It all started in February, as I recall. Gradually entering the sub-concious that “China flue” as the Donald calls it, was something we should be concerned about, and little by little we all started to realise that something was coming down the track and we should all “be very afraid”.

Early conversations with Sandie’s Mum heard us saying that you can go to Tesco this week, and maybe next, but at some point we will say you cannot go – and that day arrived. We didn’t want to go either so, along with a large percentage of the population, we resorted to delivery services from whichever supermarket bought or bribed our loyalty in the past, or whichever one, any one, that offered us a delivery slot. In common with many in the country, we battled through loo roll shortages, we set the alarm for midnight, and blearily focussed on the iPad trying to second guess or game the supermarket computer just to get that flaming slot,

Joan was stoic – “I know I can do two weeks lockeddown, I think I can do three, but I can’t do four”. Twenty or so weeks later… We tried to encourage her to have a trip out, we told her it would be safe, but she declined in a variation of “Stockholm Syndrome”, she was in love with her virus captor and any trip out would be disloyal, even unfaithful. so she battled on. We have been seeing her a couple of times a week, taking groceries in as needed, or as delivered. Joan has changed our approach to the virus as we realised that we would have to shield her, apart from the vulnerability that we might feel in view of our ages. The result of this is that apart from the local agricultural merchants we don’t go out. Even getting dog food now involves a phone call and a payment and a later pick-up.