Won't Catch On

Stefano Costantini

Light.

White light.

The room is clean, serene.

The machine makes the same noise. Over and over.

Every couple of seconds.

White walls. Lynoleum floor.

Faint footsteps in some distant corridor.

The window is open. A gentle spring breeze comes in.

It flushes away the smell, just for a few seconds for a few seconds.

Hot skin on cold metal.

***

- Time to go, - Marc Lafont thinks.

8.30pm. Already.

The office is getting empty.

He doesn’t have the energy to stay any longer.

Over the years, he’s put in a few late nights.

Despite that, he hasn’t managed to get that promotion. So he has settled. The salary is good. And he has done better than all of his ex-classmates. Back at home, some are struggling with temporary jobs. Most are still unemployed.

He took a risk. He moved to London. It paid off.

This job is taking up most of his waking hours, though. He knows he should put a stop to it. The bank isn’t giving him he deserves. He shouldn’t give them everything in exchange.

Still, he keeps on working late. Every day.

And apparently it isn’t enough.

- Skiving off again, Lafont?

- Shut up, Stephen. You know it’s late. You should be going home too.

- I know, I know. But look at those guys over there. Really going for it. They don’t seem too happy right now but, come bonus time, they’ll be smiling, I can tell you that.

- Sure, like every year. I’ve been there, once. But, Stephen, you and I should just go home and get some rest. No point in killing ourselves anymore.

- Listen to yourself, Marc. What about doing your duty for the bank? You’ve become cynical, haven’t you?

- Come on, you know I’m right. Otherwise we’d be managing our own accounts already.

- Yes, you’re right Lafont. We’ve been left behind, plain and simple. So screw them. A couple more hours and I’m going. By the way, your words are great for morale, you know?

- That’s the attitude, - Marc says. - In the meantime, I’m off. I’ve had enough of this.

He really has. He knows it well. He has been living the same life for over ten years now. He just doesn’t want to admit that to himself.

It was exciting, at the beginning, when he still felt he had an objective he could reach. That kept him going.

And so ten years have passed.

Marc wonders where they’ve gone.

Now he knows that he’s failed. He has had his chance, like everyone, and missed it, like most. However much he works, he wouldn’t go much further now. That is clear. And it has been clear to everyone that knew him.

For some time.

His inertia has kept him going for a few more years.

Now it’s clear to him too.

Yes, it is time to go home. Get some dinner, watch some TV. Go to sleep.

Ready to start again the following day.

His job is an anaesthetic. Drip-fed, day by day.

Marc doesn’t want to wake up and feel the pain.

***

- So, any news?

- Nope, - Marc says.

- But are you ok?

- Yes, dad.

- Oh great, two syllables this time. Perhaps with a little effort I can get a few more out of you.

- Dad, I’m sorry.

- There you go! I’ve managed it.

- Nice joke, dad, - Marc says.

His father is actually taking away his will to talk more. But he makes an effort.

- Listen, I’m sorry I’m not very talkative. I’m just tired. Tough day at work. But also, there’s nothing new to report. Same routine.

- And you’re happy with that, aren’t you? You don’t seem too excited about being there. You used to be.

- What can I tell you dad, everything grows old after a while. But I’m fine here.

- I can see that. And that’s the problem. You’ve settled for what you have. They pay you well. Better than anything you could ever hope to make over here, assuming you could find a job.

- Yes, I’ve done well, haven’t I?

- Oh certainly. But you’re in a golden cage now. You’re not going to go up if you stay where you are?

- How do you know? I work hard and one day my efforts will pay off.

- Marc, please don’t kid yourself. We’ve had this conversation already. And you’ve already agreed with me.

- Perhaps. But I’ve changed my mind. I think I can do well, I just need to keep going.

- As you wish. But please don’t kid yourself. You’ve done well, but now you’re just wasting your time. If you keep on going like this, one day you will wake up and forty years will have gone by. Not just ten. Listen to me.

His father is right, of course. But Marc has had enough of being told what to do.

- You know this because this is what’s happened to you, isn’t it, dad? And now that you’ve retired you don’t have anything better to do than providing advice so that other people don’t make the same mistake.

- I just want you to be happy, Marc.

- Then let me do whatever I think it’s best for me. I’m not a child anymore.

- Of course. I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget you’re an adult now.

- I’ve been one for a while, dad. - Marc says. - Get me out, please, - he thinks.

He tries to ignore this thought.

- Indeed. Anyway, your mother’s here. Do you want to say hello?

Marc sighs: one more effort.

- Sure, put her on.

- Marc?

- Hello, mum.

- Hi Marc, how are you? Everything’s fine?

- Sure, fine as always.

- Listen, I’ve heard on the news that the flu season is about to start. Be careful.

- Mum, every year the same story. You know I get a flu jab at work.

- Ah yes, I forgot. That’s kind of them to provide the jab for free?

- Kind? Mum, that’s only because providing the flu jab costs less than having lots of people taking sick days. No one does anything out of kindness.

- I think you’re wrong, Marc. Don’t be so cynical. Anyway, have you met anybody?

- Mum, this story again? No I haven’t. I will meet someone when I meet someone. I don’t want to stress out about this. And you shouldn’t stress me out either.

He’s stressing out about this of course. Big time. How could he not?

- That’s not my intention. I just want you to be happy.

- I know, I know. Thanks. Just to put any pressure on me.

- Fine, I’ll shut up.

- Ok, thanks. Listen, mum, I need to go. Have some food and then go to sleep. It’s been a long day.

- Of course. Well, nice to hear your voice. We should speak more often.

Marc isn’t too sure about that. Every time he speaks to his parents he just gets stressed.

After hanging up, he feels guilty that he isn’t able to have a normal conversation with his parents.

A good relationship.

But it annoys him that they always try to give him advice on how to live. He needs it, but he shouldn’t, he thinks.

Great way to end a long day, anyway.

Bringing some residual anger to the kitchen, he has a rushed dinner. Then he watches some TV, before falling asleep on the sofa.

He wakes up at about 1am. Slightly dizzy. He drags himself to bed.

It has been a tough day.

Tomorrow there will be a new one.

An identical one.

***

Toast. Jam. Juice.

Some coffee.

A cigarette would be nice. But he’s quit.

Marc will need more coffee during the day. Much more.

For a second, he weighs the pros and cons of leaving his dirty dishes in the sink until the evening. Then, as always, he decides to wash them. To get this task out of the way. He will have have various other tasks to worry about later on.

He switches the radio on to while the washing up away.

Current affairs.

- … And so you’re saying that this year’s strain may be more virulent that expected?

- Correct. At first, based on the characteristics of the strain that we observed in the Southern Hemisphere during the summer, we thought that this year we’d have a run-of-the-mill flu. Now it looks like it may be slightly stronger than that.

- You’re saying you’ve miscalculated the risk?

- Well, viruses mutate fairly rapidly, even within the space of a few months. Mutations occur almost always while the virus migrates to our hemisphere, but generally they do not change the virulence of the strain.

- Generally, Dr. McKechnie?

- Yes, sometimes there is a change, which could make the virus milder or more aggressive. It’s still early days, but it looks like the virus might have become more aggressive in this case.

- Early days, Dr. McKechnie? There are about twenty people severely ill at Birmingham Hospital and you’re telling me you’re not sure yet.

- No, what I’m saying is that, while this virus looks more aggressive than we thought, we don’t think the general public should be concerned. For two reasons. First, the patients at Birmingham hospital are a small fraction of all the people that we think are already infected. This is in line with normal infection patterns. Second, we don’t think the virus’s genetic make-up has changed to such an extent to make the virus resistant to the vaccine that is currently being distributed. So, I would still advise people over sixty-five and other patients with respiratory conditions to take the vaccine. For all the others, the usual recommendations apply. Wash your hands and use tissues. Other than that, everything should be as normal.

- You make it sound easy Dr. McKechnie, but the fact is that one of the patients has died and others are in a critical condition.

- That is correct. But I repeat, I must stress that this is a normal occurrence for all flu epidemics. The patient that died had severe pre-existing conditions. And so do the patients that are currently receiving care at Birmingham Hospital.

- So, nothing to worry about, then?

- Well, we will continue to monitor the situation and provide further information to the public, as and when required. But for now, I don’t think we need to be concerned.

- Dr. Gilbert McKechnie of the the Health Protection Agency, thank you very much.

- Thank you.

Marc has finished doing the washing up. He has actually finished five minutes ago, but he has carried on listening.

He had always been fine so far. Nothing more than a cold. But he is scared of getting sick.

He is alone.

If he needed help, there wouldn’t be anybody available to provide it.

He doesn’t know his neighbours.

He doesn’t have friends that would be willing to help. Nor would he be willing to ask.

He’s worried: after all, he has some pre-existing condition too. His asthma is under control, but he still has it. And it flares up, every now and then.

He is going to get the flu jab this year too. He’d rather go to the office, and work, work, work, than spend a week incredibly sick.

He knows how to do the former.

Dealing with the latter: he would be lost.

***

The last few days have been a blur.

Marc thinks he likes what he’s doing. It’s as if he has conditioned himself to think in this way. As if no other reality would be possible.

Perhaps it’s easier this way: it takes away the need to think.

Like most days, he starts the day checking the emails that have piled up overnight. Until some time ago, he would deal with them at home, from his bed, before going to work.

Not anymore. He’s not a slave, after all.

There is a message from Laura, the HR manager: quite a few people are off sick. The flu season has started, she says. People should get the flu jab, she says. The joke’s on her, she says, in a rare spurt of self-deprecation. She is at home with the flu. She will try to work from home, she says, but this bug is a nasty one so she might flag at some point in the day.

Marc isn’t used to paying attention to other people at work. He gives a quick look around.

About twenty people are out of the office.

He can’t remember a time when so many people have been off sick because of the flu.

Marc has taken the vaccine, kindly offered by his employer.

He has managed to forget about his fears for a while.

Now they are back.

***

Everywhere.

It is everywhere.

Flu. Flu. Flu.

INFLUENZA.

All headlines are full of flu.

Newspapers and television.

Quite a few people have died. At Birmingham Hospital and now in other hospitals around the country. In London, Charing Cross Hospital, St. George’s and the Royal Free have all had fatal cases.

People are beginning to get restless.

During the previous weekend, as he was out on his weekly grocery shopping trip, Marc noticed longer queues than usual and fewer items on the shelves. People were stocking up.

Perhaps he should have done the same.

Once again, he’s managing to keep his fears under a thin layer of busyness, blocking out any time to think.

He has ignored the usual scaremongering from the media. He has learnt to take what they say at one tenth of its face value.

So far, he has always turned out to be right.

He’s decided that he doesn’t want to give in to the panic. Next time he goes shopping, he will buy a couple more bottles of mineral water, and perhaps some extra food. No more than that.

The flu jab protects him.

Why should he care? If people want to load up like mules they are free to do so. It’s not his problem, as long as he can find some humous on the shelf.

***

Evening.

Marc is falling asleep in front of the TV. Once again.

Rolling news.

At some point, the presenter announces two guests. One is a Dr. McKechnie of the Health Protection Agency. The name sounds familiar, thinks Marc. The other is Paul Taylor of the Department of Health.

They are talking about the flu of course.

Marc sits up.

- So the situation is quite serious, Dr. McKechnie, isn’t it?

- Well, I won’t deny that it is serious. We believe that we have reached pandemic status. The strain is more virulent than expected and we’re seeing the consequences of that. Having said that, while there have been more fatalities than usual, this is only because more people have been infected. The share of infected population requiring hospitalisation has not increased, compared with other flu epidemics.

- But most of the patients that have been hospitalised have died, isn’t it true? This is not in line with previous experience.

- I do agree with you, John, that the situation may be slightly more severe than usual. However, I must stress that almost all patients that died had pre-existing conditions which made their body less able to fight off the infection.

- I see. So, Mr Taylor, your advice remains the same?

- Indeed it does, John. When you sneeze use a tissue. Avoid crowded places. And if you feel unwell, do not go to work, nor to the A&E, unless you feel very unwell. The aim is to avoid putting extra pressure on the health system while, at the same time, protecting others from being infected.

- Paul, if I may add, - Dr. McKechnie says, - I’d like to stress the importance of the flu vaccine for people that have some pre-existing condition, especially respiratory ones. As well as the over-sixty-fives in general. We do believe the vaccine is effective at protecting people from the infection, as the genetic mutation that the virus has gone through is not very significant.

- Just enough to make it a little nastier, isn’t it so, Dr. McKechnie?

- Correct Paul. This year, all health professionals, myself included, have got the flu jab to allow us to continue to provide our services without interruptions.

- So, to sum up, nothing to panic about. Just a little of extra care, and we should weather this one just fine.

- Absol…

Dr. McKechnie had starts coughing.

A proper coughing fit, it seems.

He is gasping for air, reaching for the glass of water that he has left untouched until then.

The camera cuts to the presenter, who, somewhat worried, manages to move on to the next topic.

But Marc can still hear Dr. McKechnie coughing in the background, as the presenter is speaking.

Every breath is a struggle.

He switches off.

He decides not to think more about that. He has got the jab, he will be fine.

Marc goes to bed.

It takes him more than three hours to fall asleep.

Dr. McKechnie got the jab, didn’t he?

***

Almost no one on the Northern Line.

That isn’t normal.

On a normal day, at that time Marc needs to squeeze into the train, pushing complaining commuters further inside. Over the years, he has perfected his technique. He knows where the train doors open. He also knows how to spot gaps between people. There’s always a gap.

Sometimes he wishes that applied to real life too.

Today, he doesn’t need his technique.

Plenty of free seats. At first, he is pleased: it’s a commuter’s dream.

Then he starts wondering about what could have happened. Perhaps the line is closed further down due to a signal failure. He wonders whether he is actually going to get to work on time. As there aren’t many people around, then the tube isn’t working as expected. That must be it. He will be late for work. Stuck in a tunnel.

But, no, everything is working fine, it seems.

He picks up a copy of the free newspaper from an empty seat. Apart from yesterday’s headlines about the flu, there isn’t anything else worth reporting. They’ve still managed to fill the pages, though. Marc gets lost reading the gossip in the back pages. He has never been interested in celebrities, but he’d read anything on the tube.

Anything to while the time away.

Still, an empty tube is strange.

The trains are empty. So is the station at his stop. No one in the walkways. No one on the escalators.

No one, apart from the station staff. They looked like they’d rather be somewhere else.

- Nothing unusual there, - Marc thinks.

As soon as his phone regains a signal, he checks the news.

Then he understands.

Overnight, the Health Protection Agency has issued a public health warning. The current flu epidemic has officially been declared a pandemic. Due to the aggressiveness of the virus, the public has been advised to stay at home. So it isn’t just a matter of avoiding crowded places anymore. It’s a matter of sealing yourself in.

Maybe he should have stocked up on food and water.

The rest of the news is even worse. The hospitals, too full, are turning patients away, even very sick ones. Doctors are falling ill too.

So much for the vaccine, Marc thinks.

He is close to his office now. There is no point in going back home. He is sure that his colleagues will be there.

(The flu? Nice try, Lafont!)

Besides, he feels in need of some office banter. Just speaking with someone, anyone, make him better. Empty talk is better than no talk. No, he doesn’t feel like going home again.

- It would be a shame wasting such a good commute, - he jokes to himself.

It doesn’t make him feel any better.

***

There isn’t much office banter. It’s never been that great, but that morning Marc is hoping for some, at least. He would even stand jokes about his lack of ambition, his skiving off. Anything to take his mind off the flu.

Going to the office has not calmed him down.

For the whole morning he can’t do any work. He is supposed to draft up two research notes. Normally, it takes him a couple of hours. After all it’s just a copying and pasting job, with some extra effort to fill in the gaps.

Not this morning. His mind can’t stay with the task at hand. It keeps wandering off in all directions. Several times, he thinks he should go home. But every time he decides against it. He’d rather not be alone.

The office is more than half-empty, though.

Lots of missing colleagues.

More than a few days ago. So many that the HR manager hasn’t bothered to write her usual email. When Marc thinks about it, he notices that they haven’t heard from the HR manager in a few days.

***

Lunchtime.

Marc isn’t hungry but he tells himself he has to eat something, if he wants to last the afternoon.

He can’t find any colleague willing to leave the office. He wanders off alone in search of a sandwich.

Most shops haven’t bothered to open. Whether there were anticipating not having too many clients, or their employees were scared themselves, Marc doesn’t know. All this gives him an eerie feeling. He regrets having left his office. He feels safe there.

Eventually, he finds a chain sandwich shop, where he bought an artisan roll and a coke. The roll isn’t fresh. Probably not enough people have turned up in the kitchen that day. At the till, the assistant charges him without even looking up, as if she is trying to keep the distance. Perhaps she is worried too. Or just rude. Marc doesn’t care. In fact, he is quite pleased she doesn’t look at him.

She would see a scared guy.

He goes back to the office and checks the news. He has never been able to work and eat at the same time. He may as well take a break. Not that he would manage to finish any work today.

- LONDON, 1.15pm. Multiple unconfirmed reports suggest that the current flu pandemic might has hit the heart of the political system. Several cabinet ministers are reported to be in intensive care, and there are rumours that the prime ministers may have been taken ill this morning. All of her official appointments for today have been postponed to dates to be decided. Number 10 hasn’t provided any official statement regarding the situation, though we have received unconfirmed rumours that at least one cabinet member might have passed away this morning. We know that all cabinet ministers have taken the flu vaccine, although this might have been too recently for the necessary antibodies to develop. More news will be provided as the story develops. Meanwhile, the Health Protection Agency has reiterated his advice to stay indoors whenever possible.

- That’s it, I’m going home, - Marc thinks.

He stands up, grabs his coat, makes his way out.

No one says anything.

They must have read the news too.

He is quite anxious to get home.

But London takes its toll on time.

Despite the empty station and train, the tube trip takes ages. There are only a few passengers around, each holding a handkerchief to their mouth. Marc does thes same, despite doubting it could help.

He just wants to be at home.

As he is walking from the station to his flat, Marc thinks he should stop to buy some food and water. He still has some at home, but he doesn’t know for how long he would have to be there.

He is about to go in, when he notices that the shop is almost empty of stuff, and full of people. He decides against going in. Against fighting for food and water with sick people. He will ration his existing supplies, instead.

It will probably be a matter of days.

He gets to his flat in a rush.

He slams the door behind his back and sighs with relief.

He should be safe now.

***

First day at home.

Laptop on. All systems go.

Ready to do some work.

But Marc just can’t do anything.

After a night spent tossing about in bed, he keeps on watching his computer screen screen. He tries to start working several times, but each time his attention escapes. It escapes to the TV, tuned on the twenty-four hour news channel. Or to news websites.

Which he keeps on checking.

News. News. News.

It keeps getting worse.

It looks like the whole world is getting sick. The live updates on the website are getting slower and slower. The journalists are getting sick by the minute. The live twitter stream is drying up. On TV, the news are read by one presenter instead of two. And she doesn’t look well. Instead of being live all the time, they’ve started showing repeats.

Public services are beginning to be severely affected too. First, hospitals and general practitioner surgeries. Bursting at the seams. Then the police and the fire brigade.

Looting has begun. People that don’t have anything to lose are trying to win something at this game. Short term thinking. Even if it could cost them their life. Which probably isn’t worth preserving, Marc thinks.

As opposed to his life, of course.

Several fires have started in town. Marc can see the black smoke from his attic window. Houses built of wood, they burn up in a few minutes. The fire brigade can’t do anything about them. Marc hopes the fire doesn’t reach his street.

He tries to do some work to calm himself down.

He still has those two research notes to complete. He doubts his clients would be interested in something like this at this time. But the market is still open. In theory: his email and phone have been quiet this morning.

After a while, he manages to lose himself into his work. The anaesthetic is working well again. Moments of relief, punctuated by the occasional second of fear. But he is getting by.

Then a sneeze.

Another.

And a coughing fit.

- What’s going on? - Marc thinks.

He knows what is going on. He has caught the flu.

Time’s up.

He feels the cold sweat on his back against the metal chair.

- Wait. Wait. Wait, - he thinks. - I’ve taken the vaccine. I should be fine. Even if I catch it, it should come in an attenuated form.

He tries to find the voice of reason inside himself.

- It’s probably just my allergy. Or a mild form of flu. But I’ll be fine, I’m sure. It’ll probably be just a couple of days.

He goes to the kitchen to get a sip of water and calm his irritated throat.

He has run out of bottled water, but the water from the tap is perfectly fine. That’s what the water company always says.

It is cold outside, and the water is icy.

It tastes good.

***

A few days pass.

Marc’s cough hasn’t gone away. But it hasn’t got any worse. He’s still sneezing from time to time. His nose is dripping.

- Bloody allergy, - Marc thinks. Pretending to be annoyed by a bout of hay fever he wished he had. Wishing it with all his heart.

From time to time, Marc stops by one of the windows in his flat.

He looks outside.

Some fires were still on. But he is more worried by what he sees in his street.

A corpse.

Someone that has died on his way. Perhaps on his way home, hoping to reach it before it is too late. Clinging to hope, but fading in a dark cloud of desperation. Or maybe on his way out, unable to stand the solitude. Or the hunger, the thirst and the fear.

He hasn’t gone far.

The corpse has been there for a few days now. Face down. One arm bent behind his back.

No one gave him any help.

There aren’t many people around anyway. Those that are have better things to do.

Marc hasn’t thought for a second about going downstairs. Or calling someone.

After all, what could they do for him now?

He has lost his battle. The end.

They should save their energies for those that can still make it.

Like himself.

Marc thinks he can still make it. He still has some food left and he has managed to quench his thirst by drinking from the tap.

It hasn’t been so bad.

Still that cough. It isn’t going away.

Marc goes downstairs to grab another glass of water.

As he is entering the kitchen he hears a voice. He’s forgotten the radio on.

- …and so, let me repeat that, - the announcer is saying, - the Health Protection Agency is advising everyone to stay indoors until the pandemic peak has been reached, which should be in a few days.

- Some good news at last, - Marc thinks. He just needs to wait it out for a few days.

- …it also advises that no one drink from the public water supply, as the virus has been found to be able to spread using this channel. We repeat, the virus does not spread just through the air, but it has also entered the water supply. While it is unclear whether the virus could be dangerous if ingested, active viruses have been found in the water. Given the uncertainty and the high virulence of this strain, the public is advised to use their supply of bottled water.

- Which bottled water supply? - he thinks.

***

Marc has convinced himself that he is through. Even without drinking bottled water during most of his time at home. Probably the flu jab has protected him.

He’s made it.

He almost doesn’t want to admit that to himself. He doesn’t want to speak too soon.

But he’s happy.

The news reports that, while the epidemic is still ongoing and the emergency isn’t over just yet, it is probably over the peak. The number of new infections is going down.

Many people have died.

According to official sources, the number of people that have died means that there will be severe repercussions on all services. Police, ambulance, fire brigade. It would taken a long time for things to get back to normal. And it would be the same in the private sectors. Several reports indicate that shops will be understaffed. Offices will be half empty. This epidemic has hit the economy heavily.

But maybe, this epidemic has opened a gap for Marc.

There will be fewer people around, - he thinks. - Fewer competitors.

What has happened is terrible. A tragedy.

But, it’s also his second chance.

So far, he has never taken any initiative to get himself out of the hole in which he has ended up.

Now the world gives him another chance. He doesn’t deserve it, of course. He doesn’t know why, out of everyone, he has been given this chance.

Most of his ambitious colleagues have died. They won’t be coming back.

But he is still here.

It isn’t fair. But things never are.

He’s not going to miss this second opportunity. There won’t be a third one.

Marc coughed. Heavily, this time.

- Bloody allergy, - he thinks.

He goes to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of tap water.

But he stops before opening the tap. He has drunk tap water during the last few days, when he didn’t know that the virus could spread via the water supply. Now he knows. He doesn’t want to risk it again.

Not now that he’s almost made it.

The infection is on the wane. He will probably be fine, especially if he makes sure he doesn’t come too close to other people.

And if he keeps a handkerchief on his mouth and nose. He is also running out of food. He needs some more for the last few days at home.

Yes, now it is time to take a small risk. The last one, before his new life can start.

He will just nip out to buy some food and water. A short walk to the shops and back.

Some fresh air will be good for his allergy too.

***

Was it a dream?

He isn’t sure.

Light and darkness come and go.

Yes, he’s dreamt. Once again.

His mind keeps going through the last few days.

He was about to pop out to buy some food. Just a quick walk. A minimal risk.

He has finally made it. His second chance has arrived.

Hot skin on cold metal.

His face is burning.

He can’t swallow.

The tube that is pumping air in his lungs is filling up his throat.

Bloody allergy.

The machine is struggling.

It would soon give up.

Barcelona, 28th March 2013

Table of Contents

Chapter One - Story