Lockdown

By Frances Edington

Lockdown affects different people in different ways. For those addicted to routine, for those allergic to the dictates of Authority, for those who feel alive only in a football crowd or packed pub, Social Isolation at Home is a constraint at best and at worst a nightmare. Luckily not everyone is the same; some of us are putting out the flags in celebration of Peace and Quiet. But this isn’t my story, it’s about Billy and how Lockdown changed his life.

In the twenty-five years Billy had lived on Earth, he’d known only a life of crime. His father Joe was a burglar and provided well for the family; he’d only been caught once – as a teenager – since when he’d adopted the mantra: don’t get caught. It was a mantra Joe taught his sons before he passed on his other skills.

From an early age, Billy had proved adept at picking pockets – or handbags or supermarket shelves. At first, his gleanings went into the family fund, but when he married Wendy, his earnings were his. Now, two years on, they were expecting their first child; that child would grow up in its own home. He’d bought a terraced house in the East End, aided by loans from his father’s friends; his people never took out loans from banks; they burgled banks.

Wendy had little idea where her housekeeping money came from. Billy led her to believe he worked for a bookie and discouraged further enquiries. In fact, his place of work was a crowd, any crowd. He started work on the Circle Line in the morning rush hour, then mingled with shoppers in Oxford Street or in busy supermarkets. He attended all the big events – Wimbledon, Wembley, the Derby, the Grand National – as well as crowded train and bus stations.

As Billy worked, the mantra inculcated by his father rang in his mind: don’t get caught. Over the years he’d developed an instinct for the trap, the bulging wallet sticking out of a back pocket asking to be nicked; like as not, there’d be someone watching that wallet. He’d also developed an eye for plain-clothes policemen; it was as if they wore Day-Glo with the slogan Copper blazoned across front and back.

He’d never been greedy; he was deft at his work and since he was careful he avoided trouble. He expected to clear his debts by the time he was thirty, then he and Wendy would save for a villa in Spain and he’d retire early, like his father had done two years before.

Uncle Bert had just been returned after spending the winter in Joe’s villa but now Spain had become the latest focus for the pandemic. He and Wendy had spent Christmas with her parents so escaped possible infection, which was fortunate. What wasn’t so fortunate was this edict from the Government that everyone had to stay in social isolation.

How apposite were the words of the Scottish Bard: the best laid plans of mice and men gang aft agley. His plans had certainly gone agley. At a stroke he’d been put out of work – as had millions of others – but unlike those others, he was unlikely to be eligible for a Government pay-out; nor could he present his case to an Industrial Tribunal. How on Earth were they going to manage? His only skill was now useless; his work required him to be close up and personal but with social isolation that was impossible. In any case, he’d have to keep away from people for the sake of Wendy’s health and the baby’s.

Early on the first Monday of lockdown, Billy set off for the shops; Wendy wanted to go; she didn’t think he’d find all the things she needed; the supermarket was huge. But Billy wasn’t prepared to let her take the risk; he’d been shopping before; shopping wasn’t rocket science.

The streets were eerily empty; it was like a scene from one of those films about Earth after the Nuclear Bomb. One of the few figures on the street was old Maudie; she lived four doors down on their side. She was hovering outside her front door and Billy noticed with surprise that she seemed terrified.

‘It’s Maudie isn’t it?’ he stood the regulation six feet away to reassure her. ‘You need your shopping done? I’m off to the shops so if you have a list of the things you need, I’ll get them while I’m there.’

Maudie’s face relaxed but there was still a problem: she couldn’t get to the Post Office to collect her pension.

‘Don’t you worry about that, my love; I’ll speak to the lady at Age Concern. I’m sure they have a system for such things. You needn’t worry about paying today; we’ll sort it out later.’

This uncharacteristic concern for a stranger set Billy thinking. Lockdown changed so many things, things the authorities couldn’t possibly foresee. Everyone’s life was different; everyone’s needs were different. Faced with such a sudden and fundamental change in the fabric of daily life, people were going to have to adapt just as the East Enders had adapted during the Blitz. He’d lived in the East End all his life; now he’d find out if he was a real East Ender.

Everyone needed to take responsibility, not only for themselves but for the vulnerable as well, which would be a challenge whilst maintaining social isolation. With absolute clarity Billy knew he’d find that adaptability and fortitude in himself; after all, he had the genes; his grandparents had survived the Blitz eighty years ago.

During the current crisis, Billy would have time to think about his future, to think about his place in a changed world after the virus. He’d been gobsmacked at his reaction to his offer of help to a complete stranger. He’d felt wonderful; he’d like to feel like that more often.

991 Words:

9^th April 2020