London, 2074

Making Climate Change Real - a short story

#Climate #Makeitreal #climatecommunication #climatescience

Today is the 3rd of April 2074.? It’s also the first day of the summer holidays. I stretch and raise the blinds, looking over the roofs of North London and a white morning sky.

School now breaks at the end of March, for summer. Now, that feels strange to me.? I know it’s a good idea to have moved the holiday calendar. July and August are unpleasant, the kids are better off safe in air-conditioned classrooms, rather than confined indoors because of 40 degrees temperature and poor air quality.? Yet I can’t help finding it unsettling.? I don’t mind things changing, I used to work in fashion afterall. It’s the pace, the scope of the changes, the weirdness of this new world…??

I’m Julia - but everyone calls me Jools.? Today is actually a good day, as Gus - he’s my grandson, the sweetest boy - and I are popping down to the seaside for a week.? That will be such a fun little adventure.? It wasn’t easy bagging a room in Lyme Regis, as most people holiday in the UK now. Traveling abroad is… well, complicated. The Med is struggling, Normandy and the Netherlands flooded, Norway fully booked… So Britain is best. Fair bit of competition for hotel space.? Had to call a few people and find a way around the waiting list.?

I pin up my hair, check myself in the mirror. I’ve always loved to travel.? My fav hols used to be Courchevel, many moons ago. Sashaying down the powdery slopes.? Skiing is not a thing anymore - rockfalls and lack of snow have pretty much put a stop to it. First World problem of course. I’m not complaining.

Will has prepared breakfast - porridge for us and some dinosaur cereals for Gus.? My husband looks tired, I suspect he has spent part of the night on the computer.? I look at his still handsome profile, the cheekbones and longish white hair that used to be blond.? His pale eyes crease in a smile.?

- You look nice Jools.

- Only a little summer dress. You’ve seen it before

-The car is fully charged, I have checked the batteries. Do you feel OK about driving?

-Sexist question.

-Have you looked at the latest itinerary? You remember the Embankment is closed?

Obviously I completely forgot about the Embankment.? I sigh and pour some coffee.? The Thames has been in the news for years, but I have stopped listening to Radio 4.? It’s too depressing - who wants to hear politicians yelling at each other first thing in the morning? There was flooding around Stratford and Bermondsey a few years back, spreading temperamentally westwards. I never go to Stratford so I ignored it.? But this is a political hot potato, what with the government having sat on the 100 billion upgrade to the Thames barrier for decades.? And the costs exploding upwards, the works taking years longer than planned -? engineering talk which makes the HS2 train line debates of my youth pale into insignificance.?

Will is not ready to let go.

-Darling, I’ve been telling you about this for weeks. They call it a precautionary measure, because of the latest water surge.

-So the whole Embankment is closed to traffic?

-Yes, and most of the bridges.? Mark my words, they won’t open again.

-You’re so gloomy.? The Thames barrier is going to be finished at some point, surely.

He sighs.?"It won’t be enough. The government is burying its head in the sand.? Their own scientists have recommended a dam, not a flood barrier. But no one can stomach the costs."

The flooding zones cover the bulk of South London. All our friends who lived south of the river moved years ago, when they couldn’t get insurance for their home. Our lovely Islington townhouse is not affected and, selfishly, I am not as passionate about the issue as some.? But my husband has a broader outlook.? That’s why he looks so ground down.? He sighs “You’ll have to take the North Circular, then go around The UN Charter city? to catch up with the M3.”

Gus is excited, running around the flat, lean and graceful as 8 years old can be. “Come here” I say. “Showertime”.? “Yay! “ he replies, taking off his Ninja pajamas and clambering over the bathtub.? “Mum never gives me showers”.? To be fair, the penalties for water overconsumption start at ￡800, and the limits get more drastic every year.? Very unpopular move because, honestly, it’s such a palaver to be rationing liters. They say it’ll all get easier when the water pipeline from Scotland is finished, and I can’t wait.? I block the tub to capture the water for housework.? Gus splashes his feet, I don’t think it has ever crossed his mind that bathtubs were not designed to recycle water, but to lay down in bubble baths with your pink wrinkled toes sticking out.? That’s the problem with being my age, you compare eras.? He’s fine with a rare shower and jumps out as soon as the 60 seconds timer rings.

Will dries him and gives him a hug.? “Take care. Send pictures!”

15 minutes later, I swerve in the supermarket’s car park.? “Let’s buy some food for the trip, what do you think?” Gus runs towards the confectionery when my I-lobe vibrates.? I click the earpiece to hear my daughter’s voice.? Hannah is a wonderful girl, an engineer as well as a super competent mother.? Those difficult teenage years are now but a distant memory, yet I can still hear in her voice that slightly exasperated tone. “Mum.? All OK?

-Wonderful darling, Gus slept til late, we’re grabbing some food for the journey.

-Right. Not too much sugar for him OK?

-Don’t worry.” I survey the aisles warily. “ Gawd these places are so dreary.? It’s all processed food, nothing fresh.?

-Mum, you ALWAYS say that.

-What do you want me to say?? No tomatoes, no oranges, no strawberries…

-Well, Gus doesn’t need strawberries for the journey.

Just on cue, Gus shows me a colorful sandwich pack.? “Can I have that?”? I squint at the label. “Let me see.? Soya, Kelp, Proyum… What’s Proyum?”

Hannah sighs in my ear:

-It’s an insect-based paste.? Protein.? Very nutritious.

-Lovely.” I can hear the sarcasm in my voice. “ Bugs and seaweed it is then.? Great colors!

-Have you given Gus his vitamins?

Children are given free vitamins to compensate for the exorbitant price of fruit and veg. Gus knows how to take the pills without being told. I reassure her and hang up.?

Hannah is of the “looking forward - not looking back” school of thought.? Her generation has its fingers firmly in its ears, refusing to dwell on what ‘s been lost. But food matters to me, and the range of tastes has narrowed dramatically. ? I remember the last time I tasted chunky fresh cod, and that was 12 years ago.? There’s no olive oil, no rice due to the salt floods in Asia, wheat is exorbitant and meat replaced by processed stuff of uncertain origin. Oh, there’s food alright, but very little fun, even though the packs get brighter and brighter.

The old electric Volvo handles well. It’s not the snazzy convertible of my youth, but I still enjoy driving . We swerve around the dense skyline of the UN Charter city, Gutteres IV, which already hosts 1 million refugees. Humanity is moving North, and they need to be accommodated. ? The motorway loops around the concrete towers racing towards a low sky.? The urban landscape gradually recedes, and we turn onto smaller roads around Andover. The day clears, a few clouds stretch languidly towards the horizon, light as spun sugar. We’re listening to Narnia on audio? - Gus staring ahead, opened-mouth. ? I know he’s going to need a break, so I take an exit somewhere around the Salisbury plains.? Just in time as he’s getting agitated.

-Can we stop soon???

-I’m looking for a picnic spot sweetie

-I don’t want a picnic, I’d like some fries.??

The landscape around us is deserted.? I drive a few miles following the map on the screen, towards Tisbury.? We cross derelict farms.. No cultivated fields, but a vast expanse of dusty shrubs and giant solar plants going for miles after miles, with these central poles shining intensely bright. We cross a village but houses seem shut down. I'm expecting tumbleweeds to start rolling past us.??

-I’m sorry Gus, I should have stopped at the last service station.? That’s daft of me, we’re not going to find a pub here.

-Why is that Jools???

-Well because not many people live here. They’ve moved to the towns.

-But why?

-Shall we put the tape back on?

That child and his questions. I’m not going to talk about the last harvest, or the end of arable land in Southern England. ? In Narnia, the snow swirls and sparkles, and it’s always winter.

I park in the shadow of a wall, just outside a silent village.? Rush of warm air around us. ? I take sandwiches and juices out of the bag, Gus disappears for a quick pee around the corner.? In front of us is a landscape of yellow, swaying grass, divided by hedges. At least, I call them hedges.? Gus would not know the term.? In fact, he’ll never know the gentleness of the English countryside, the dappled shade, the bluebells, the mossy stones, the bugs scurrying in the tangled roots.? Now the hedges are brown, shrunk, like ungainly scar tissue. Most trees have not survived the new weather. Foreign species are being planted, more suitable for the temperature, but they take years to grow. All I can see for now are some skinny pines that look like toilet brushes.

I look up when I hear a bark.? A small dog trots towards us, followed by a man holding a drone under his arm.? He has white dreadlocks and some sort of high vis jacket.? His voice is cheerful "Hi there!? Watch out for your picnic, she’s quite keen on sausages!"

“Can I throw her a stick?” asks Gus

-? Sure.? She’s called Varoo. Don’t you want to see the drone?

- We have them at school” says Gus, who’s much keener on the pet.? “For Fire safety”.

- That’s right” The man laughs.? “That’s a safety drone to check the solar panels over there. ”

I ask

-Do you work on the solar plants?

-We subcontract.? Drone maintenance.??

-You’re the first person I see since we left the motorway.

-Yes, well.? Doesn’t need many people to operate the plants. And the farmers have left a while back.

-Doesn’t anyone live there now?

-Don’t think so. There was a farm turned into a hotel, but business disappeared when they lost the water for the swimming pools.? Never really saw the village open. It’s been - what - 8, 9 years since I arrived… I came with SIRP.

SIRP, the Small Island Resettlement Program. ? I don’t dare to ask where he is from. Mauritius?? The Maldives? Dominica? I never know what the etiquette is, tiptoeing around the delicate topic of homes abandoned to the waves. ? He looks relaxed.

-I used to work in Somerset.? Just like here, the farmers have left.? Some of them have gone North, to Scotland.

Gus is trying to pry a branch from the little dog’s jaws, but he must have been listening because he pipes in “I’ve seen the ads on the internet!”? And he sings the annoying little tune “Come up to Scotland, If you care for the Land, If you’re a farmer, welcome to the Border…”

-Yes well, they have the water, don’t they? Now the Scots have plowed coast to coast,? it’s just one big farm up there.

-I was thinking of going to the Highlands for our summer holidays. Our family used to go to the isle of Skye, it’s beautiful up there.? But now…

The international court case about Scotland’s water supply’s obligations to England has made the relationship between the 2 countries intensely toxic.? It’s not a military water war, like the others on the front pages, but hostility has reached such a peak that the advice is to stay away.

The man seems to read my thoughts

-Hard to relax up there. They’re not too keen on tourists from the South I hear. Personally, I don’t think we’re ever going to see that pipeline, they’ll keep all the water, for sure.?

-Oh I don’t think that’s possible, do you?? People are very cross about water rationing.? They’re already demonstrating, there’d be a revolution if it carried on much longer…

“I’ve had a shower this morning!” says Gus.

The man laughs.

-Well, who’s a lucky boy?? And where are you going now?

I start gathering our stuff.?

-Lyme Regis.??

-Ah, yes, I heard of the place. It’s been on the news,hasn’it?

I frown, to stop him from carrying on. A spectacular flood carried off part of the village a few years ago and Gus does not need to hear about the details.

-Yes, that was a long time ago.? It’s all back to normal now.

The man smiles.?

-You’ll have a great time. Fossil hunting!??

? “Back to the car” I say brightly.? “Say goodbye to Varoo now.”

We arrive mid afternoon.? The B&B sits on the hills above Lyme Regis, an XVIIIth century house with pale yellow walls and windows overlooking the sea.? Seashells stuck in a mosaic on the garden wall.? Faded chintz curtains inside, smells of pot-pourri and toasted bread. Donna, the host, takes us to our room on the top floor.?"You’ve been right lucky with this one.? You've got the best view, and the AC is brand new."

Gus has his nose stuck to the window. “Look Gran!? There are army boats out there! Can you see them lining up?”

“It’s the Ring of Steel” says Donna, briskly plumping the cushions and checking we have enough sugar sachets by the kettle.? “You’ve surely heard about it?”

- At school”, says Gus.? Are there binoculars to see better?

- You’ll see them from the new seaside walk, my sweet.? They’re patrol boats, most of them, but we also have a type 55 destroyer, HM Masterful.??

Of course it's normal for Gus to be interested in military stuff, though I’m not entirely comfortable with it.? In my youth, us liberal lefties defended the rights of climate migrants. Will and I took in some refugees.? I remember Vikram, a dentist from Hyderabad, where tens of thousands died from the humid heat, and the lovely Anat, an arts student from Cairo. But we stopped when Hannah arrived and the guest room became the baby’s nursery.? The number of refugees aiming for UK shores kept rising, soon it became a tidal wave, millions of people.? We had our first UN refugee city, then a second one, bigger, near Stoke on Trent.? There came a moment when a? strange consensus descended on England. The crisis felt endless, it felt like we couldn’t cope. The government closed the borders, canceled plans for further refugee cities. There’s plenty of room in Canada and Siberia, said the right wing media.? And the Ring of Steel was launched, an unprecedented military mobilization, to patrol our coasts day and night, 24/7.? A massive drain on the national budget, which nobody questions.? It’s like being at war, really, except no one talks about it.?

Donna is showing Gus some children books in the corridor, when my phone buzzes again.? It’s Hannah, checking we’ve arrived safely.

-All lovely here darling, do you want me to turn on the video?

-Not now Mum, I’m walking to a meeting.? I just wanted to say I called Dad. I do wish you’d taken him with you.

-He had work to do Hannah, I’m sure he told you so.

-You know what that work is!? That documentary on New Orleans, collecting people’s memories - it’s just morbid, is what it is.

-Well he was a jazz producer after all. That place meant a lot to him.?

-He’s obsessed with that project. You should not encourage it. Really, cities have disappeared in their thousands throughout history, people move on.

-I’m sure Babylonians felt perfectly rotten when that happened to them” I say, a little more sharply than I intended.?

Hannah pauses for a while.??

-I’m sorry Mum, I'm anxious about him being left alone.?

I know what's on her mind.? Our generation suffers from a high depression rate and has a tendency to give up.? They call it a suicide epidemic, but the words feel harsh - to my mind it’s just older people making the choice, quite calmly, to stop facing the future.? The NHS issues antidepressants to anyone over 50, but that hasn’t moved the curve. I mean, I’m fine - I focus on yoga, G&T and? the fun side of life, though keeping things light can be a demanding discipline. But Will, yes, he sees it all. And probably spends too much time staring at the fast flowing mud where his favorite city used to stand. Hannah wishes that we oldies had a bit more spirit, like the generations that lived through the World Wars.? But wars stop eventually, whilst we feel this vertiginous, inexorable tipping into a different world. A planet where so much of what we loved has disappeared forever, with no going back to normal, just an accelerating fall into an alien universe.?

Gus is coming back with some Rupert Bear antique books. Donna seems to enjoy his company "Don’t you two want to see the main attraction, then?? There’s still plenty of time before dusk!"

Gus' face literally shines with excitement.? I smile “Sure, is it far?

- Around the corner, I’ll take you there myself.??

We leave the house, walk along a muddy path that becomes a set of steps going down steeply.? Donna is chatting non-stop. “SuperStorm Magnus, we called it. 3 years ago now.? It was indescribable.? Have you heard of rain bombs? The rain was so heavy you couldn’t take a breath outside. The water was pummeling so hard we couldn’t hear ourselves talk. For days!? Then we were evacuated and the flooding took the road and part of the lower village.? The seaside now looks nothing like it used to. I told my husband: we’re right lucky our place is at the top of the hill!? And when we thought all was normal again, when the sky turned blue at last, then it happened…

We cross over a kissing gate, the field leaves way to an outcrop of black mud.? There are many people here now, following the path hugging the bottom of the headland. ? I hold Gus‘s little hand tightly, the ground is slippery. Donna continues, she’s clearly told that story many times.? ”Yes, we all thought it was over.? Then the cliff just collapsed. It’s limestone but also shales of that dark jurassic stuff, not quite mud and not quite rock.? It? just went, in the night, nearly 1000 feet. We felt the ground tremble, like an earthquake yet all completely silent”.

We turn a corner and it’s all here.? The chaotic landslide tumbling into the sea.? A small crowd staring.? Scaffolding and people in hard hats working with brushes and delicate picks.? The tall, black, fresh new cliff.? And the fossilized skeleton towering over us..

“It’s a pliosaur” breathes Gus, who’s read everything about the beast.? “Meat eating.? Enormous.? Makes T Rex look teeny weeny!”

The fossil has been gently brushed and partly cleared of the shale that surrounds it. Bones are helter skelter but, here, recognizable, is a fragment of the giant skull.??

I stare.? My chest tightens,

The jaws are opened in the scream of a species that disappeared 150 million years ago.

Gus laughs with excitement, his eyes sparkling in the afternoon’s sunshine? “Isn’t it wonderful Gran?” he says - and drops my hand to do a perfect cartwheel.