A Breathing Space Part 2 & Last

A Breathing Space Part 2 & Last

By Janet Baldey

Every Saturday, Sue visited her Mum. Fran had lived in London all her life and refused to leave her tiny two-up, two-down even though Kate continually nagged her to sell up.

‘London prices would pay for a lovely little cottage near us. You know your chest is bad, the fresh air would do you the world of good.’

But Fran always refused, ‘I’d be lost amongst all those fields. London suits me, I was born here and I’ll die here.’

Sue was torn between the two. She loved her Mum and liked having her nearby but she realised her sister was right. The Cornish wind would buy her Mum extra years. Especially now, she thought as she boarded the 205 bus.  Like the ticker-tape parades her Mum had told her about, snippets of news whirled into her living room whenever she switched on the box. The devil now had a name. It was called Coronavirus, or COVID-19 and there was no cure.  It began with a dry cough and high temperature and in many cases ended in death with the elderly being most at risk.

The world was gripped by panic The Diamond Princess, a huge cruise ship was quarantined just off the coast of Japan and heartrending ‘help us’ messages from its passengers flooded the internet. Britain recalled all its nationals as countries hunkered down; airports were closed and aerial views showed planes littering the runways like discarded toys.

As Sue rang her mother’s doorbell, she wondered if she would be able to persuade her mother to leave the city.  Her expectation was low. Fran could be as stubborn as a mule super-glued to the floor on occasions. As she prepared lunch, she practised her opening salvos.  Fully occupied, she was slicing tomatoes when a loud squawk made her knife slip. “Damn,” she muttered, sucking her finger.

“What’s up, Mum?”  Abandoning the salad, she returned to the living room where both Maisie and her Mum was staring at the television.

“Did you know all the schools are closing? An’ we’ve all got to self isolate for three months. Three months….” Her Mum’s voice trailed away as she took in the implication. “Does that mean you won’t be allowed to come and see me?”

Sue swallowed.   Her Mum had clearly left it too late to leave London and it was her 80^th birthday soon.  She tried a weak joke. “Happy Birthday, Mum,” she said. Nobody laughed.

They stared at the screen as the briefings continued and more facts emerged.  The first cases had occurred in England.   All pubs and restaurants were to be closed with only essential shops remaining open. Millions of people would lose their jobs and the Treasury was working on schemes to help those in need. Grave- faced politicians warned of dire consequences should self-isolation be ignored. Non-cooperation could result in thousands of extra cases. The NHS would be overwhelmed and people would die in corridors.

Sue felt her Mum’s arm slide around her. “Best have a cuddle while we still can” she said.

As they huddled together Sue looked at the shining crown of Maisie’s head. With panicking mothers in mind, the government had taken pains to emphasise that children were the least affected, with the exception of those with underlying health issues. Sue thought of Maise’s asthma and fear twisted her stomach.  She couldn’t wait to get home and bar the door behind them.

After Maisie had gone to bed, Sue looked around her tiny flat that threatened to become their prison for the next three months. She had no idea how to keep her lively seven year old occupied. Four small rooms and no balcony.  Even at this early stage, she felt its walls closing in on her.  Just then her mobile vibrated and a picture of Kate flashed onto its screen.  Warily, she picked it up.

‘Kate….is anything wrong?’

         ‘Not at this end. We’re fine; I just wanted to talk about Maisie.’

Sue’s pulse quickened. Kate rarely phoned and if she was concerned it was not good news.  It wasn’t just her being worry-guts.  Maisie really was at risk.

‘I’m worried Kate. London is at the epicentre,’ her voice wobbled.

‘That’s why I’m ringing, love. Pete and I have had a chat. How would you feel about Maisie coming to stay with us for a bit? She’d be safer here.’

Sue almost dropped her phone and for a moment, couldn’t speak. She’d not expected this.  With Kate’s metallic voice quacking in her ear, she struggled to think.  Eventually, she realised her main emotion was one of relief.

‘Are you sure?’ she said at last.

‘Absolutely, and I think we’d better come and pick her up as soon as possible.  They might start stopping long-distance travel.’

After Kate rang off, Sue went into Maisie’s room and stood looking down at the small figure sprawled across the bed. As usual, she had kicked off her covers and Sue’s hand shook as she re-arranged them. Would Kate think to do that tomorrow night?  Kate wasn’t used to children; would Maisie’s incessant chatter get on her nerves? Would Maisie be homesick?  Tears threatened as she bent down and brushed her daughter’s cheek with her lips. She longed to hold her tight but knew she mustn’t wake her. When she finally crawled into bed she lay staring into the dark, her brain a hamster’s wheel endlessly circling with questions, the uppermost being ‘had she done the right thing’?

The flat seemed dead after Maisie left. Although full of furniture, its rooms echoed.  Sue picked things up, put them down again and ended up slumped in her chair, staring at the telly, waiting until she could escape into sleep.

The days limped by as she tried to keep herself busy; she turned out cupboards, re-arranged furniture and cleaned and polished until surfaces dazzled.  All the time, her heart ached for her former routine,  all the old familiar tasks that formerly she’d considered chores.  She yearned for the past. She didn’t like the ‘new normal’. Even her job gave her little satisfaction.  Like thousands of others, she was now working from home, staring at a screen all day, with only the occasional tinny ‘phone call breaking the room’s sterile silence.

Although she telephoned Maisie every evening, her feelings were mixed when she rang off. She was truly glad Maisie was happy but deep down in her darkest thoughts an imp prodded her with jealous fingers, ‘she doesn’t miss you a bit,’ it said. It also plagued her with thoughts about Kate. ‘Maybe your sister’s life was not as perfect as you thought. Maybe she had always wanted a little girl like Maisie and now she has one.’  Sue did her best to ignore that imp and during the day she succeeded but at night her dreams turned into nightmares. 

Outside, April taunted the incarcerated by turning spring into summer.  Sunny days followed sunny days until Sue could bear it no longer. Throwing a coat over her melancholy she decided to go for a walk. One hour she was allowed and one hour she would take.

As soon as she stepped outside she felt her spirits lift and by the time she reached the park she was almost happy.  A breeze, soft as baby’s breath, soothed her skin and when she saw bare branches being clothed by blossom she remembered that life was worth living.  After all, her mother was well, she still had a job and Maisie was happy. There were lots worse off and she felt ashamed of her misery, the shreds of which were now being blown away by the warm spring wind.

She turned her face up to the sky amazed by its brilliance. Emptied of droning planes, it was so quiet.  And so blue, pre-plague its colour had never been this intense.  There was also birdsong where before there’d been the grinding of gears. The air smelled sweeter too.  Maybe this was the upside of the virus. Maybe this was what the planet had been pleading for - a breathing space.

Suddenly, something hard smashed into her and she fell to the ground, her face a rictus of agony. Hot blood poured from her nose and into her mouth threatening to choke her. Its cloying taste sickened her and she started to retch.

‘Are you all right?’

Strong hands pulled her upright and held her steady. Through eyes blurred by pain she saw a man’s face, close to her own, and she gasped in horror.

Immediately he stepped back and held up his hands.

‘It’s OK. I’m not contagious.’ He shrugged. ‘I couldn’t leave you lying on the ground. You walked into that thing with a hell of a thwack.’

‘I did what?’  She followed his gaze and saw a lamp-post smeared with her blood. Instantly, her pain was forgotten as shame took its place. ‘Oh, my Lord…..’

‘I saw you walking straight towards it but was too late. You’d better get home. Do you live far away?’

‘Not far,’ she mumbled.

‘Okay. Well I think I’d better follow you to make sure you make it. Don’t worry, I’m not a stalker.’

As she turned towards home, she was conscious of him keeping pace with her. She thought of her rat’s tails and bloody face. ‘I must look a wreck! How could I have been so stupid?’

After that, she saw him often in the park. Usually, they just smiled and waved but sometimes, at a safe distance, they walked side by side and chatted.  She learned his name was Terry and also discovered that she liked him and that every time they met, that feeling grew. She wondered if he was married and caught herself searching his hand for the glint of gold. When alone, she thought of him often, remembering the slant of his smile, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he laughed and the sound of his voice.  Sometimes she caught him looking at her and wondered if he felt the same. 

As the weeks passed she learned more. Terry was also a widower with a young son called Joe and that he did feel the same way.  Whenever they parted, she thought of the old wartime song…We’ll meet again….’ It seemed to fit somehow.

Months went by and at last, her deepest wish was granted.  Scientists, slaving away unseen, discovered an antidote and Coronavirus slunk back into its lair. Maisie returned and Sue married her man in the park. They bought a house in the suburbs where they raised their family and began the long sweet journey towards a gentle death.

***

My story should have ended there for I am sure you will have realised that I am Sue. But as is so often the case, when you think you have everything, it’s snatched away.

 Mankind has a short memory and greed is a powerful tool, the pillage of the planet continued and the virus came back. Not the same but even more deadly, with an estimated mortality rate of 98%

This morning, Terry died and the stink of death is everywhere. All communication is down so I can’t contact Maisie. She was visiting her Aunt Kate but I doubt if Cornwall will save her this time.

While I still have strength, I will post my story in a bottle, for there will be survivors and maybe they will take notice of its message.

MOTHER NATURE IS A JEALOUS MISTRESS. SHE NURTURES THE PLANET AND CARES NOT FOR MANKIND.

Copyright Janet Baldey