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Coyle showed him to the door； but did not remain to see him reverse hesitantly out into the road。 He went straight back into the living…room。
Jane sat still and silent； with no sign of tears。 They had all been shed。 Only the bitterness remained。
In the awkward silence； he poured himself a whisky。 He decided against offering her one。 There were still fragments of glass on the carpet。
'Is it true what you said？' Jane spoke at last； her eyes fixed on her husband。
'I'd hardly lie about a thing like that； would I？'
'No； I suppose not。 Only life's been nothing but lies lately。 Lies； lies； and more lies。 Still； it'll all soon be over； won't it？ Over for all of us。 This crazy Balzur you're obsessed with will have his way in the end。'
'It rather looks that way； with a radioactive leak。 Either it'll have to be released into the atmosphere； which will poison us all； or else there'll be the equivalent of countless atomic bombs exploding just up the road。 Exactly who will make the decision； I've no idea。'
'And even if the level of radioactivity isn't reached；' Jane said； 'they'll be left with a cloud of deadly vapour which they won't know what to do with。'
'They'll probably find some way of solidifying it； and disposing of it along with the rest of this bloody waste。'
'And we'll all live；' she laughed； this time hysteria predominant。 'I pray God that we don't。 Oh； God； how I pray that we don't have to live on any longer； any of us！'
Chapter 10
Friday； midnight。 The Prime Minister's broadcast to the nation followed the late…night horror movie； fantasy suddenly being reality。 Earlier announcements meant that many people stayed up late for it； though most had no idea of its context beforehand。 Possibly the pound had crashed。 Others went to bed at their usual time。 It would all be in the morning papers； anyway。
Coyle sat beside a silent Jane。 Neither had spoken for the past three hours。 The television had blared on； none of the programmes registering in their bemused brains。 At last came the special announcement。 Coyle wondered why all earlier programmes had not been suspended。 No； that would have been a mistake。 The facts had to be put before the nation with a total absence of melodrama。 The full effects would be felt on the morrow。 In spite of everything； life had to maintain a level of routine。 Everything could not suddenly e to a halt。
Coyle became aware that the Prime Minister was simply reading the same speech which Dyne had delivered at the press conference earlier that day。 Word for word。 It was like sitting in a cinema； watching the whole performance for the second time。
The PM looked grave； as he had every reason to be； but his job was much easier than Dyne's。 There were no questions to answer； no live audience to vent their wrath on him。
'And the very fact that this disaster could happen；' he concluded； 'has forced the government to introduce an immediate state of Emergency。 All airports； private airfields； and shipping ports are henceforth closed down； and this action will be under the direct supervision of the armed forces。 I must stress that these bans may be lifted within a matter of days。 All steps taken are of a temporary nature； with the interests of the public foremost。'
The sweetener； Coyle smiled grimly to himself。 The treat after the medicine。 The nation was being treated like a small child； but this was how it suited the government。 Stop panic and rioting at all costs。 Democracy itself was at stake。
Coyle wondered how many planes had already left the country carrying people who had received a tip…off from friends in high places。 Their efforts to find sanctuary would only be temporary。 A disaster of this nature would have worldwide repercussions。 There would be no escape for any of them。
He switched off the television。 All over the country now； people would be sitting in their homes staring in shock at a square of nothingness； a crystal…ball forecasting their futures。 Oblivion。
He resumed his seat and lit a cigarette； wondering if the two of them would sit there all night； not speaking； totally divorced from every human relationship they had known。
He glanced sideways at Jane。 Maybe he ought to make some coffee。
'Where's Sarah？'…the thought suddenly came to him。 He remembered his daughter's admission that she had terminated her affair with Houston。 Without him she had no reason to stay out late。 Of course； there were other men 。 。 。
'Upstairs in bed。 She went straight up when she came in from work； or maybe you didn't notice。'
Bitterness。 He did not reply。 Sarah would be upset at the break…up with Houston。 Coyle wondered whether he should go up and check if she was all right。 He decided against it。 She would be in total ignorance of the threat they afi faced。 No point in telling her now…she could use all the sleep she could get。
Finally； he got up and made some coffee； strong and black。 Jane drank hers in silence。
Everywhere； right now； Coyle realised； people would be making coffee。 Beds would be ignored。 A long night lay ahead for the nation； sustained by alcohol； coffee； and tobacco whilst their brains reluctantly accepted the situation。
Saturday morning dawned cold and grey。 The mist was thicker than the Met。 Office had forecast…and slower to clear。 The surrounding mountains were invisible as Kent made his way along the deserted streets towards the Herald offices。 Coyle had given him a key； but he had no idea what he was going to do there。 No point in ringing London again yet。 Perhaps towards midday he would try and get hold of Dyne； attempt to discover how fast the radioactivity level was rising； and then make another report。
The newsagent's stall on the corner of the Square was not open yet。 That angered him。 A world crisis； but one had to wait until normal opening time to read about it。 He had half expected to see crowds on the streets； people loading their precious belongings into their cars in an attempt to put even a couple of hundred miles between themselves and this impending doom。
He was almost at his destination when he heard the rumble of heavy vehicles。 The pavement beneath him vibrated slightly。
The leading vehicle rounded the corner…an armoured truck。 Another。 Three 。 。 。 four 。 。 。 five 。。。 he counted ten in all as they passed him slowly and came to a halt in the Square。 Soldiers began disembarking。
Kent stood in the doorway of the Herald； automatically stuffing tobacco into the bowl of his pipe； his keen eyes missing nothing。 He noted how the heavy vehicles were parked in a line that pletely blocked the road running through the centre of the valley； perfectly positioned from kerb to kerb。
The soldiers moved with quiet efficiency…no bawled orders from a senior NCO。 Each man knew what was expected of him； each carried a slung rifle。 Kent wondered if the bullets were rubber。 He noted； too； the riot shields being unloaded； and the open crate on the tailboa