Covid Kindness

Jen tapped her finger repeatedly on the desk as her eyes darted over the words on her computer screen again. One last quick check for spelling. She leaned back in her chair and brought her finger to her mouth as she nibbled the nail. One last check for grammar. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then she opened them and clicked submit.

“Alexa!” she said. “Play radio.” She fell onto the couch and began flicking through her phone as she listened to the news.

“Prime Minister Colin Ashworth has today said that there is a possibility that close family members who do not live together may be able to visit one another as soon as Friday.”

Spotting movement outside and realising the time, Jan grabbed her cigarettes and a jumper before heading out. She lit her cigarette and then stuffed her fists into her pockets, shivering from the cold. “Evening,” she shouted, smiling at the older man in the garden across from her. The man smiled and brought a tired hand up to tip his hat slightly.

“Evening, Jen,” George replied, leaning a walking stick against the fence.

“Happy six-month mark!” Jen tried to joke, her eyes fixed on a spot in the distance. George scoffed before nodding his head and allowing the corners of his lips to turn up a little.

“Yeah. Happy bloody six-months, kid.”

“I heard the news just now. It sounds positive! Do you think Lily will make it up to see you on Friday?” Jen asked. George waved his hand in dismissal.

“It won't happen. I'm not getting my hopes up.”

“It has to happen sometime, George. Things have to go back to normal one day,” Jen said, trying to cheer him up.

“Hmm. We'll see,” George huffed, his eyes clocking a soldier walking towards the middle of the street. He held a gun and a surgical mask covered his nose and mouth. An alarm sounded after a few moments, ringing loudly in the distance. Jen flicked the end of her cigarette towards the drain and watched as it rolled in.

“Wednesday people! Let's move! Keep your distance from each other,” shouted the soldier.

“That's me,” said George, picking up his stick and walking down the front path to the pavement.

“Enjoy,” Jen smirked. “I wish it was my shopping day; I'm nearly out of teabags!”

George chuckled, giving her a small wave, a shopping bag falling down his arm as he did. He fell in line with the other Wednesdays and Jen watched as the remaining neighbours closed their doors. She took a long, deep breath in and held it in her lungs, savouring it for as long as she could before going back inside.

****************************

When her phone alarm sounded, Jen touched the snooze button and closed her eyes, aiming to maximise the full eight minutes and fifty-five seconds she had left before it went off again. Within a minute, she sighed and sat up. “Alexa! Play radio.” Two songs played whilst Jen lay still, her eyes falling on a small spider in the corner of the roof. As the clock changed to 8am, the news started. “Good morning. In what is being described as 'the latest in a long line of false hopes from the government,' Prime Minister Colin Ashworth has backtracked on his earlier suggestion that families can meet up. The relaxation of this guideline would have allowed families to visit one another at their house, many for the first time in six months. A statement from number ten said 'we are being advised by our scientists that we are not at that point yet.' Whilst this blow comes just one day after we reached six-months in lockdown, scientists at St Andrew's University are working on a vaccine that could be available by summer-”

“Alexa! Stop.” Jen let her head fall into her hands. She sighed and stood up, throwing her phone down onto her bed in frustration. Her shoulders fell and she made her way into the kitchen, flicking the kettle on and glancing across at George's house. She shook her head and headed for her desk, setting her coffee down and turning on her laptop to start work. As it loaded, her eyes moved to a picture frame beside her. She smiled at her friends' happy faces taken a few years ago whilst on a trip to Canada, took a deep breath, and logged in.

***********************************

“How are you?” Jen asked cautiously, alternating between a bite of a banana and a draw of her cigarette.

“It is what it is,” George shrugged, not looking up from his feet. He looked frail, both of his hands grasping the handle of his walking stick and leaning against it as he sat.

“It's not fair, is what it is,” Jen replied, making eye contact with the nearest soldier.

“In my experience, kid, life doesn't tend to be fair.” Jen shook her head, something she was sure she had done more times in the last few months than she had her entire life.

“It will end, George. It will end.” Jen tried her best to sound positive. She shot him a small smile filled with sympathy. George looked up to meet Jen's gaze.

“Let's just hope I'm still around to see it, eh?” he chuckled and moved to stand. An alarm sounded loudly and people returned to their houses.

“See you later,” Jen smiled. George tipped his hat and Jen watched out of the corner of her eye as a soldier started to walk towards her to move her inside.

************************************

Jen watched the clock at the bottom of her screen, willing the time to move faster so that she could hang up her headset for the weekend and relax. She watched the minutes move before logging off and pouring herself a small glass of wine. Her phone vibrated and she began to scroll through. Once her social media had been checked, she opened her emails, scanning for anything important. She tapped to open the top email, her eyes wide with surprise.

Dear Jen,

Congratulations! We are pleased to inform you that you are the runner up in our Writer of the Month competition. We just loved your entry, and are thrilled to award you with the prize of £500! An email will follow with payment instructions, so please keep an eye out for that.

Well done, and thank you for entering!

Stay creative!

The Bubble Team x

Jen stood up instinctively. She smiled and threw her hands up into the air, proud of her own achievement. She swallowed the rest of her wine and pulled her jacket on, grabbing her purse and some tote bags. She locked her door and headed to the bottom of her garden, looking across the road for George. She lit a cigarrete and tapped her foot on the ground. Realising he wasn't coming, she enjoyed the fresh air for a few minutes, before the alarm sounded again, and a soldier yelled “Friday people! Shopping day, let's move.” She stared at George's window for a few seconds more, ever defiant, before caving under the soldier's glare and moving out into the street.

“Keep your distance!” he added to nobody in particular. He gestured with his gun for Jen to keep up, hoarding the few Friday people onto a minibus, the seats of which had largely been removed.

****************************************

Jen looked out of her top-floor window, accessing who was on guard duty. One soldier sat below a street light playing on his phone. After a few minutes, he got up and walked over to a portaloo. Jen ran downstairs and grabbed two bags by the door, opening it and running quickly out of her gate and across the road. She placed the bags down and sprinted back inside, picking up her phone. She opened up her contacts and clicked on George's name.

“It's late, you know,” he said as he answered.

Jen laughed. “Open your door.”

“Out with the scheduled break times? Are you nuts?” he joked back.

“Just do it. He's at the toilet, do it quickly before he comes out!”

George huffed. “Alright!” He stood up far more slowly than he intended, age getting in the way of his body doing exactly what he wanted it to.

“Why weren't you outside earlier?” Jen asked, as though scorning him for missing out on valuable fresh air time.

“Lily called me during the break. My daughter is more important than fifteen minutes of regimented vitamin D,” George laughed. He leaned his stick against the wall by the door and opened it. Looking down, he saw a bag of groceries. His eyes moved over the items he could see; some bottles of beer, biscuits, tea bags, bread, milk, steak, vegetables, and fruit. To the left of it, propped up against it in a tall gift bag was a bunch of flowers and a card.

“Lilies,” he whispered. Tears stung his eyes, and he allowed them to pool and fall. They fell for the gesture, for the people who had died, for the loneliness and the longing he felt. He looked up to smile at Jen who was watching from her window.

“Thank you, kid,” he breathed, exhausted. Jen returned the smile she often gave him, sympathetic and sorry and helpless.

“Happy birthday, George.”