Love in Lockdown

by Chloe James

  ‘Oh my gosh, that’s terrible … but I guess I can understand why.’ The fact she gets this makes me feel ridiculously happy.

  ‘Yeah, I was angry. Angry with why I had to take them and angry with everyone, really.’

  ‘What happened?’ she asks.

  ‘I felt ill and stupid. My mum found out and was upset, but she was cool. She just sat me down and said I didn’t have to take them but if I wanted to stay well it was pretty necessary.’

  ‘She sounds a sensible mum. I’d like to meet her.’

  ‘You know the invitation is there,’ I tell her. ‘She would adore you.’ She would too; I just know it. She didn’t ever really like Laura; I think she knew right from the start it was a mistake. Though she had tried very hard with her. Of course I was so determined to be independent, to go my own way, that I wouldn’t listen to her warnings. ‘Does your mum understand?’ I ask, biting into a piece of chocolate.

  ‘Not really,’ Sophia admits. ‘Because she’s a GP, she can be quite matter-of-fact. If you need meds, take them – she doesn’t always understand why you might not want to. She’s studied the whole science of it and is frustrated that anyone might refuse to take something that can make them better.’

  ‘Fair enough – she’s right really,’ I say.

  ‘She is, but it doesn’t take into account the emotions that go alongside, of wanting to drink, to go out partying, be like your friends.’

  ‘True but then no one really understands unless they’ve been through it,’ I reply.

  ‘I’ve never met anyone like you, Jack,’ she says softly, and my heart flips. ‘You just totally get it. I felt so alone before with this diagnosis, but not any more.’

  I can’t believe she’s just said that. ‘Me too,’ I tell her. ‘I mean I’ve felt alone too. Even Sam doesn’t really understand, but you do.’

  ‘Well … we can be alone together,’ she says.

  ‘Deal, well – almost together, anyway.’

  Chapter 33

  Sophia

  ‘So soon things might be changing,’ I say to the kids, who are busy making May Day pictures out of wrapped-up tissue paper.

  ‘I don’t want them to,’ says Alfie. ‘I’ve got used to this now.’

  ‘I think we all feel like that and that’s normal, but all the kids at home are going to want to gradually start coming back to school. Businesses need to open and parents have to go back to work.’

  ‘It’s nicer without the other kids,’ says Freya categorically, folding some purple paper with terrifying precision.

  ‘I don’t want things to change,’ says Zane. ‘I have a whole table to myself,’ he sweeps his arm all over his desk for emphasis.

  ‘Change can be a good thing. We might be scared of it, but sometimes it can be lovely and we don’t want to be separated from our friends all the time do we? Now speaking of a positive change, who would like to see a photo of a little dog I am helping my neighbour Bertie to adopt?’

  ‘Yes, yes please!’

  I hold up a photo of Tilly, which I’ve printed out especially to show everyone. She’s looking really regal with her long ears dangling down either side of her face, and she’s sitting on a very nice tartan cushion.

  ‘Oh she’s so cute,’ shrieks Lola.

  As I’m driving home, I consider how quickly things are moving. Bertie’s going to have a new friend and hopefully he won’t be so lonely any more, and there are announcements on the news that by the 1st of June schools might start having children back a year at a time, the youngest first.

  I’m so excited for Bertie about the dog, but apprehensive how everything’s going to work out. The thought of the letter is loud in the back of my mind. I’ve given my stepdad the writing case for his friend to fix, having removed the letter for safekeeping and put it in my old jewellery box. But no matter how far down in my drawers it’s carefully buried, its contents and the effect they’re going to have on Bertie worry me, along with the decision I need to make at some point about my meds.

  I’ve tried talking to Jess about it but like everything else: it’s all totally simple in her mind.

  ‘Well of course you’ll stop taking them,’ she says, rustling her bag of crisps at the other end of the line.

  ‘Not necessarily.’

  ‘But you’ve been saying to me they’re making you feel awful.’

  ‘Well yes they do, but the thing is, I don’t want a seizure.’

  ‘But you’ve had them before and you were fine.’ She has the grace to adjust this a little. ‘Well I know they’re not nice things to have but maybe you won’t have them now. Like the doctor said, sometimes the meds reset the brain signals and you won’t ever have another seizure.’

  ‘No one can guarantee that, though.’

  ‘No one can guarantee anything, love. You could walk out of the house and get run over by a bus.’

  ‘Not so likely at the moment,’ I point out. ‘There aren’t any running. I’ve never known our road so quiet.’

  ‘I just don’t know, Soph, but I always thought your seizures were caused by stress and that you might just stop having them. I mean you had twenty-five years without them. Maybe they’ve gone.’

  ‘But what if they haven’t?’

  ‘You’ll deal with it,’ she says confidently, ‘like you deal with everything because you are an incredible person. I know it’s tough but if you don’t try coming off the meds, you’ll never know.’

  Back at home, I make a cup of tea and pop a couple of chocolate cakes and a picture of a rainbow Lola made for Jack in the basket, which he has just lowered down.

  ‘Is this for me?’ he asks sounding really surprised.

  ‘Yes of course. It’s for your window.’

  ‘But Lola doesn’t know me.’

  ‘No but she knows about you – they all do. I told them how you’re having to stay in all the time and she felt sorry, so made you a tissue rainbow.’

  ‘It’s very vibrant. I’ve just stuck it on my window. I think I might have scattered your balcony with falling bits of tissue paper though.’ He pauses. ‘I feel embarrassed you’ve been talking to the kids at school about me.’

  ‘You don’t need to be,’ I reassure him, wondering if I talk too much about Jack when he’s someone I’ve never even met. ‘You’re quite a celebrity. Well – you and Tilly the dog.’

  ‘So that went well?’

  ‘Yes, she’s so sweet and super friendly, jumped all over my legs and washed my face whenever she could get near enough.’

  ‘Bertie will love her; she sounds perfect.’

  ‘Perfect as long as she has someone with her. I think she’s got some antisocial behaviours if she’s left on her own for any length of time.’

  ‘Bertie won’t leave her much at all,’ Jack answers. ‘I can imagine he’ll take her everywhere.’

  ‘Yes and there’s a difference between him needing to pop out to the shop for a second and going to work for hours. She’ll soon get used to the idea he’s coming back soon if he just leaves her for a short amount of time.’

  ‘When are you taking her to Bertie?’

  ‘Next weekend. Jan is working most of this week and wants to be there to say goodbye.’

  ‘I can understand that. It must be heartbreaking.’

  ‘She’s totally devastated as she loves Tilly, but she knows it’s the right thing. I felt terrible because she started crying today but all I could do was reassure her that she’s going to a wonderful home and Bertie will send her updates.’

  ‘He will. He’s a good bloke. I wish I could meet Tilly. I’d love a dog. Mum and Dad always wanted one but couldn’t since Sam and I were born, because they were too busy working.’

  ‘I know, same with us. One day it would be great to have one.’

  ‘What breed would you choose?’ Jack asks me.

  ‘I don’t know, I’m not too fussed. I love Benson but Tilly is gorgeous too. I think I’d rescue definitely. How about you?’

  �
�I love big dogs, who you can have a good old walk and game of ball with, but I like all dogs.’ Jack sighs. ‘Right now, the thought of a walk is the most exciting thing ever.’ I can imagine. He’s been in for over six weeks now.

  ‘I wish you could come with me. I took Benson to meet Greg’s college kids yesterday.’

  ‘How did it go? I bet they loved it.’

  ‘It was incredible,’ I tell him. ‘Benson is usually the biggest loon ever, jumping and bounding all over the place. I have a job to keep hold of him on a walk usually. But with these kids, he seemed to be on his best behaviour. He went up to Lally, the student Greg was telling us about. She’s been stuck in lockdown away from her parents for more than six weeks now and he just wagged his tail, gave her one of his ridiculously huge paws and leaned against her with his head on her knee.’

  ‘I think dogs sense, don’t they, whether someone’s scared or lonely?’ Jack observes.

  ‘Yes, having seen this, I truly believe they do. Lally would hardly come out of the residential college at first. She just shrank back into the doorway when I approached, but once I let Benson off such a short lead, she squatted down with him and started telling me how she has a dog at home, who she really misses. She was chatting away.’

  ‘Animals are a good leveller, aren’t they? They don’t care if you’re different for whatever reason; they like you anyway.’

  ‘Shame people aren’t a bit more like that.’

  ‘Maybe some of them are,’ says Jack.

  Chapter 34

  Jack

  For the first time in ages, I hear the rattle of the front letterbox and I wander blearily towards it, armed with the obligatory disposable gloves, whilst tripping over my dressing gown belt. I must get myself a new one; this old thing got trapped in the door near the beginning of lockdown and has disintegrated and unravelled into nothing more than a long threaded piece of string.

  There are a couple of bits of post; one uninspiring-looking envelope, obviously from the bank – it has that kind of bleak, formal look about it. The other one I pick up immediately as it has printed at the top right: Chiropractic College. I stare at it, willing it to have good news inside. Or it could just be some course information, nothing more.

  The call had gone well the other day – I think it had, anyway. It’s always so hard to judge with interviews. I had somehow managed to get myself into a shirt and tie – I was worried the shirt wouldn’t fit after the combination of my sedentary lockdown lifestyle and the delicious treats Sophia sends up. It was a little snug, but the tie covered the straining buttons I think. I have now started to do Joe Wicks’ YouTube workout every day in a desperate attempt to keep myself vaguely fit. That and a strange kickboxing video I found, which is kind of weird but works and is great for stress relief.

  It’s strange to think I didn’t even know what Zoom was a few months ago, yet now I’m getting quite good at it. Calls to Sam and his little family as well as Mum and Dad have become a regular occurrence. I had even arranged an Easter Day Zoom call with the whole family, which was dominated totally by little Carrie of course, with Mum and her Blue Toothpaste episode threatening to overshadow the whole proceedings.

  ‘The picture is flickering,’ she had complained, tapping the screen as though somehow this would help.

  ‘It’s probably a bad connection,’ Sam had said. He and Tina and Carrie were all looking the picture-perfect family on their screen. Carrie’s gorgeous beaming smile could now hold the attention of the whole room. It was a smile that would melt even the strictest non-baby-admiring fraternity.

  ‘Dad says it’s something to do with Blue Toothpaste,’ she announced. ‘They keep sending me information on it and saying I can get a better deal if I go with Blue Toothpaste.’

  I could see out the corner of my eye that Sam, Tina, and even Carrie looked confused. We couldn’t work out what Mum was talking about. She just wasn’t making any sense.

  ‘Blue Toothpaste?’ exclaimed Sam scratching his head. ‘Oh you mean Bluetooth?’

  We had all snorted and laughed hysterically and even Mum had looked amused. They should really give her a job to check out technology for user friendliness – if my mum can work it anyone can. I’m sure she would be invaluable working for a technology giant somewhere.

  I eye the envelope now and quickly tear it open before I can change my mind.

  Dear Mr. Stanton,

  We are delighted to inform you that after your Zoom interview on 29th April, we are offering you a place to study Sports Science starting on 7th September 2020.

  Please find enclosed your acceptance form, which we would be grateful if you could sign and return by 1st June. We have also attached an information booklet on reading for the course and other important details. Congratulations and please do not hesitate to contact me if you have any other questions.

  Yours sincerely,

  Diane Reeves

  I’ve done it! I fist-punch the air and do a ridiculous little dance that I’m glad no one is here to see. That’s one of the few good things about shielding; no one is around to witness my strange dancing, my dodgy trackie bottom and Donald Duck T-shirt combination (I know, I should have got rid of that old T-shirt years ago). I feel a glimmer of hope in spite of everything. Soon I can get on with the rest of my life.

  My phone sings out and I snatch it up immediately, hoping it’s Sam or Sophia or even Mum and Dad. I have to tell someone the news. But it isn’t, it’s Laura.

  ‘Oh hi,’ I say feeling a wave of disappointment. I really don’t want my good mood quashed. Come on, life; just give me a chance to feel more upbeat for a moment.

  ‘Have I phoned at a bad time?’ she asks, obviously sensing my mood.

  ‘No, it’s fine,’ I reply, squashing down my feelings with an effort. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Fine thanks – look, I won’t keep you.’ She sounds unusually businesslike.

  I’m sort of stunned because I’m mostly used to her trying to persuade me to have her back, or moaning about the fact that I haven’t returned her calls. ‘Okay,’ is all I can manage.

  ‘I’ve decided to sign the divorce papers.’

  I’m flabbergasted. I thought this was never going to happen. ‘Do you …’ I clear my throat nervously, hoping I’ve heard and understood her correctly. ‘Do you really mean it?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve signed them and I’ll stick them in the post box this afternoon.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes really.’ Laura laughs wryly. ‘You don’t have to be that surprised. I know I’ve been a bit of a bitch about it all, but I’ve thought a lot about it since we last spoke and you’re right. We’re just not right for each other. I was hoping you might turn back into the fun-loving, wacky guy I fell in love with in Crete and you’ve made me realise it’s never gonna happen.’

  Alleluia, she finally understands. ‘No, I’m pretty boring really,’ I say, more than happy to admit to this shortcoming if it means Laura and I can get on with our separate lives. ‘Although,’ I add, because I’m just so excited about it, ‘I’ve just been accepted to study at the Chiropractic College. Start later this year.’

  ‘That’s … er, great? If that’s what you want. It is, isn’t it?’ she asks uncertainly.

  ‘Yeah,’ I tell her, smiling because Laura has definitely forgotten this ambition of mine, ‘it’s what I planned before – well before I got in a terrible stress and went off the rails, really.’

  ‘I’m pleased for you, Jack. I really am. And guess what? As soon as this lockdown is over, Kimi and I are going travelling.’ Kimi is one of the many friends Laura made in Agios Nikolaos.

  ‘That’s amazing. Where will you go?’ I ask, genuinely interested.

  ‘Thought we’d start in Ghana and move on round the coast. If travel restrictions allow. If not, we’ll go wherever we are able to. The tents are packed and ready and my kit’s all stocked up. As soon as this mess is over, I’m out of here.’

  ‘Good for you. You’ll have an
amazing time – make sure you make the most of every minute.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘And, Laura?’ I add.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ she says. ‘I’m doing it for me too. Stay safe.’

  ‘And you …’ I start, but she’s gone. Just like that, it’s over. She’s out of my life and I feel … relief, mainly, and a hint of sadness at what we did to each other, what a waste it was. But this is the right thing; I could hear the passion in her voice when she talked of travelling.

  And my passion? It’s here with my family and a young woman who lives downstairs who I’ve never met, but I have fallen head over heels in love with nevertheless. I have to tell her, to plan the most amazing virtual date. For the first time in months I feel elated, on top of the world.

  Speaking of which, I can hear Sophia on the phone, or maybe talking to Erica, and she sounds pretty excited. I wander out onto the balcony, ready to talk to her when she hangs up, but … ‘Ryan,’ I hear her say, along with something else I can’t catch. Shocked, the wind well and truly taken out of my sails, I sink down onto the lounger on my balcony. Maybe I’ve misheard.

  ‘I’m glad you’re okay,’ she’s saying. ‘Yes, it’s been a difficult time for everyone. I’ve been busy working though and yeah Jess is fine. She had a lockdown wedding. Yes, I’ll say hi to her for you when we next speak. How’s your mum?’

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Why are they back in touch? And surely this conversation should sound more awkward if they truly haven’t spoken since the break-up? She’s probably just being polite, though. Sophia is like a friendly puppy with everyone she meets – that’s why we all love her. And when I think about it, I can hear a hint of reserve in her voice. She’s not comfortable during this conversation, of course she’s not, and I have to admit that I wouldn’t want anyone listening to my phone calls with Laura, or drawing any conclusions from them. Half the time I don’t know what I’m saying. I stand up to move back inside. I’m eavesdropping for goodness’ sake.