gns.throwback-第2部分

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screw　her）。　Stop　on　late　if　you　want　and　go　to　Tiffany's　because　you　know　I　don't　like　dancing。　I　know　you'll　jive　all　by　yourself。　（If　you　find　yourself　a　man　for　the　night　please　don't　tell　me　because　it'll　spoil　our　little　game。）
　　
　　But　I　want　to　go　home！　Maybe　under　normal　circumstances　she　would　have　given　way　to　hysteria。　Women　were　crying　and　screaming　all　around　her。　Damn　it；　I'm　going　home！
　　
　　She　stood　up　again。　Funny；　she　should　have　been　weak；　legs　threatening　to　buckle　under　her；　throw　her　back　down　to　the　ground。　But　she　felt　strong；　ill　but　strong。　It　was　illogical；　too　plicated　for　her　to　work　out。
　　
　　She　held　her　bare　arms　out　in　front　of　her；　gazed　at　them　in　revulsion。　It　was　as　though　she　had　dipped　them　in　a　bath　of　scalding　water；　the　skin　peeling　yet　hardening；　knitting　together　again　in　a　strange　kind　of　plastic　coating。　So　rough；　they　didn't　hurt　half　so　much　now。
　　
　　Check　your　reflection　again　in　that　shop　window。　No；　I　don't　want　to　see。　Well；　you　can't　stop　here。
　　
　　She　found　herself　running；　a　crazy　zig…zag　sprint　that　took　her　across　the　road；　weaving　in　and　out　of　cavorting；　stumbling　men　and　women；　reached　the　opposite　pavement。　A　hand　closed　over　her　arm；　grasped　her　wrist；　but　she　threw　it　off。　Keep　going；　up　those　steps　to　the　church　above。　Don't　stop。
　　
　　It　wasn't　a　church。　She　knew　that　only　too　well；　had　been　in　here　often　enough；　every　week　in　fact。　St　Julian's　Craft　Centre；　much　of　the　church　edifice　untouched；　stalls　where　once　there　had　been　pews；　the　altar　removed　during　the　process　of　deconsecration。　Stained　glass　windows　that　flickered　brightly；　had　her　turning　her　head　away　because　her　eyes　hurt。　So　cool　and　refreshing；　she　could　stop　in　here　forever；　die　here！
　　
　　No；　you're　not　going　to　die。　Pull　yourself　together。　A　man；　the　only　occupant　of　the　interior；　features　she　recognised　in　spite　of　the　awful　disfigurement；　but　she　had　never　known　his　name。　He　was　to　be　found　in　here　most　weeks；　a　browser　who　wore　a　long　frayed　black　coat；　summer　and　winter　alike；　a　long　straggling　beard　giving　him　a　bohemian　appearance。　Today　he　looked　wild…eyed　at　her；　acknowledged　her　with　a　smile　that　had　spittle　stringing　down　his　hairy　chin。
　　
　　〃They　。。。　did　。。。　this　。　。　。'He　had　difficulty　getting　the　words　out；　a　physical　effort　like　one　who　stammered；　wrenching　the　sounds　out　of　his　throat。
　　
　　'Who？'　Jackie　barely　recognised　the　sound　of　her　own　voice；　a　nasal　grunt　that　had　her　drawing　in　breath　to　refill　her　lungs。
　　
　　He　regarded　her　steadily；　a　look　that　said；　'You　fool；　you　don't　even　know。'　'The　Russians；'　he　said　at　length；　leaned　his　full　weight　back　against　a　creaking　stall　table。
　　
　　She　stared；　tried　to　take　in　his　words；　let　her　own　personal　puter　process　the　data；　spit　out　the　answer。
　　
　　The　Russians。　Her　mind　threatened　to　go　blank　again；　a　familiar　ominous　word。　The　Russians！　She　had　to　fight　to　prehend　and　it　hurt。　And　then　her　smarting　burning　flesh　went　cold。
　　
　　'The　。　。　。　Russians'
　　
　　He　nodded；　closed　his　eyes　momentarily；　reminded　Jackie　of　a　drowsy　bird　of　prey。
　　
　　'Somehow。　。　。　they've　done　。　。　。　this。'His　breath　rasped　in　his　throat。　'Not　。。。　the　bomb　。。。　we　wouldn't　be　here　now　if　it　was。　Something　。　。　。　else　。　。　。　don't　know　。　。　。　what。'　Fighting　for　air；　wheezing；　holding　hard　on　to　that　table。　'We're　all　going　to　。。。　die！'
　　
　　The　shock　to　her　system　blanked　her　out　again　and　she　moved　away；　walking　unsteadily　across　the　flagged　floor；　her　footsteps　echoing。　An　open　door；　she　knew　she　had　been　through　it　before。　A　corridor；　through　another　open　door。
　　
　　This　time　it　was　the　aroma　of　cooking　food　which　brought　back　her　hazy　powers　of　thinking；　hit　her　like　a　whiff　of　smelling　salts　to　a　fainting　person。　Her　brain　whirred　again；　that　starter…motor　turning　over　sluggishly　and　just　managing　to　fire；　only　just。
　　
　　Of　course；　she　was　in　Delany's。　She　came　in　here　every　week；　baked　jacket　potato　and　cheese　and　a　pot　of　peppermint　tea。　The　familiar　smell　had　revived　her　and　in　that　instant　she　knew　she　had　to　eat。　Whatever　had　happened　to　her　body　it　still　cried　out　for　food。
　　
　　The　vestry　restaurant　in　the　old　church　was　empty。　Ovens　steamed；　a　kettle　was　boiling　dry。　Jackie　moved　up　to　the　counter。　Everybody　had　gone；　spilled　out　into　the　street　leaving　the　food　to　spoil　and　waste；　yielding　to　a　sudden　panic　before　their　reasoning　was　blotted　out。　Hers　would　go　soon；　her　system　could　not　stand　this　stop…start　much　longer。　Then　she；　too；　would　follow　the　masses；　turn　into　a　human　lemming。
　　
　　Some　kind　of　nut　shortcake　in　a　long　tray；　divided　up　into　square　portions。　She　grabbed　one；　took　a　bite；　chewing　noisily　and　spilling　crumbs。　Christ；　she　was　starving　so　she　could　not　be　as　ill　as　she　thought。　A　glance　down　at　her　hands　and　she　jerked　her　eyes　away。　Her　fingers　were　raw；　thicker　as　though　they　were　swollen；　but　not　bleeding。　Just　unsightly；　ugly。
　　
　　Time　wasn't　on　her　side；　any　second　she　might　click　back　into　being　a　mindless　moron　again。　Don't　push　too　hard；　thinking　hurts　but　you've　got　to　get　the　hell　out　of　here。　This　place　was　hell。　The　car；　it　was　parked　on　the　big　riverside　park。　She　thought　she　knew　the　way；　back　down　through　the　Riverside　Shopping　Centre　and　over　the　suspension　bridge。　But　even　if　she　managed　to　find　it；　would　she　be　able　to　drive　it？　You　might　black　out　suddenly。　The　streets　would　be　jammed　with　abandoned　vehicles　and　crowds　aimlessly　blocking　the　way；　mobs　that　would　surely　go　on　the　rampage。
　　
　　Despair。　She　wouldn't　make　it；　neither　could　she　stay　here。　In　that　case　。　。　。　and　somewhere　in　the　recesses　of　her　confused　mind　she　remembered　the　empty　house　in　First　Terrace。　It　was　a　long　way　from　here；　further　than　the　car　park　down　by　the　river；　but　it　was　out　of　town　and　maybe　she　would　make　it。
　　
　　A　year　or　two　ago　she　used　to　go　there　quite　a　lot；　in　the　days　before　Pauline's　mother　had　died。　A　calling　place；　mainly　to　fill　the　afternoon　in　before　it　was　time　to　go　to　Tiffany's。　As　far　as　she　knew　the　place　was　still　empty；　some　structural　problems　that　had　prevented　the　family　from　putting　it　on　the　market。　Subsidence　caused　by　the　drought　of　1976　had　cracked　the　foundations　and；　accord…。　ing　to　Pauline；　the　insurance　pany　were　being　bloody　awkward　about　it；　looking　for　loopholes　and　trying　to　get　the　family　to　have　a　cosmetic　job　done　and　put　it　up　for　sale　at　a　third　of　the　market　value。　They　were　still　arguing；　which　meant　the　place　was　still　unoccupied。　And　for　the　moment　that　was　the　place　to　go。
　　
　　In　those　few　seconds　before　her　mind　fogged　again　Jackie　had　the　foresight　to　fill　her　empty　plastic　carriers　with　food　from　the　counter；　scooping　up　anything　within　reach；　regardless　of　how　it　broke　or　crumbled。　The　rest　of　that　nut　crumble；　handfuls　of　fresh　salad；　some　baked　potatoes　that　were　going　cold。　A　morass；　a　bag　in　either　hand；　and　then　the　mist　came　down　again。
　　
　　She　wandered　aimlessly　around　the　restaurant；　shied　away　from　the　steaming　unattended　stoves　because　fire　terrified　her；　a　creature　seeking　a　way　out　from　an　unfamiliar　place。
　　
　　She　found　her　way　back　into　the　main　church。　That　man　was　still　there　but　now　she　did　not　recognise　him；　did　not　remember　having　seen　him　before。
　　
　　'They　did　this。'　He　regarded　her　with　a　glassy　stare；　still　dribbling。　The　Russians。'
　　
　　Fear；　because　she　did　not　understand　his　words　and　his　whispered　tone　frightened　her。　He　was　a　threat　to　her　safety。　She　ran　blindly；　not　knowing　where　she　was　going；　a　panic…stricken　flight　that　took　her　back　outside　into　the　hot　dazzling　sunlight；　blinded　her　so　that　she　did　not　see　the　flight　of　stone　steps。
　　
　　She　screamed　as　she　fell；　felt　the　impact；　but　strangely　it　did　not　hurt；　rolling；　bumping；　her　inflamed　body　cushioning　the　blows；　still　clutching　those　carriers　as　they　spilled　scraps　of　natural　wholefood　in　her　wake。　Landing　on　the　pavement　below　where　everything　came　back　to　her　again。　The　fall　had　jump…started　her　brain；　set　her　sluggish　reasoning　in　motion　once　more。
　　
　　People　still　milled　about　aimlessly；　unintelligible　shouts　and　grunts　filled　the　air。　Pushing；　shoving；　a　young　girl　screaming　as　they　trampled　her；　maddened　cattle　preparing　to　stampede。
　　
　　Jackie　Quinn　pulled　herself　up；　scrambled　back　up　those　steps；　still　carrying　her　squashed　food。　For　a　few　moments；　at　least；　she　knew　the　way　she　had　to　go；　through　St　Julian's　again　and　out　the　back　way；　keep　clear　of　the　crowds　and　hurry　whilst　she　still　remembered　which　way　to　go。
　　
　　There　were　fewer　people　on　this　side　of　town。　A　woman　was　slumped　on　a　bench；　she　looked　dead；　and　a　man　sat　beside　her　apparently　unaware　of　her　presence。　He　looked　up　once　as　Jackie　hurried　by　but　he　gave　the　impression　that　he　did　not　even　see　her。　He　might　have　been　blind。
　　
　　It　was　amazing；　frightening；　how　her　strength　had　not　waned。　If　anything　she　felt　stronger；　fitter；　except　for　the　smarting　of　her　flesh　and　that　constant　thumping　headache。　In　those　first　few　awful　minutes　（hours？）　she　had　weakened；　felt　abominably　ill；　but　now　that　sensation　had　passed