Our lovely little prison

Have you been bingeing on piles of fiction or telly through this lockdown? So have we. Don't feel guilty - it's not like it's chocolate (oh, it was, was it?). Anyway, here's the first story in a tri-partite binge for our little blog: a mini series by Maggie Redding which wryly examines the effects of the pandemic on the population of a retirement home . 

Don't forget to come back next week for the second instalment: 'Room for Rob'.

FARADISE LOST IN LOCKDOWN - Part 1

by

Maggie Redding

‘Perish the thought!’  Tom Daly spoke with anger.

‘What’s the matter?’ his wife, Mimi, asked.

‘This!’  He was in the small hall of their retirement flat at Faradise Park.  A sheet of paper he had just tugged from the jaws of the letterbox was being waved to and fro.  ‘Remember when Hester referred to Faradise Park as our, ‘Lovely little Paradise?’

‘Vividly!  It was when the bonfire got out of control, wasn’t it?’

‘It won’t be our lovely little Paradise much longer.’

‘You mean there is going to be more building?’

‘No.  I mean this!’  He marched down the hall to the kitchen.  Mimi was making a pot of coffee.  ‘This- this – Corona Virus.  This notice.  We are going to have to go into  Lockdown from next Monday week.’

‘No one has got it here.’

‘That’s not the point.  Read it.  I can’t read it to you I’m too upset.’

He thrust the notice at her and strode away into the sitting room to throw himself onto the large, overstuffed sofa, which sighed under the impact.  A silence settled over the flat.  Mimi came into the sitting-room with two mugs of coffee.  

‘Come on, Tom.  Sit up.  It’s not as bad as you think.  No one’s ill.’

‘Thousands are,’  Tom argued.  ‘That’s the trouble.  A lot of us here at Faradise Park, might catch it.  In a place like this, it would go round like wildfire.  We are all doomed.’

Mimi let out a great guffaw.  Tom sat up to take his coffee.  She plomped down beside him.  ‘Stop panicking.  You’ve been watching Dad’s Army too much.  If we do what it says on the notice, we’ll be ok.’

‘Oh yeah!  Stay indoors, don’t go anywhere, don’t see anyone.’

  ‘It won’t be for long.’  

‘It’ll be for the whole of Spring, you’ll see.’  He put down his mug of coffee, leaped up and rushed over to the window.  The park, fresh and green, lay spread out before him.  Trees were coming into fresh, green leaf.  Daffodils lined the drive and beneath the boundary hedge, away to the entrance.  Blossom frothed in the hedgerow.  Birds chattered, flitted and swooped past the window.  In the Memorial Garden immediately below Tom and Mimi’s flat, spring bulbs bloomed, crocus, more daffodils, snowdrops.  

‘I don’t envy Lena if she has to manage us lot for the duration of this – virus,’ Mimi said.  

‘There are twice as many of us now.  Forty, if not more.’

‘But Izzie is assisting her.  Look Tom, relax, will you?  Do you remember the fuss and shock-horror from you when all the building was announced, and the Travellers' site was planned?  It turned out not to be so bad, didn’t it?’

Tom watched her face, wanting to argue, to maintain his point of view, but this was his beloved Mimi.  He hadn’t the heart to carry on with his objections.  They had been married for over a year.  Their first meeting occurred when they had both arrived at Faradise Park to take up residence in neighbouring flats.  Mimi, tall, black and beautiful had been slightly intimidating to the much shorter, less charismatic Tom.

Arguing was useless anyway.  He was about to say something to restore peace and harmony when a great din could be heard outside, in the corridor.  

‘No visitors, can you imagine?’  An irate Hester French from Flat Two, next-door-but-one, had realised some of the implications of the notice that had come through her letterbox.

‘Sounds as though Hester is none too happy,’ Tom observed.  ‘I’m glad I’m not the only one.’

A hostile ringing of the doorbell caused Tom and Mimi to exchange glances that were self-mocking but at the same time, relieved.

Tom hurried to the front door.  Hester stood there.  To Tom, her fury was so obvious that he was convinced for a moment that her short, grey hair was standing on end.

‘What on earth does Lena think she’s doing?’ demanded Hester, waving the notice and stepping into Flat Four before she’s even been invited.  She needed gently to push Tom aside.  The quieter Mel, Hester’s other half, followed her.  She smiled.  The four friends, Tom, Mimi, Hester and Mel had known each other since they had first arrived at Faradise Park. 

‘Our lovely little Paradise is going to become our lovely little prison,’ fumed Hester.

* * *

All those who lived at Faradise Park were up in arms, at the prospect of Lockdown, even the residents of the new block, referred to by Hester as Les Invalides, a droll reference by Francophile Hester to the famous Paris hospital.  These were the twenty new flats where people with ‘extra care’ needs lived independently, but with support for some of the health problems that arose in ageing.

‘What we need,’ Hester said, ‘is a council of war.’  

‘Council of war?’  Mimi said.  ‘There’s no use protesting.  If you watch the news on telly, you’ll realise it will happen everywhere.’  Mimi was wary of Hester in energetic mood.  Hester used to be depressed, but since she had been in touch with her daughter she had substituted depression for energy.  

‘I know that,’ Hester said.  ‘What I meant is we should plan, you know, make preparations.  If we’re only allowed out once day, that’s not a lot of shopping at the Co-op in the village.’

‘You’re right,’ Mel said. ‘Stock up before the 23rd of March’

‘Then all our outings won’t be just out of necessity.  We can go for a walk round the Park, up the hill, you know.....’ 

Everyone agreed.

‘Let’s start now,’ Tom said.  ‘I’ll go up to the Co-op and get a few toilet rolls.’

‘And hand sanitizer.’ 

An urgent ringing on the doorbell caused all four to startle.  Mimi rose to hobble to the front door.  She used a stick these days, as arthritis made walking painful.  It was, she explained, the result of her dancing, especially her ankle was most bothersome.  Since coming to Faradise Park she had injured her right ankle a few times.  

‘Oh!  Marjorie.  Hello.’

Marjorie Lovelock, Flat Seven stood there.  Mimi gazed at her.  Her red eyes suggested she had been crying.

‘Could you come for a chat, please, Mimi?’  a request Marjorie made occasionally.  Mimi was happy to lend an ear.  Marjorie was a bit of a baby, having led a very sheltered life until widowhood sent her to Faradise Park, with it’s sheltered flats for over sixties.

‘Of course.  Give me ten minutes.’

Marjorie attempted a smile.  ‘Thanks.  Really grateful.’

Mimi closed the door and went back to the sitting room.  ‘Marjorie looks a bit upset.  I said I’d go up to her flat in ten minutes.  Can we resume this later?’

‘The Council of Whatever?’ Hester said.  ‘Come to us.  Fairy cakes and wine.  Two o’clock.’

‘We can all have a good think ‘til then.’ Tom said.

* * *

‘Thanks for coming, Mimi.  I’m getting myself in a bit of a state.  Please sit down.  Is it too early for glass of wine?’

‘No.  Fine.  Do me good.’  Mimi sat facing her.

‘So, what’s bothering you, Marjorie?’

‘This.’  Marjorie waved the notice. It had come through her letter box earlier.  ‘We’ve all had one.’

‘Yes.  But it presents certain problems for me that I don’t think anyone else will have to contend with.’

Mimi raised big, startled eyes, thought for a few seconds, before exclaiming ‘Oh, of course!  Rob!’

‘Yes!’  Marjorie fairly bounced in her chair.  ‘Exactly!  We’ve been in this relationship for nearly two years now, and I thought it would be like this forever.  You know?  He’s been coming here two or three times a week, nipping up the backstairs and staying the night.  He leaves in the morning, creeping down the backstairs and goes back to his place in Milton Stanwick.  He leaves behind all the new building, like the extra care block, Milton Faradise, and the Travellers’ Site.  But now from March the 23rd he won’t be able to.  I don’t know what to do.’ She dabbed her eyes with a sodden tissue.  ‘Why don’t we have some of this,’ she said leaning forward to fill the glasses on the low table.  

Mimi lifted her glass.  ‘Cheers.  I do understand.  But tell me,’ she said sipping from her glass, ‘what would you really like to do?’

‘Really, carry on as we are.’

‘That’s impossible, isn’t it?  If he gets Covid 19 you’ll catch it and everyone else here will probably get it.  That’s a huge number of people.  Think about the guilt.’

‘That’s just what I have been doing, ever since this,’ and she waved the notice with contempt, ‘this came through the letterbox this morning.’

‘And the alternative?’

‘Split.’

‘Forever?’

‘At my age, it might well be forever.  For heaven’s sake, Mimi, I’ve only just at sixty years of age discovered a sex life.’  She laughed shamefacedly, ‘but also, I’ve never had anyone I’ve really loved.’

Mimi nodded.  ‘Better late than never.’

‘Of course.  You know.  But I don’t want it to be never, so soon.’

‘Do you think you could cope with the present situation?  Just carry on.’

‘I’m scared to.  I haven’t discussed it with Rob yet, of course, but as you said just now, suppose one of us gets Covid, the implications are horrendous.’

‘People could die,’ Mimi said, without mercy.  They sat in silence for some minutes, sipping wine.  Then Mimi said, ‘Of course, if he is willing, Rob could move in with you.’

Marjorie put down her glass, gave Mimi a horrified glance, her face flaming.  She sat with her head lowered ‘But that would mean asking Lena if he could come and live here in my flat.  I would be so embarrassed.’  Lena was the Manager of Faradise Park.

‘No need,’ Mimi said.  ‘Think about it.  You’d get used to it.  Look, I ought to go back, Tom will wonder where I’ve gone.  I’ll look in again later, after you’ve had a think.’  She rose stiffly, grasped her walking stick and limped from the flat feeling nearly as wretched as the weeping Marjorie was.

* * *

Tom shot out of the front door of flat four.  He was on an errand.  There had been reports of shortages.  He left Mimi behind, because it was too far for her to walk to the village and back.  This had been a recent development, but Mimi had not made much fuss about it, though he recognised her frustration and bad temper at being left behind.  To compensate on this particular occasion, he planned to execute the task – purchasing toilet rolls – as speedily as possible.

He was already slightly out of breath by the time he reached the main exit to Faradise Park.  A brisk walk across the parkland was chilling and disturbing.  It ruffled his hair, what there was of it.  The thought of being almost a prisoner and confined by that exit was alarming.  He preferred not to dwell on it and focused on his self-appointed errand. Along the main road he passed Dave and Caroline Miller’s extended bungalow.  Dave and Caroline were great supporters of Faradise Park although, with two-year-old twins – one named after Tom and one named after Mimi – their time was limited.  

He reached the village.  There seemed to be a lot of people and a slight atmosphere outside the Co-op.  Tom went straight into the shop, to the shelf which he knew would be stocked with toilet rolls. The shelf was empty.