"And you have to keep two litres away from people..."

Here's the second in Maggie Redding's trio of stories about the residents of fictional Faradise Park coping with the very real Covid pandemic. Love life gets more complicated in lockdown.

 

ROOM FOR ROB?

The shelf was empty.

He came to a halt.

‘Janey!’ he called to the assistant.

‘If you’re after loo rolls, Tom they’re all gone.  We’ve had a rush on them.  I blame the Government.’

And he thought he had such a brilliant idea.  ‘And you have to keep two litres away from people.’ Janey added.

‘Two litres?’  Tom said, about to find humour in the situation.  More people were coming into the Co-op, so he left in a hurry.

Once outside, he was inspired by the sight of an approaching bus.  He ran to the bus stop, his arm sticking out to hail the driver.  Breathless, he sprang aboard, then had to search every pocket on him to find his bus pass, the fear growing, matching the driver’s impatience, that he had left it in the flat.  

‘Aah!  There it is!’  He slapped the bus pass before the driver then stumbled to sink onto a seat.  The bus rumbled its way to Sittenden, while Tom mentally rehearsed his route to all the supermarkets and cut-price stores he could recall.

Altogether he spent nearly two hours traipsing to and from these three supermarkets and two cut-price stores.  One supermarket had sold out of toilet rolls two others had a diminished stock.  Of the two cut-price stores, one had a good display, the other had few and by the time Tom left, none at all.  He had systematically filled a black plastic bag to capacity.  Fighting the breeze he staggered to the bus station for the return journey with this burden.  It was not easy.  The bag split slightly as he passed a folded pushchair on the bus, while he wrestled with his bus pass to stow it away safely.  By the time he alighted, outside Faradise Park, he was quite tired.  The stiff breeze had whipped up, it was vicious now, making his burden even more difficult to manage as he made his way up the drive.  He was close to the main door when he heard someone calling him from some distance behind him.  He turned.  That was his undoing.  His grip on the black plastic bag loosened.  The breeze wrestled it from him.  Toilet rolls spilled all over the front of the Park.  The voices behind him became laughter.  Trying to retrieve some of these toilet rolls he fell and stayed there on the grass.  He was totally exhausted.

Hester and Mel had been behind him, each with a large full carrier bag loaded with toilet rolls.  They helped recapture his shopping and his dignity.  From everywhere people appeared to help him.  Suspicion of their motives made his thanks sound less gallant.  They’d all want a share.  He supposed he would have to let people in need benefit from his enterprise.  Would he charge for them?  Honestly why couldn’t people be more self-responsible?

Mimi appeared, which pleased him.  She always understood his feelings, even the most stupid feelings.

As soon as Tom left on his errand to the Co-op, Mimi darted out and up to the second floor to Marjorie’s flat.  Marjorie was pleased to see her, but had consumed

most of what was left in the bottle of wine she had opened that morning.  Her cheeks were bright red.  They sat down, as they had earlier.

‘I wondered if you had any further thoughts?’

‘Not really,’ Marjorie said ‘sorry.’

‘You see,’ Mimi continue, ‘being embarrassed is not really a choice.  You either go and ask Lena, or you don’t want that.  I mean, after all, Lena has Izzie living with her and has for a while now.’

‘Are they, you know – together?’  Marjorie, looking for distraction spied Tom crossing the park.

‘He’s going to buy toilet rolls in case there’s a long lockdown,’ Mimi said.  ‘Let’s concentrate on Rob.  Yes, Lena and Izzie are an item.’

‘Really?  I never guessed.’

‘I think it’s not a subject for speculation.  Would you like to be able to do that?’

‘Rob move in?  Yes, I wouldn’t want to move into his flat.  I know that.  This flat is such a wonderful gift, it really is.  I don’t want to do anything to lose it.’

‘Go down and ask Lena, straight away.’

‘But I haven’t asked Rob yet.’

‘There won’t be any point in asking Rob if she says no, will there?’

‘No, I suppose not.’  Marjorie sat staring out of the window.  She noticed two figures plodding along the driveway.  ‘Look,’ she said, ‘there’s Hester and Mel.’

‘Going shopping I expect. I expect. Possibly for toilet rolls.  Tom seemed obsessed by the possible shortage of toilet rolls.  I don’t know why.  I would have focussed on something else, wouldn’t you?’

‘Yes, long-life milk.’

* * *

Tom, struggling against the stiff breeze tried to make his way up the drive. People came to help him, but red-faced and defensive he did not want help.  Hester and Mel, also somewhere on the field, participating in this new sport, were laughing.  Hester, with her huge carrier bag, the enormous posh sort doled out by supermarkets as a bribe to gain custom and even loyalty, and the contents spilled.  

Mimi went to her aid.  Everyone else was helping Tom.  He, after all, had the most plunder.  Hester’s bag, Mimi noted, had not contained only toilet rolls.  Among those were a couple of packets of incontinence pads.  Mimi felt a pang of sorrow for Hester.  Everything happened to Hester.  Mimi grabbed the packets, shoved them into the carrier bag and disguised their presence with some packets of toilet rolls, then looked up at Hester to see if she realised Mimi had perceived her secret.  

Once up in Flat 4, Mimi made tea for the four friends.  They counted their harvest, as they insisted on calling it.

‘Mostly packets of four,’ Mel said.  ‘Some nines and a lot of odd ones, mostly yours, Tom, escapees from the black bag.  Altogether I reckon it is about one hundred toilet rolls.’

‘Is that all?’ Tom said, disappointed. ‘They won’t last long, will they?’

* * *

By late afternoon, Lena had observed that the chaos on the Park had cleared.  She was dealing with paperwork when Lucy Dean (her surname still not changed) appeared, breathless in the doorway of the office.

‘Lucy, hello.  How are things?’  Lena greeted her.

‘Not bad.’  Lucy edged her way into the office, she was now a full-time Care Assistant in Milton Faradise, the Extra Care extension.  She also, like Rob Hargreaves, was a regular volunteer to the Traveller’s Site.  They had been instrumental in helping to set up the permanent site, and had good relationships with the residents.  Daisy, Lucy’s particular protégée, at nearly fifteen, now attended Lucy’s once hated school.  

‘They are closing all the schools,’ Lucy said.  ‘Wouldn’t I have loved that?  What I need to know, Lena, is how will it affect my work, this lockdown?’

‘Not in the way it will affect schools,’ Lena replied.  ‘You should speak to Izzie about that.’  Izzie was the Senior Carer.  ‘She has all the information.  Don’t be afraid to confide in her if you have problems with the job.  And you might well have a few now.  Consult Rob about the Travellers and the Site.’  The phone rang.

‘I’ll leave you, Lena.  Just wanted to say hello.  And to tell you Daisy is going to do ‘O’ Levels next year.’

‘That’s wonderful.’  Lena turned her attention to the phone.

* * *

At two weeks into lockdown the residents of Faradise Park were beginning to be restless.  So were some of the staff.  

‘If I have any ore updates on Coronavirus’, Lena said, ‘from the Trust, I shall tear them up into little pieces’.  She shuffled irritably at papers on her desk.  A tall imposing red-head, Lena was middle-aged and under no circumstances now did she maintain a reassuring calm.  ‘It’s becoming ridiculous.  How can anyone expect older people to remember such details and changes?’

Izzie strolled across the office to her.  ‘You mean there’s more?’  She was a small, dark-haired, quiet woman.

‘Of course there are.  I expect it now.’

A tap on the door interrupted any thoughts either woman might have on Lockdown, Coronavirus or restless residents.

‘Come in,’ Lena called cheerfully.

Marjorie Lovelock entered as Izzie left.

‘Oh, thank goodness it’s you, Marjorie.  I feared it might be someone truly awful.’

Marjorie, who was feeling tense, relaxed and smiled as she was meant to do.  Lena gestured towards a chair adjacent to the desk.  ‘How can I help?’

‘I need to ask you something.’

‘About Coronavirus?  Go ahead.’

‘Well, it’s not really about Coronavirus.  But it’s about this wretched Lockdown.’  Marjorie’s breath was coming in nervous gasps.

‘Yes?’  Lena smiled and looked her in the eye.  She had a good idea of what was coming.  She had known Marjorie for over two years now, since she had arrived at Faradise Park.  Lena’s interest in the residents went beyond duty.

‘Go ahead,’ she said again to encourage the woman.  

Going ahead for Marjorie was far from easy.  ‘Lena, it’s like this.  I’ve – I’ve been seeing Rob Hargreaves for over two years now.  He lives in the village where he’s well-known and respected.  He had a lot to do with setting up the Traveller’s Site.’

Lena knew of Rob Hargreaves, his voluntary work at the Milton Stanwick Traveller’s Site and of the long-running relationship between him and Marjorie Lovelock.  She allowed Marjorie to finish her well-rehearsed speech.  

‘I’m asking you before I put the idea to him, just in case he doesn’t like it.’

‘Asking what precisely, Marjorie?’

‘If he could come to share my flat with me.’

‘I see,’ Lena said, observing Marjorie’s flaming face, ‘and where does this leave you if he doesn’t like it?’

‘I – I dread to think.’  Marjorie fiddled with the silk scarf looped around her neck.  ‘Certainly we would not be able to see each other for the duration of the Lockdown.’

‘You hadn’t thought of moving out of Faradise Park, and moving in with him?’

‘No.  Definitely not.  I value my little flat far too much.  It was like a gift from heaven.  I’d have to give it up, wouldn’t I?’

‘I’m glad.  I think Faradise Park has done a lot for you.  You most certainly would not be allowed to come back, the Trust does not look kindly on having two homes.  But let’s look at your favoured option, Rob coming here.  As you know residents coming here have to fulfil certain conditions.  We would have to work out if he qualified.’

‘And if he doesn’t qualify?’

‘That would be the end of the question.  Except for one circumstance.’

Marjorie suddenly sat up alert.  ‘What is that?’

‘If you were to marry.’

Marjorie stared, then burst into tears.  She stood up and made to leave.

‘Marjorie,’ Lena said, ‘send him to me if he is interested in moving in here.’

‘Don’t tell him that!’

‘I won’t.’  But Lena knew who would.

Author's note: 'Faradise Park does not exist, except in my imagination. It was my personal and inner response to a bad experience in a sheltered flats scheme where we were bullied out by homophobes.
The characters also do not exist and are not people who are real. There are three books about Faradise Park and the characters who live there:  Almost Paradise, Nothing Like Paradise and Planning for Paradise.'