Love in Lockdown

by Chloe James

  ‘So what made you send it now?’

  ‘Elsie died sooner than we all expected. So I kept the letter as she asked – Bertie was in no state to read it then. I bided my time and then during this lockdown, knowing how lonely Bertie has been, I realised it was now he needed to hear about Flora. I had no idea you had found the other letter.’

  ‘No, that was just sheer chance. But you were so right to send the letter to Flora now and she must have answered immediately.’

  ‘It’s almost as though it’s meant to be,’ Mavis says. ‘He won’t be alone any more – now he has a dog and a stepdaughter, he’s got everything he needs.’

  ‘Should I wait until he comes back out?’ I ask. ‘He’s bound to be upset.’

  ‘Don’t worry, love; you need to get back. I’ll wait and talk to him. I have all the time in the world.’

  ‘Thanks, Mavis. Maybe you’re right.’ I wish I could give her a hug. She’s such a dear. ‘This whole situation has really surprised me you know, how everyone in this little community has looked out for each other. You’re all like family now.’

  She laughs. ‘Well there’ll be good things and bad things, ups and downs – there always are in life you know. But as long as we’ve got each other, somehow we’ll all find our way through. Wartime spirit you know.’

  I ponder her words as I wander back to the flats. Why does she think I need to get back? Although Jack did say 9 p.m. It’s even quieter than usual. I think I see a glimmer of one of the children opposite on the balconies, but when I look again she’s vanished. Perhaps everyone’s busy getting dinner, although it’s a beautifully still evening.

  Back at the flat, Erica and I eat watching something rubbish; tonight we’re on fish and chips from the freezer. ‘When are we going to go back to more takeaways?’ asks Erica, peering disparagingly at an oven chip perched precariously on the end of her fork.

  ‘Perhaps when lockdown’s over. Anyway, we had takeaway chips last week.’

  ‘They taste so much better.’

  ‘I guess. It’s always such a hassle though, putting it in the oven when you’ve got it home. You might as well cook it yourself rather than queue at the shop.’

  ‘That’s only because you’re stressed out it might have the virus on it. Most people would just eat it straightaway.’

  ‘Well you can’t be too careful, not for Jack especially. Anyway, there’s talk the lockdown’s going to ease next month.’

  ‘I know, but I don’t think it will be back to normal.’ She finishes her mouthful and replaces her knife and fork in the middle of the plate with a clatter. ‘I’m off then. I’ll be back in the morning.’

  ‘Okay.’ I smile at her. ‘Are you sure you’ve had enough? And have you got your scrubs?’

  ‘Yes, Mum!’ Erica jests. ‘Have a nice evening.’ She stacks her plate in the sink, which makes a change, and there’s a certain something in her manner as she’s going out the door.

  I bumble about clearing the table and getting the washing up out of the way.

  My phone announces the arrival of a text from Jack. No going outside until 9 p.m. x

  That’s very mysterious and is making me want to go outside immediately x

  Trust you (he’s put a laughing face). No peeking, speak in a while x

  I can’t imagine what he’s up to, but when nine o’clock comes, with some trepidation, I pull back the blinds and open the balcony doors. Without my realising the sun has gone down and it was actually slightly overcast today for the first time in a while. As the end of the restrictions hove into view it’s almost as though the weather has dictated, Okay, chaps, back to normal, cloud and rain are fine – we’ve got the people through.

  Darkness has mostly fallen in the courtyard but as I step out onto the balcony, a sea of lights twinkle at me. The effect is incredible; tiny candles glowing from each and every corner of the outside space. I am surrounded by tiny dots of light bobbing hearteningly in the darkness. This incredible light effect is mirrored in the sky, as up and beyond and above the rooftops, the moon is bright and full, paired with the twinkling wishing star next to it.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ I say, because it really is.

  ‘I hoped it would be,’ Jack answers from above.

  ‘How did you manage it? Are you a magician?’

  ‘No.’ He laughs. ‘But I had a little help from some friends.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.’ My voice breaks as tears start to roll down my cheeks.

  ‘Hey,’ he says softly, ‘are you okay?’

  ‘Yes.’ I laugh and sniff. ‘This crying on the balcony seems to have become our thing.’

  ‘In a good way this time I hope, though?’ he asks.

  ‘Definitely – no one has ever done anything like this for me, Jack. It’s magical.’

  ‘I just wanted to, well, I wanted to show you how much—’ He breaks off. I can hear the emotion in his voice.

  I wait quietly.

  ‘How much …’ His voice is stronger now. ‘I wanted to tell you how much you mean to me and what a wonderful person you are. Not just because I’m grateful for what you’ve done to get me through this lockdown, which I am, but quite simply you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever nearly-but-not-actually-met … and I love you, Soph. I know you probably don’t feel that way about me, because you’ve got an ex who you’re still in love with and you probably want to marry and in any case we haven’t even met, so you might hate me or find me annoying or …’

  ‘Jack!’ I interrupt.

  ‘Sorry, I’m blithering aren’t I?’

  ‘No,’ I say, ‘I just wanted to put you out of your misery. I wanted to say me too. I mean; I love you too.’ I stop for a moment, memories of our lockdown together rushing over me. ‘You’re thanking me for looking after you, but you’re the one who rescued me. I was a complete mess, feeling lonely in the crowd even before that and now, thanks to you, I’ve realised it’s okay. I can accept what’s going on. I can just be me. You’ve helped with so many things and I don’t need to know what you look like; I feel as if I’ve known you forever so it just doesn’t matter.’ I stop for a moment, as I can’t believe all this has come out, but it’s true. ‘And in any case, I can’t imagine life without you now.’

  ‘Me neither,’ Jack says, sounding ecstatic.

  ‘Looks like we’re stuck with each other then.’ I laugh.

  ‘Definitely,’ he agrees. ‘Fancy a glass of bubbly to celebrate?’ Without waiting for my answer, he lowers down a glass of icy champagne and next to it are two heart chocolates. ‘Incoming,’ he says.

  ‘One’s for you.’ I place one of the chocolates back in for him and he pulls it up. ‘Not that you were sure of yourself or anything,’ I quip.

  ‘Not at all.’ He laughs. ‘But I thought if you said no I could just drink all the champagne myself.’

  ‘Rude!’ I chuckle.

  ‘Cheers! Here’s to us!’ he says.

  ‘To us.’ I take a sip of the cold sparkling liquid.

  ‘Thank goodness for that,’ says Greg and as a round of applause breaks out around the balconies. Greg starts up the sultry tones of ‘Invisible Love’ on the saxophone and I look out and see all the balconies have people and families gathered on them, raising their glasses to us, the little ones with squash in their cups I’m guessing. They’re smiling, clapping, happy in spite of everything we’ve all been going through.

  I look down into the courtyard where Bertie is perched on the corner of the raised beds, Tilly sitting on his lap and Mavis a short distance away. ‘Cheers!’ he says raising his glass. ‘To Sophia and Jack, the perfect couple!’

  I can see Erica down below in the courtyard holding up a lantern. She smiles and waves and gives a big thumbs up.

  ‘Hear hear!’ says Mavis, raising her glass too. Even Marge is smiling and clapping from the corner of the courtyard and everywhere I look, I am surrounded by love and community and most importantly of all Jack, who I would
never have nearly met if it hadn’t been for lockdown.

  Epilogue

  The courtyard is ostensibly unchanged: the flowers continue to bloom vibrantly, the earth is a little dry as it has been ridiculously hot and rain-free for a British summer. The balconies are the same. The pots of vegetables now sport tiny tomatoes and a couple of cucumbers are poking their heads from the yellow flowers. Yet there is a difference; something has changed. It is no longer quiet and still. Outside in suburbia, beyond the rooftops, beyond the flats, signs of the usual hustle and bustle, the background noise has begun its familiar hum. It’s not quite back to normal – it’s quieter than before – but tentatively, steadily, life is returning to the streets.

  The builders were the first back, the noise of construction, concrete lorries, the cranes and diggers manoeuvring in the distance. Then bit by bit, more cars on the road, only a few at first, but gradually there is the steady stream and rumble, the noises that no one noticed before this lockdown, but after the silence we welcome back like old friends. The familiar – it’s what everyone knows and there is a comfort in it.

  The chalky white marks of distant jets once again adorn the sky, which today is a gorgeous intense blue. Some people are still anxious, venturing forth from their homes like cautious deer, vigilant, armed with masks and antibac, happy to return inside as soon as they can. Others are determined to get out and enjoy it whilst they can flock to tourist spots, living out every moment of life with a desperation born from the frustrations of temporary captivity.

  This is the new normal. Whether it is better than the old one still waits to be seen, like everything in life, a story waiting to be told – it’s in the hands of people to decide how it unfolds.

  In the courtyard, there are signs of life. A young man, dressed in shorts and a blue T-shirt makes his way over to the raised flowerbeds. His brown hair has begun to grow back from its shortened crop. Even to the casual observer, he appears a little anxious but this is blended with an alertness, an appreciation for his surroundings, the flowers, a passing butterfly all attract his notice. Even the very air he breathes and the feeling of the sun on his back. He perches and waits for someone, his eyes closed in the sunlight, recharging his batteries after weeks of being inside.

  Sensing he’s not alone, he slowly opens his eyes. It’s her, of course it is, he can sense her when she’s near.

  ‘Sophia?’ It comes out as a question, but it isn’t one.

  ‘Jack.’ She smiles and her whole face lights up, especially her eyes, as he knew they would because although he felt he knew her anyway, he had met her before, all those months ago, and not even realised.

  They stand for a moment, holding hands, just looking into each other’s eyes, simply because they can.

  ‘Jack, I …’

  ‘Soph …’

  They both laugh and stop, awkward as it always is when you first meet someone who you’ve only nearly met before. In their own time, they make their way side by side to Sophia’s car, because now they’ve found each other, they don’t want to let go. They talk and laugh as though they’ve known each other a long time, which in a way they have. Once they arrive at Sparrow Hill, Sophia parks and having unloaded the basket – which Jack has already filled with a bottle, glasses and sushi; requested by Sophia because it was the one thing she couldn’t get during lockdown – they walk hand in hand to the brow of the hill.

  Jack makes himself busy with the picnic rug, flattening out the wrinkles and placing cushions in all the right places.

  ‘Have you done this before?’ she asks, her laughing eyes crinkling at the corners.

  ‘Not recently,’ he quips. ‘What’s it to be? I thought you might like the lavender mocktail?’

  She laughs. ‘Maybe save it for my gran.’

  ‘I thought you might say that,’ he replies, ‘so I brought some Pimm’s. Just a bit, as you’re driving.’

  ‘Sounds perfect.’ She smiles. They lie propped on the cushions, looking out over the view, Sophia cradled in against Jack’s outstretched but protective body, both drinking in the vista of hills and patchwork fields, horses grazing the grass and birds flitting in the trees.

  ‘When did you know?’ she asks, munching on some smoked salmon. ‘These are really good you know. Did you make them?’

  ‘I could say yes, but I won’t because you won’t believe me,’ he tells her.

  ‘Well, they taste lovely either way. You haven’t answered the question.’

  ‘Just now,’ he says.

  ‘So you didn’t realise before?’ she asks.

  ‘No – did you?’

  ‘No, I had no idea,’ she replies.

  ‘Me neither, but then when I saw you, it all made sense – that rainy day in the street. You were lost in that huge mac but your eyes, they attracted me from the start.’

  ‘With their lustrous beauty?’

  ‘No, although they are very pretty!’

  ‘Thanks.’ She laughs.

  ‘It was the way they crinkle at the corners,’ he tells her. ‘They’re smiley eyes.’ He stops and looks inquiringly at her, making her blush.

  ‘Where were you going? You were in a real rush.’

  ‘To meet Sam at the hospital for my check-up.’

  ‘No wonder you were in a hurry,’ she says.

  ‘I’m always late,’ he admits.

  ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me? Poor Sam.’

  ‘Poor Jess – I knocked all her magazines onto the wet pavement.’

  Sophia giggles. ‘That was unfortunate.’

  ‘Do you think she’ll always hate me?’

  ‘No.’ She looks at him for a moment speculatively. ‘I think she’ll really like you. What about Sam?’

  ‘He already loves you. He can’t believe anyone could get me to sort my life out. He’ll be forever in your debt.’

  ‘You were already sorting yourself out,’ she says, shaking her head. ‘It was nothing to do with me. Maybe it was just having some time to think about things. Perhaps this lockdown has given us all a chance to think about stuff and what really matters. I was telling my school kids that.’

  ‘How are they?’

  ‘Good, even Alfie and Zane are enjoying having the whole class back together now.’

  ‘I bet – more kids to play with.’

  ‘True, although I’ll always remember the times we had as a small group. It gave me a great chance to get to know them better and for them to grow in confidence.’

  ‘It’s weird but this lockdown has had a few upsides.’

  ‘Like me?’ she asks with a cheeky smile.

  ‘Definitely you,’ he replies.

  Sophia’s phone beeps. It’s from Bertie. Sophia reads the message aloud. Flora’s flight gets in tomorrow at 4 p.m. I’d be really honoured if you and Jack would come for tea to meet her. Mavis is coming too. Tilly has a new red bandana especially for the occasion.

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ says Jack, lazily picking at long stalks of grass and tickling Sophia’s arm with them. ‘Shall we go?’

  ‘You bet,’ says Sophia. ‘It’s funny, you know, but I can’t imagine Bertie without Tilly now.’

  ‘No, neither can I. She’s transformed his life. As well as Mavis and now Flora.’

  ‘He says they’ve Zoomed each other several times and he can’t remember the last time he laughed so much.’

  ‘It’s like it’s meant to be. Speaking of dogs helping people, Greg says there’s a local charity who work with dogs for the disabled. They’re fundraising to train a therapy dog to work at the autism college.’

  ‘That would be amazing,’ says Sophia enthusiastically. ‘I can’t imagine anything helping the kids more. We’ll have to see what we can do to organise some fundraising events.’

  ‘Knowing you, you’ll have it all sorted by this evening.’

  ‘I’m good, but not that good.’ She laughs, throwing bits of grass down his neck.

  ‘Yuk, I’m going to be getting that out for days.’ He throw
s a load back at her and long seeded strands land in her wavy hair.

  The phone pings again. It’s from Jess. Hey, I’ve arranged a post-wedding organisational meeting for next week. Bring Jack; I’d love to meet him before the big day.

  ‘Are you up for a pre-wedding date next week?’ Sophia asks.

  ‘Ours?’ he looks at her speculatively.

  ‘No, steady on a bit! I mean Jess’s. Will you be my official date this time?’

  ‘You bet,’ he says, ‘on both counts.’

  ‘I think I love you,’ she says lightly touching his slightly stubbly cheek.

  ‘I know I love you, and believe me lockdown gives a guy time to think about these things,’ he says, gazing at her.

  She laughs and instinctively they move closer to each other, their lips meeting, their whole beings connecting, as they hold each other, revelling in the joy of their basic human need for contact and warmth of touch. A luxury, which before they always took for granted, yet lockdown changed all that. In lockdown nothing was definite, nothing was certain except the strength and resilience of love and community.

  But the reality is that when everything else stops, love is all that’s left. It counts for everything as it always does, in the key workers, the nurses, the hospital staff, the shop assistants, the bus and delivery drivers – everyone braving a common enemy for the sake of others.

  As they lie entwined in a tangle of limbs and love, it all feels so new, yet so familiar as the sparrows chatter overhead, a dragonfly rests momentarily on a nearby leaf and the sun beats down warm on their backs.

  But Jack and Sophia are oblivious; they’re immersed in each other. In the distance, but nevertheless all around them, the world inevitably begins to go about its business, slowly but surely discovering its new normal as they discover theirs.

  Acknowledgements

  I am so incredibly grateful to have been able to write this story about rather extraordinary happenings set within unprecedented times. In many ways, writing this book has carried me through what has been a difficult period and I hope reading it might help others who may have also been struggling, to try to make sense of this year’s events in some small way.