Her Name Will Be Faith (43 page)

She
got up and went into the bedrooms, but amazingly, both Owen
Michael and Tamsin were still fast asleep. But that
thunderclap had
ended her last doubt about leaving.

Then she thought of Marcia and Benny. They should leave
too, and
also seek the safety of
Pinewoods. She reached for the phone and punched
out
the numbers, tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for them to answer, but
there was no response. Her watch showed eleven o'clock, so
there was no possibility they would have gone to
bed. Thus they had to
be out, at a party. She'd have to try them again
later. She replaced the phone, and heard Julian Summers' voice, hastily turned
back to the set.

"We are interrupting this program to bring you the
latest update
on Hurricane Faith. Here is Richard
Connors."

Richard
had changed his wet clothes and was again well dressed and immaculate, but his
face was grave. "Good evening," he said. "This is Richard
Connors, bringing you the latest information we have on Hurricane Faith. Faith
is now a very big storm indeed, the biggest, in terms of wind speeds, ever
recorded. She has sustained winds around the center
of approximately 170 miles an hour, and her present position is here..."
He stood in front of the wall map and pointed with his wand. "The
co-ordinates are 37 degrees 20 minutes North
Latitude. 71 degrees 46 minutes West Longitude. That places her,
as you
can see, 280 miles east by north of Norfolk, Virginia, and exactly
the same distance southeast of New York. You can
also see from her track, that she is now definitely heading northwest. There
was some
doubt about that earlier this evening, but now it is almost
certain that we are going to feel the full effects of the storm here. There is
also some
evidence that Faith is beginning
to quicken. For the past two days she
has been moving very slowly, at an
average of 10 knots. Now the speed
appears to
be increasing, which means that she could be no more than
24 hours away
from us, if that. In any event, she will be here not later than Sunday morning.

"Now this is a highly dangerous storm. I repeat, she
is the most
dangerous storm we have ever seen in this
area. Because of her size and intensity, we have little previous experience to
work on, but with winds this high we can expect extensive damage. This means
most roofs are
going to be at risk, and all
windows and doors will be extremely vulnerable.
There is no glass in the world will stand up to such a force. There may
also even be a risk to complete buildings, unless they have been constructed to
an exceptionally high standard. That
is what the wind will do. But an
even
greater problem will be presented by the storm surge. It could be
as
high as 30 feet, depending on the state of the tide when the hurricane actually
touches land, but the effects will be felt some five hours before
the full force of the storm is encountered. Such a
storm surge would
mean the flooding of vast areas of land along the
coast, and indeed of considerable portions of Manhattan itself. We at NABS feel
that in these circumstances it is our duty to warn you that everyone living
within five miles of the coast in the area stretching from Atlantic City to
Newport,
Rhode Island, must consider
themselves and their property in grave
danger. In the interests of human
safety we urge everyone who can to evacuate these areas before tomorrow
afternoon and certainly all those whose dwellings are situated less than 50
feet above sea level. For those who cannot evacuate, for whatever reason,
instant preparations must be made for a period of up to 48 hours after the
storm has passed through.
Especially is this
important for anyone trapped… remaining in a
high-rise office or
apartment. This is because extensive and prolonged
power outages can be expected as well as a complete failure of the
telephone
system. Additionally, a refuge should be prepared in each
apartment away from external windows and doors,
and a store of drinking
water
ensured. The best way to do this is fill the bathtub, now, while
there
is uncontaminated water available – but that water must be used only for
drinking purposes."

He
paused, and took a sip of water. "We have contacted the Police Department
and asked for their immediate assistance in effecting this evacuation, and we
are looking forward to their co-operation. Now let me stress that there is
absolutely no need for any kind of panic. Hurricane
Faith cannot reach New York before tomorrow afternoon at the very
earliest.
Therefore there is ample time for every man, woman and child
who wishes to do so to leave the city. We hope and
pray that this may
only be a precautionary measure, that Faith may again
change direction
and retreat into the Atlantic, and that the danger may be past by this
time tomorrow night. But until it is past, we must repeat, if your home
is less than 50 feet above normal
water level, and if it is within five miles
of the sea, it may become subject to flooding and
structural damage
during
the next 48 hours. This station will of course remain on the air for
as long as there is power,
bringing you up-dates and information, as they are available. This is Richard
Connors, for the National American Broadcasting Service. Thank you."

"Whew!"
Julian Summers said, and wiped his brow.

"So
here we go," Jayme agreed.

Richard
lit a cigarette, something he very rarely did.

"I
must say," Julian remarked. "I am really amazed that you finally
persuaded JC to put that message out."

"Or
that McGrath agreed to co-operate," Jayme said.

Richard
stubbed out the cigarette again; he had taken only two puffs. "I didn't
persuade anyone," he said.

"You
mean they got the message," Julian suggested.

"No," Richard said. "I couldn't get
hold of JC until half an hour ago;
although
he told me to contact him after the six-o'clock update, he'd gone
out to
cocktails and dinner. Then he flatly refused to allow a warning to go out until
Faith is within 100 miles of the city. Kept repeating that we
had done all we could by forecasting what was going
to happen; it was
up to the city authorities to take whatever steps they
thought necessary,
and if they didn't, well,
to quote his favorite expression, the egg would
be over their faces, not
ours."

"Holy
Jesus Christ," Julian commented. "Does he have any
idea?"

"None
whatsoever. He's prepared to risk maybe a million lives to score a political
point."

"Well, thank God the police woke up in
time," Jayme said.

"Let's hope they do," Richard agreed.

She
stared at him. "You mean..."

"I didn't waste my time trying to get them to move. I
didn't have the
time. New York doesn't
have the time."

They both stared at him. "Let me get this
straight," Julian said at last. "You put out that warning without
JC's permission, and without any reference to the NYPD?"

"It
was the only way," Richard told them. "It had to be done."

"You have any idea what's going to be happening down
there once
that message percolates?"

"So there'll be an upheaval. And the police will
just have to step in
and
sort it out. Just as they should've been doing since this morning. But people
will start to leave the city, and that's all that matters. Sorry, gang,
to
have landed you in it..."

"Oh, we're with you," Jayme said. "But I
guess we'd better barricade
that door."

"And
take the phones off," Julian suggested.

As
he spoke, Richard's buzzed.

"I
think I'll take all calls," Richard said, and picked it up.
"Connors."

"Oh, Mr Connors," the switchboard said. "A
Mrs Donnelly called a
couple
of hours ago, while you were out. She asked for you to call her
back, but you told me you were taking no messages until
your late
forecast."

"Thank
you, Maisie," Richard said. "She'll be out in Bognor, Connecti
cut. Just a moment." He checked his address
book, gave her the number.
"Call
her there, will you." He replaced the phone, looked at his staff
"It'll
take JC a little longer than that to react, I guess."

Jo realized that she had completely misjudged the rapidity
with which
the authorities would get to work once
they were convinced there really was trouble coming. And of course Richard
would not have thought it
necessary to let
her know because he would assume she was already safely
tucked away in
Connecticut. "Oh, damn," she muttered.

But
it would still surely take an hour or so for people to react and get
on the streets. She was already packed, and the
Mercedes was topped up
with gas.

She ran into Owen Michael's bedroom, shook him awake.
"Get
dressed," she said. "Quickly
now."

He sat up, looked at his window, against which the rain
was pounding.
"Is it dawn?" he asked
incredulously.

"Not quite," Jo told him. "But we're
leaving early. Hurry." She went
into Tamsin's room, got
her up as well.

"But Mommy," Tamsin complained. "It's all
dark and rainy out
there."

"It'll
be light in Connecticut," Jo promised. "Now do hurry."

She
returned to the lounge, once again looked around her. She must have left the
apartment something like five hundred times to drive up to Bognor, never with
the slightest doubt that in two days' time she would be back, or that everything
would be exactly as she had left it. Now,
wherever
she glanced, her eye picked up something of enormous personal
importance, presents from her parents, school
trophies, photographs…
a kitchen drawer disgorged plastic carriers and
she rushed from room to room grabbing miscellaneous memorabilia, throwing them
into a jumble
until the carriers threatened
to split. The carriage clock in the lounge
said twenty-five minutes past
twelve and she grabbed it, dropped it into
her
anorak pocket, and jostled Owen Michael and Tamsin out of the
front
door, dashed back for three cans of Coke and some cookies, and finally they
crammed into the elevator with their belongings.

"Mom?"
Owen Michael was at last waking up. "It's only just gone midnight."

"I
know, darling."

"What
an hour to leave town," Tamsin commented.

"What's
the idea, Mom?"

Jo
hesitated. She had to be careful not to frighten them, or get them worrying
about their own treasured possessions such as Owen Michael's
collection of model airplanes. "I thought we'd
surprise Granpa and
Granma."

"Surprise
them?" Owen Michael said. "Holy shit!"

"Now please, Owen Michael," Jo remonstrated, and
breathed a sigh
of relief as the car
came to rest in the lobby. Washington emerged from the office, much to her
surprise. "Washington," she said. "What are you doing
here?"

"I'm on night duty this week, Mrs Donnelly, in place
of Luke Ed
wardes." He eyed the bags. "You
folks going off somewhere, then? It sure is a poor night out there."

"Owen
Michael, go on down to the garage and get yourself and Tamsin settled," Jo
instructed. "Take those bags."

"I
can do that, Mrs Donnelly," Washington protested.

"You can help me with this big one," Jo said.
She watched the children
disappear down the
stairs. "Didn't you see the latest up-date on the hurricane,
Washington?" she whispered. "It's coming straight at us. So I'm
taking the children out of town."

"You are? Heck." His breath came through his
teeth. "No, I didn't
see it. What channel
carried that?"