Lockdown, by Gaye Davis
This story is read by Rachel Ward, a local author of young adult and adult crime novels. Rachel is also co-host of the B&NES Libraries crime book group, The Bath Bloodhounds.
The Story
Mary was old, she knew this because she was born in 1931, because the mirror told her and her bad legs confirmed it. She was an only child of elderly parents, the type of family who kept themselves to themselves, rather too much as she had never met a young man, let alone marry one.
Mary had the same daily routine, she didn’t think she was lonely, as had never known anything different. In 1965 she had bought herself an automatic washing machine, other than this, the house she had been born in never changed, the clock ticked soulfully in the hallway, the beeswax smell of polish the only fragrance.
Something was different, Mary was startled, her ears pricking up trying to establish exactly what. She looked at the clock, it was 8:30 and there was silence, yes that’s what she had heard, silence.
The road she lived on had been a quiet backwater until a school was built on the local field. For ten years it had been the parental drop off and collection point for children, annoying but not enough to cause too many issues, just 20 minutes each morning and afternoon plus lunch time.
Of course, it must be a Saturday, therefore no school. Looking at her diary she noted it was Monday, perhaps the children were on holiday?
The following day, pulling back the curtains, she noted all the neighbours’ cars were in their driveways, now this was unusual. She had observed cars coming and going at all times day and night and it seemed every family had a car each and depending on their children’s ages there could be three or four.
The days passed in confusion for Mary, her usual routine was hindered by others – too many neighbours around during the day, her milk delivery had suddenly stopped, strange people walking past her house at all times of the day, some were running and plenty of bicycles on roads empty of normal traffic.
Mary ate like a bird, her small loaf lasted over a week and often a piece of toast sufficed for a meal. Unfortunately, her pantry was now low on foodstuffs, therefore a quick trip to the local shop became a necessity.
Putting on her Spring coat plus headscarf and carrying her small basket she set off to the little shop on the corner.
Suddenly a young woman gasped “where are you going, why are you out, do you have underlying symptoms?” Mary looked at the woman very confused, ”I’m going to the shop on the corner, I’ve run out of necessities and underlying symptoms of what?”
By this time a small crowd had gathered, Mary felt claustrophobic and started to panic – someone said “she’s perspiring, must have a fever”, then her throat constricted causing a dry cough and her eyes to itch, a voice shouted, “please get indoors, you are obviously infected”.
Before she knew it, she was back in the house, with various people shouting through the letterbox. One asked what she wanted from the shops as would get it for her, one asked if her children could draw her a rainbow to put in her window and another asked if she would be clapping on Thursday.
Mary thought it all a dream and sat down still in her coat and scarf. Eventually a knock on the door plus a voice shouting through the letterbox that her shopping was on the doorstep, sorry there were a few substitutes but hoped it was OK.
By the time she reached the door, the person was gone but yes, there was her full basket. She always had a white farmhouse, however she now had a seeded brown, plain biscuits substituted by chocolate digestives and most worrying of all, shower gel instead of her usual bar of soap. Oh dear, this arrangement just wouldn’t work she thought.
She heard the letterbox move and a piece of paper floated along the hall floor, picking it up she saw lots of colour and yes it was a rainbow with something about the NHS above the rainbow. Vaguely she remembered the young woman saying it should be put up in her window, someone called Daisy had drawn it.
What a day she thought as she taped up the picture, out of the corner of her eye she saw a young girl smiling at her, holding up a piece of paper – I’M DAISY, I DID THE PICTURE – Mary smiled back, mouthing thank you.
Finally flopping in her armchair and realising this toast was far superior to any toast she had ever eaten she mused on her day. One of the deliveries had been a newspaper, not something either her parents or she had ever bothered with.
Looking at the headlines, a realisation of the current situation dawned on her, she wasn’t sure how it would affect her, however the news was not good.
The following days passed by, with notes through the door offering to do shopping, items collected from the pharmacy plus little notes from various children asking how she was and including drawings. Mary taped the pictures to the window and this seemed to please everyone, lots of waving and babies smiling at her as she stood looking out.
The shopping was proving very successful,why had she never thought of honey coated cornflakes, she loved them. Thursday evenings had proved her favourite time, opening her sash windows wide she played her piano and this had prompted an outpouring of love and gratitude, people were clapping her, notes though the door asking if she would teach their children, help with gardening and decorating when all this was over.
Sitting down at the end of her first week of lockdown, she picked up her favourite book, a Tale of Two Cities, yes this really was the best and the worst of times.