Now I'm the first one to say that my hubby is prone to exaggeration, but it was like stepping out into a strange new world. I felt like I was in a movie, as I queued behind a taped off marker in the supermarket car park. There was an eerie stillness outside and in. People moved about in silence, glancing at each other with suspicion. Some people wore masks and gloves but few wore smiles.
It wasn't the casual jaunt that I'd built it up to be on the drive there. By the time I'd cleared the fruit and veg department, I just wanted to be back home. I packed as much stuff as I could into my trolley so that it would be many days before either of us would have to venture here again.
As I was getting into my car, a familiar one pulled in next to me - Gordon and Margaret's bright purple hatchback was quite distinctive. I waved and they brazenly waved back, clearly unaware of the resentment that they'd stirred up in our house. Probably best not to mention it to John!
I called in to John's mum's on the way home with the cat food and a few treats for her. I positioned a deck chair on her lawn while she stood on the threshold of her back door.
"How are John and the children?" She strained to project, but much of her dainty little voice was taken away on the breeze.
"They're ok. The kids send their love to you!"
"What's that, Daisy?"
"They send their love!" I shouted, conscious of the neighbours on either side. "I hear you had a package yesterday."
"A marriage? Who?"
"No, a PACKAGE, June!"
"Pardon?"
"Hang on! I'll pull my chair a bit closer. No, not you June! Don't you come any closer. John will kill me if I'm within 4 metres. I promised him," I said, dragging the chair a few inches closer to the house.
"How is John? I was worried sick about him the other night after he brought the toilet paper. He was a bag of nerves. Hanging around in those bushes like a peeping Tom!" She indicated to the bushes at the furthest end of the garden. "He refused to come any closer."
"He's just being protective, I suppose."
"I reckon he needs to take, what is it Cleo's always telling him to take now?"
I chuckled. "A chill pill."
He had clearly not taken one this morning because he was out on the driveway the second that I arrived home, directing me and the groceries to the back door where I was met by a black bag. "Right, get them off!" he demanded.
"Ooh John! You're so masterful!"
"Stop pissing about Daisy! Strip off and put everything in the bag. The washing machine door is open and ready to go."
Suddenly he knows how to open the washing machine!!
"There is no way that I'm taking my clothes off in the driveway. Let me in right now John!"
"Your clothes could be teeming with Coronavirus, Daisy. Take them off!"
And so it continued for a few minutes until a compromise, as it usually was, was reached. I left my boots in the drive, to be sprayed with disinfectant. John fashioned a dress for me out of the bin bag (by cutting a hole for my head) to cover my clothes. Wearing it, I moved carefully through the house to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom, I put the clothes into the bag and showered. I then cleaned the parts of the bathroom that I'd touched.
As I disinfected my bottle of shower gel, I fondly recollected the days when I would do a full day's work then, do a week's family shop in half an hour flat on the way home. These days, the grocery shop was a full day's work in itself. And I still had to put it all away! John had made a start by the time I got downstairs, wiping everything over as he took it from the shopping bag.
One good thing about this palaver was that it must have distracted John from spotting our neighbours taking yet more toilet paper and tins of soup into their house. For this, I was at least grateful. I just wanted to eat some nice food and watch some mind-numbingly banal telly.
At 8pm I went past the front doorstep for the second time that day, for the weekly round of applause: a small way to thank all the wonderful people who are caring for and keeping our society running right now. Clapping, cheering and whistling rang out around our cul-de-sac. Everyone came out, even that grumpy, aging biker from across the road. The kids really threw themselves into it, bashing on saucepans with spoons. I looked around and began to get misty eyed, until I noticed that Marcus was beating the living shit out of my 60 quid casserole pot with a spanner.
It wasn't until nearly 9pm that I remembered that Olivia had mentioned the possible scheduling of a video conference today. Shit! Surely someone would have phoned me if they'd had one today, wouldn't they? The truth was though, that this last couple of days, I'd kind of forgotten that I actually had a job. This new arrangement had already started to feel like real life for me. I checked my work emails for the first time since the beginning of the week and was relieved to see that the conference had been delayed until Monday. According to Antonio, Olivia had managed to get herself arrested!
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