Free Omega by Stewart Farrar Page A

Savernake Forest, Avebury, Frome and the Mendips. Her westward move was not entirely planless. For one thing, she felt that before too long she should be basing herself somewhere in the Pennine area, because if petrol suddenly became unobtainable, the nearer she was to the centre of the island the more scope would her thousand-kilometre reserve give her; the wider the geographical choice one had, once the crisis took shape, the better. So she wanted to visit some of her favourite southern places before she settled down.
    But a particular reason was that she wanted to go and see her only living relative, a young cousin who was a nurse in a hospital a few miles inland from Weston-super-Mare. Eileen was a sensible girl and Miss Smith felt that she, if no one else, should know what her eccentric middle-aged relative was up to.
    It would be pleasant, Miss Smith thought as she came into Compton Martin, to go through Cheddar Gorge instead of taking the direct road. On this impulse, she swung south-west to cross the spine of the Mendips by the B 3371. It was a hot morning and Miss Smith sang to herself as the van climbed. She had happy memories of the Gorge and she wondered why she hadn't thought of this detour in the first place.
    She might even put off vi siting Eileen till tomorrow and spend the night near Cheddar. Yes , why not? She hadn't been down the Caves for years
    She reached the junction with the B 3135 and saw the road block. It was manned by half a dozen soldiers and a sergeant was signalling to her to stop.
    Miss Smith pulled-up, puzzled.
    The sergeant asked politely: 'Where are you heading, ma'am?'
    'Down the Gorge to Cheddar.'
    'I'm sorry, ma'am - the Gorge is closed. You'll have to turn here and circle round through Draycott.' 'Oh, what a pity. Why?'
    'A rock fall, after the tremors. It'll take some time to clear.'
    'Well, I hope it's not near the Caves. You can reach them from the Cheddar end, I hope?'
    'I'm afraid you can't, ma'am. The Caves are closed to the public. Routine precaution.'
    The phrase 'routine precaution' aroused Miss Smith's suspicion at once. That old clichd. . . . She said with deliberate innocence: 'Someone might have put up a warning notice at the crossroads back there, to save people wasting time.'
    'I'll suggest it to my officer, ma'am,' the sergeant replied. Somehow Miss Smith felt that that was a cliche, too. She did not know why, but she sensed that the Gorge was being kept closed with the minimum of publicity. . . . No, I'm being a suspicious old woman.
    She smiled at the sergeant, and said, 'I think I'll turn back, then, and go on to Weston. No point in going to Cheddar if I can't see the Caves.'
    The sergeant nodded and stepped aside. Miss Smith reversed into the fork, and swung round the way she had come, giving the sergeant a friendly wave as she left. He saluted her expressionlessly.
    Am I being a suspicious old woman? she asked herself as she drove downhill again. Soldiers don't man road blocks. Police do. . . . Though if there's been tremor damage round here (had the Mendips been mentioned? - she couldn't remember) perhaps the police are overworked and the Army's been giving a hand. Forget it. Enjoy the day.
    But the question-mark stayed in the back of her mind all the way to Eileen's hospital.
    She left the van in the car park and walked over to the main entrance. A red-haired young nurse grinned at her cheerfully from the admissions counter; Miss Smith had been going to enquire at the porter's lodge, but it was empty, so she crossed over to the nurse.
    'Good morning. I wonder if I could see Nurse Eileen Roberts?'
    'Eileen? Ooh, dear, you're out of luck. She's one of the ones who' ve been whipped off to the Banwe ll Emergency Unit.'
    'Oh, that's a pity,' Miss Smith said for the second time this morning.
    'Right nuisance to us, too, love. Five they've taken, and a doctor, and we're short-staffed already. . . .'
    'Nurse!' The sister had emerged suddenly from the door behind the