f.fled voice. 'They said yes,” Connie transmits.
”So they're still working on the fuses, right?”
”Yes,” the double voice responds.
'Tell me, Connie.”
”They say they are.”
”So let's give them a while longer. Could be they're almost there.”
”Don't you think Agnes has been brave long enough? If I were her I'd be making a lot more fuss by now.” With a movement that suggests an attempt to wriggle free of the r.e.t.a.r.ded discussion Connie turns, covering the mouthpiece with her hand. ”Anyone who's going, go. I'll take the responsibility. The door isn't locked.”
Jake lingers to replace on the pile the book he's holding rather than simply dropping it. He and Mad and Jill are abreast of the counter when Woody says ”I don't believe what I'm seeing. Looks like the dogs are out of their gates.”
”They're all trying to leave,” Greg shouts. ”It doesn't need them all, does it? I don't think they'll come back.”
”Try it shriller and maybe he'll hear you,” Jake says before he realises Woody can through the receiver Connie is no longer soundproofing.
”I guess maybe I don't either. Okay, everyone back to the shelves.”
”I said go,” Connie insists, jabbing the receiver towards the exit.
”You wouldn't say that if he wasn't out of action,” says Greg.
Jake's eager to watch her squas.h.i.+ng him but is even more anxious to leave. As he hurries past the counter with Mad and Jill in his wake, Woody says in a voice like a huge false smile ”Hey, am I not getting through any more? I can hear myself fine.”
”You are,” Greg shouts and nods hard at the ceiling. ”Everyone can hear.”
Jake closes his fist around the metal handle, which feels 343 as cold and wet as a stick pulled out of mud. He has to blame his handful of sweat, which must also explain why the metal gives the impression of crawling with rust He tugs at the handle, and the gla.s.s door vibrates against its twin with a faint low gong note, but that's all. ”Connie,” he says higher than he means to. ”It's not unlocked.”
”It shouldn't be, either,” Greg remarks.
”It is, Jake. That's how I left it. Just push, pull, I should say.”
Jake does both, vigorously. The gla.s.s clanks like a large loose pane in a storm while the fog beyond it stirs as though it's either mocking the movement he's desperate to produce or gathering itself to confront him. He shakes the door until it jangles, and then says as calmly as he's able ”If it isn't locked I don't know what it is.”
Connie plants the receiver firmly on its stand and strides to give both doors an interrogative shake. ”I don't understand, but it's all right,” she says and types numbers on the keypad before triumphantly flinging the doors wide. At least, that's clearly her intention, but the result is no more than a paralysed gla.s.sy clank.
”Forgotten the code again?” Woody enquires, audibly smiling. ”Don't ask me.”
”That was right. I know it was,” Connie a.s.sures everyone but him, and keys it in a second time, then hauls at the doors until they creak. Jake almost cries out, afraid that they'll shatter, leaving her clutching the handles and riddled with fragments of gla.s.s. At last she lets go, panting ”It's got to be something to do with the power.”
Jake is about to break the silence, which feels like the imminence of thunder, when Jill says what he's thinking. ”We'll have to break our way out, then.”
”I don't know if I want to be responsible for that,” says Connie.
”Just don't be responsible for stopping us,” Jake blurts. ”They'll be broken sooner or later,” Mad says. How else are the emergency people going to get in?” 344 Connie fingers her lips as if she's feeling for her own expression before saying ”What would you use? We can't have anybody hurt.”
None of them has noticed that Greg has dodged behind the counter to the phone until Woody says overhead ”Something you think I should know, Greg?”
”They're saying they'll smash the door down.”
”They won't be doing anything like that. Tell them so n.o.body can say they didn't hear.”
”Woody forbids it,” Greg says and, as if to please him further, doesn't entirely resist smiling.
”Pa.s.s me the phone, please.” By the time she finishes speaking Connie is opposite Greg at the counter and thrusting out a hand. ”Give it to me,” she practically spits.
”Woody, do you want me to--was ”Do as you're told.” She grabs the phone away from his face, and the earpiece clubs him on the ear. ”That was your fault,” she informs him, turning away from him. ”If we don't open it somehow, Woody, what's going to happen to Agnes?”