fiction

Friday Flash Fiction – Staying Alert

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 25 Comments

Vivienne held the phone away from her ear, she was tiring of her daughter’s pontifications.
‘Yes Julia, I am staying alert, but the Prime Minister’s waffle was totally confusing, not just to me.’
‘All you have to do Mother is carry on the same, all over seventies still have to stay at home. You can go for a walk, there is no other reason for you to go out; James is organising your shopping and all your little clubs are closed.’
Vivienne gritted her teeth, Julia’s mother-in-law was a magistrate and chairwoman of something important, she didn’t go to ‘little clubs’. She tried to veer the conversation in another direction, though it was hard to talk about anything except The Virus these days.
‘So what do you think about the school business?’
‘Ridiculous, we’re keeping Jason and Jacintha at home, they are doing really well with the home schooling.’
‘Have they learnt to write letters? I haven’t had a thank you for their birthday presents yet.’
‘They have been busy with creative writing, such imaginations; they claim to have found a family of elves in the garden… got to go, I’ve got a conference call coming in.’

96276355_558921511482769_592639146783145984_n

Vivienne’s hand was shaking as she put down her phone. She imagined Julia’s reaction if she told her she had seen a tiny elf in her garden. Of course it must have been her imagination; too much isolation, too much time spent in the garden, though one could never spend too much time outside, especially with James clumping around indoors. But she did credit her son with putting her on Instagram, it was amazing that her new smart phone took such good photographs. Her pictures of flowers were getting quite a few Likes and she was appreciating the finer details of the blooms that she had not noticed before. That’s how she had seen him first, in a photo; pansies have faces, but this was no flower face smiling at her. She scrolled through the pictures she would certainly not put on Instagram. A little green arm, a pointy shoe poking out from the leaves. A six inch elf dressed in green was obviously not real, a trick of the light in the verdant foliage. Vivienne chuckled to herself; if he had been dressed in red and white stripes, like those strange little people the twins were obsessed with putting on shelves at Christmas, then she would have known she was not dreaming.

18
Without thinking she tiptoed to the wild corner of the garden, her haven created for butterflies and bees, not mythical creatures. A noise startled her and the dreadful cat from next door shot out from under a bush, across the lawn and up onto the fence. She felt a stab of fear, birds were not the only creatures in danger from the cat, she tried to dismiss the image of thin green legs dangling out of the cat’s mouth.
For goodness sake Viv, pull yourself together, if James and Julia knew what was going on in your mind they would have you in a care home full of Covid cases.
If she knelt down in the soft grass James would assume she was taking photographs, not looking for an elf. She must keep perfectly still. How quiet it was, no planes or traffic in the distance. The sun was on her back, her face in the shade, that’s how she knew it was not the sun in her eyes. There he was, standing boldly smiling up at her, perhaps knowing he was safe from the cat while she was there. Dressed in green, his face a chalky white in contrast to his rosebud lips and pink cheeks. She didn’t dare move, nor would it be right to let her mobile phone come between them, scaring him or intruding on this special moment. Now he was laughing, was there a tiny sound or was it mirth in his expression? No wonder, she must look like an ugly ogre to him with his tiny perfect features…
‘Mother, Motherrr, where are you, someone on the house phone for you…’
The tiny creature’s face flashed with fear and with a sad wave he slipped back into the undergrowth.

blogger-recognition-2019

Friday Flash Fiction – Dreaming of Ikea

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 5 Comments

James peered unseeing at his computer screen. How had he come to be given this impossible task; was his boss impressed by his organising of the company into working from home or had the new boy in town been given the job nobody else wanted? No one knew when or how the lockdown should be eased and whatever the Prime Minister said on Sunday, staff at MPJ could not just go back to work as normal. The open plan offices and hot desking at the big company were not suited to a pandemic. The simplest answer was to keep everybody at home, the alternatives to bring in a quarter of the staff or half the staff on shifts round the clock. There would still need to be a complex arrangement of work practices for every part of the building. James chuckled, imagining himself with a gigantic roll of yellow tape marking spaced out squares like the little grocers round the corner.
Then there would be the lists; who could work well at home, who needed to be in the professional environs of the impressive MPJ building? Cassie in her peaceful little home with only the geckos to disturb her was hoping to stay put. Those with young children or doing home schooling would surely be glad to get back, but couldn’t until schools were open again. James himself was more than happy to go back and his mother would be very happy for him to go back. If business in general got moving again he could carry on looking for his post divorce flat.
He pictured Cassie coming round to view his new place. From what he could see on Facetime her home looked delightfully haphazard and she herself described it as a mix of her late aunt’s furniture and Ikea. They could both cycle to Ikea and she could help him choose some unmiddleage, unsensible furniture and fittings. His ex wife had been proud of the fact that she had never set foot in Ikea; meatballs, mashed potato and refillable coffee cups would not be her idea of a meal out. Cassie would probably think it a good laugh and not be offended that he couldn’t afford a more sophisticated date. Not that it would be a date, they were just friends after all.
As if she had read his thoughts James’ computer pinged into life. Cassie was calling him on Facetime, she was early.

DSCN0717
‘Good timing Cass, I need a break, you won’t believe what I am supposed to be doing.’
‘James, haven’t you heard? Two deaths from work, one of them the boss’s daughter.’
He tried to take in what she was saying. ‘How, what happened?’
‘Covid of course.’
‘But we haven’t even heard anyone from MPJ was ill.’
‘I think both families were keeping it quiet, it hasn’t been officially announced, one of the girls in my office called me. It really hits home, this is real James.’
It didn’t feel real to James. He didn’t know the boss had a daughter and Cassie hadn’t said who the other person was. But then it came to him that if it was someone from her department could she get it…’
‘Cassie, don’t worry, they must have caught it elsewhere, you would have it by now if… we’ve been off work for seven weeks.’
Her face cracked into the familiar smile. ‘I know, despite the figures, the hundreds dying each day, over thirty one thousand already dead and now close to us, but I still don’t think it could possibly happen to me.’
James laughed, glad to be back on lighter ground. ‘Same here and it won’t.’
‘You didn’t mind me calling early, interrupting work, I just wanted someone to talk to, it’s the first time I have felt alone since all this started. The girl that called me was just being polite as I’m their supervisor; there’s a little group of them, been there years; they’re all going to Zoom tonight over a glass of wine, shed lots of tears for their friend…’
‘I’m in the same boat, new boy who hasn’t got any friends yet.’
Cassie smiled again, a smile that always lit up the computer screen.
‘You know what James, it sounds awful and I’m not one to get excited about going out shopping, but I just have this sudden longing to go to Ikea and wander round their make believe world, eat a plateful of comforting meatballs and mashed potato.’

Friday Flash Fiction 636 – Bicycle

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 6 Comments

Cassie logged off her computer with relief, another work week at an end. She rotated her shoulders and stretched her back, longing to get out on her bike; she smiled to herself, it was like being a child again, out on your bike when you have done your homework and chores.

DSCN7250
It wasn’t quite the freedom of childhood, she mused as she pedalled and picked up speed. The roads were quieter, but there was the added hazard of pedestrians suddenly darting across the road to avoid other walkers. Quiet lanes and cycle paths were busier than they used to be and passing other cyclists or overtaking while keeping a distance was awkward. She wondered where James rode, she had never spotted him among the other cyclists out and about. Perhaps they wouldn’t even recognise each other in their safety helmets.
Cassie braked suddenly as a child wobbled off its scooter onto the road in front of her. The seemingly unaccompanied child lay sprawled near the gutter with no sign of getting up. She glanced back up the road; the parents were chatting across a garden wall to someone standing at their front door, two more children were clambering on the wall. No one in the family had noticed anything amiss, if indeed this child of indeterminate sex and age actually belonged to them. What to do now? If Cassie helped it up she would be breaking the two metre rule of social distancing, but what if a car came speeding along? Delayed shock set in and the child suddenly started bawling. The parents looked up and came rushing along the pavement. Cassie’s relief was replaced by annoyance as they glared accusingly at her.
‘Lucky I managed to brake in time’ she stammered as she hopped back on her bike to distance herself.

DSCN8295
James laughed as she related the story to him later, seated at the computer, glass of wine in hand.
‘Not a relaxing ride then.’
‘No, I was really looking forward to blowing away the cobwebs, the week I’ve had. I almost wish we were back at the office, almost, not quite.’
‘I think I would opt for returning to the office, at least you are in your own home. I feel like an overgrown school boy.’
For a moment Cassie felt a twinge of jealousy, imagining James at work, joking and flirting with the ladies of his department, probably younger and more interesting than her. She dismissed those thoughts and tried to be sympathetic.
‘But it can’t be easy for your mother either if she’s used to living by herself.’
‘That was before lock down, how would she manage without me?’
Very well, thought Cassie. She was feeling more and more sympathy with the mother and irritation with James. Surely moving back home had not been his only option after the divorce.
‘Are you in your old bedroom?’
‘No, no, thank goodness, this is Mum and Dad’s retirement home, downsize, nice quiet little town.’
‘Quiet… that doesn’t sound like anywhere near here.’
James laughed. ‘I’m over the other side of the water, funny we don’t know where each other lives. Stuck over the other side of the water now, ferry hasn’t been running for weeks; I enjoyed that commute to work, bicycle on the boat.’
Cassie found herself feeling relieved. James was at a safe distance in more ways than one, at least while lock down continued. He would remain safely inside her computer screen, no decisions needed yet about whether to meet up. Those blue eyes could not lure her against her better judgement… into what she wasn’t sure…
‘So where did you grow up?’ she steered the conversation back onto safer ground, away from the present or his failed marriage. She sat back and sipped her wine, ready to enjoy one of his funny stories.

Friday Flash Fiction – Shopping Delivery

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 13 Comments

Tom turned into the quiet road and parked outside number nine. An old lady was standing in the front garden wielding a pair of secateurs, the only sign of life in the street. He wondered if he had the right address, there was a lot of shopping for one old lady living alone and how was she going to carry all those bags inside? Well, not his problem, Tom was just glad to have a job. What a lark, this coronavirus thing was a blessing in disguise. People assumed he had lost work because of the world wide pandemic, not because he was a loser who had never held down a job for more than a year or managed to float a business successfully. What he did have was a clean driver’s licence and enough muscles left to heft trays out of the van.

90956381_3046804642006450_6491822074103857152_n

‘Good afternoon.’ The woman stood firmly behind a large bush as if that would shield her from the virus.
Tom nodded as he pushed his barrow up the garden path.
‘Just ring the doorbell, my son will be down in a moment. I hope we have free range eggs this time.’
As Tom retreated to the front gate the door opened and a tall fortyish chap stepped out. Tom chuckled to himself, imagine being quarantined with your mother at that age, but he looked fit so surely he could get the shopping for her. The mother was still talking.
‘How many deliveries have you done today?’
‘This is my thirtieth’ he lied.
‘Oh wonderful, a true hero; not that I need a delivery, quite capable of doing my own shopping.’
‘Er hmm, well we have all had to change our routines Madam.’
‘How wide an area do you cover?’
‘The whole town… anyway I must…’
The son was hovering on the doorstep, obviously waiting for Tom to get back in his van and remove the threat of infection.

‘Mother, let the poor chap get on his way.’

11
James sighed, he supposed his mother’s only social life these days was shopping deliveries. She had practically raced to the front door when his Amazon parcel arrived, eager to wave and thank the bloke before he slipped out of the front gate and into his white van. Perhaps he should order some things on Amazon for her, just for the fun of getting parcels of her own, though he couldn’t think of anything she might want or need with a house full of books and CDs, a bedroom full of clothes and a bathroom full of toiletries. Maybe Cassie would have some ideas.
‘There’s enough shopping for a year, James.’
‘We might need it, I couldn’t get any more delivery slots, you’re not vulnerable enough.’
‘I am not vulnerable and you know I prefer to do my own shopping.’
‘We could order some things from Amazon, they never turn you down and you can get absolutely anything.’
‘I can’t think of anything I need.’
‘How about something fun for your birthday, as I can’t take you out for dinner or the theatre.’
‘James, you have never taken me out to dinner or the theatre on my birthday… or any other time.’
‘Erm, no, not when Dad was still alive.’
‘…and you were still married…’
‘Next year then, in the meantime you could take up a new interest.’
‘I have plenty of interests, or did until we all went into lockdown.’
‘Something you could do indoors, I could help you set up a vivarium for example.’
‘You may be forty four, but I can still see through you; the only one who wants a vivarium around here is you, but surely even Amazon can’t deliver geckos.’
Not for the first time James felt himself descending back into childhood, he had to get out of here, get his own place, but when were things ever going to return to normal? He envied Cassie her solitary life in her little house with the large vivarium; it sounded as if she had always been single, though she hadn’t really said. But she would laugh and sympathise with his predicament. Strange that neither of them knew where the other lived; perhaps it would spoil the on line nature of their friendship, put pressure on a perfect relationship. He looked at his watch, an hour till he could log off from work and log on for a Facetime chat with Cassie.

Friday Flash Fiction – Cassie

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 5 Comments

Cassie gazed at the motionless creature, in no hurry to catch his prey. For the first time she felt a pang of guilt; there was no escape for the crickets, who also sat motionless, enjoying the humid warmth of this new luxurious environment. They were blissfully unaware of their fate, no different from spring lambs gambolling in the fields waiting to be eaten by humans. She put aside her guilt and laughed to herself; with all restaurants closed because of the virus, would those lambs be saved from the abattoir? A joke to share later with James.
Suddenly the gecko moved, playing fair, only snatching the cricket when it jumped. It was the most eventful time of the day in the vivarium; the other gecko, realising what she was missing, was roused into action. Soon they would be resting after their lunch; life was simple and they were content, or she assumed they were. Since being imprisoned herself, Cassie wasn’t so sure, but at least the geckos knew nothing else.
Week four of quarantine, isolation, lockdown; whatever you liked to call it she knew she had no cause to complain about her lot compared with others. She understood the government’s reasoning now, still had her job, didn’t have to share her precious living space and had the luxury of a garden and a daily bike ride.

green gecko with reflection
Photo by Miri on Pexels.com

The garden was an unexpected blessing, mowing and weeding had revealed all sorts of plants springing up; it had been a jungle when she bought the house and her intention had been to have it all flattened once the work inside the house was finished. A pleasant patio with a few feature plants in pots no longer seemed a good idea. Her aunt would have been amazed at her sudden interest in gardening. She took photos of emerging plants on her phone then sent them to James so his mother could identify them; he wanted to make sure his mother’s mind was stimulated during her isolation, so she didn’t end up with dementia.

88173984_3287218324641268_5913722534078971904_o (1)
Later on, when she had logged off from work, Cassie sat with a cup of coffee, ready to Facetime James.
‘I’ve seen a robin in the garden, if my team at work could see me, getting excited about a bird…’
‘I can beat that,’ said James ‘I saw our robin having a bath, I couldn’t take a picture, if I opened the back door he would have flown away.’
‘I think I heard mine singing, but it sounded too strong for such a tiny bird… that’s one thing I’ll miss when we get back to normal, peace and quiet so you can hear nature.’

P1050184
That wouldn’t be all Cassie missed; would James still want to chat every day, every evening once he was free to get out of his mother’s house and get a place of his own, back to work, going out. Would they meet up? She wasn’t even sure she wanted to meet up for real. Her iPad screen was like a vivarium and James her pet man, all the fun of flirting and chatting without the pitfalls of a relationship, having a chap getting his feet under your table and not going. Would she tell him about Giles, he had not told her anything about the divorced wife, not that there was anything much to tell about Giles, no drama, mostly sheer boredom. Perhaps Giles’ greatest contribution to her life had been to unknowingly encourage her to go for promotion; had he realised she had opted for the transfer as a tactful way of slipping out of his life, or rather slipping him out of her life…

Cassie sat back and drained her coffee mug, paying attention to what James was saying now. The way things were going with this dreadful Covid 19, it would be a while before anyone got back to normal and she didn’t really mind.

Silly Saturday – Paddington Pangolin

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 5 Comments

Police are searching for a pangolin believed to have entered the UK illegally. They have appealed for information as to the whereabouts of Penny Peters, head of Pangolin Preservation Project. She is alleged to have smuggled the pangolin in her hand luggage on the last flight back to Britain. Her parents, Polly and Peter Peters, speaking from their home in Surrey, denied their daughter was involved in any sort of crime.
‘Penny loved her job teaching English as a second language and she loves pangolins, but when this virus business started we urged her to get the next flight out. She insisted she couldn’t abandon her pupils or pangolins.’

OIP[2]

Latest Update

Our reporter tracked Penny Peters down to a secret location and she agreed to an exclusive interview.
‘Yes I do know where Paddington Pangolin is, but he will never be safe until he is proved innocent.’
‘What is he accused of?’
At this point Ms Peters broke down in tears.
‘Sorry, sorry, it’s all been so stressful… let me start at the beginning. I rescued him from a wet market, I can’t reveal where for fear of reprisals. I smuggled him out on the last flight out to Heathrow. Then we jumped on the Heathrow Express; I was surprised how easy it all was. But when we arrived at Paddington Railway Station we were surrounded by an angry mob accusing this poor innocent pangolin of starting Corvid19. He fled in panic and I was terrified for his safety. I spent days searching the streets of London for him, wondering if he would find enough ants. Finally I found him in St. James’ Park, he had wanted to see The Queen, but she had already left Buckingham Palace to isolate at Windsor Castle.’
‘That is an amazing story, but surely the general public will only believe you if they actually see Paddington Pangolin?’

Latest Latest Update

Penny Peters agreed to be filmed with Paddington Pangolin on condition their whereabouts is never revealed and that we show the film on national news to expose the plight of pangolins. Tune into the ten o’clock news…

Friday Flash Fiction – Vivarium

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 7 Comments

Vivienne stood in her little back garden taking in the stillness, a feeling of holiday bliss swept over her; perhaps it was the wonderful sunny weather and strange atmosphere of this unique time. If she had to be imprisoned she was grateful to be at home and very thankful that her bossy daughter had not persuaded her to downsize after Malcomb’s death and move into one of those dreadful McCarthy and Stone flats.
After two years she now had the house just as she wanted, but that didn’t alter the fact that her independence had been swept from under her feet, transformed overnight by Boris Johnson from a fighting fit recycled teenager into a vulnerable over seventy. As if that wasn’t bad enough, her son had moved back in ‘for a week’ after his divorce, just in time to find himself locked in, locked down, or whatever they called it. Left to her own devices she would have sneaked out, but James was on guard, no doubt on instructions from his sister.

59360587_2646522172044223_2329298740445184000_o
Of course she had seen it coming, the divorce; she didn’t dislike her daughter-in-law, there was little about her to dislike or like, James deserved so much more. She never said any of this to him, just pretended to be surprised and she was surprised that he had managed to come out of it with nothing except his bicycle and computer.
Vivienne relished the peace of the garden. It was just her luck that James’ company was letting everyone work from home, so now her ‘ancient’ computer had been relegated to the dining room and inconveniently updated to Windows 10. She only went on line to be in the Facebook groups for her crafts, book club and bridge society.
Her friends sympathised with the loss of her sewing room as James commandeered it for his bedroom, but pointed out she had gained someone to do the shopping and a free handyman. What they actually meant was she was lucky to have a son who they all thought utterly charming, with a great sense of humour that would brighten up the dreary days ahead.

45477078_2012446678822505_8757027339713380352_n
Vivienne heard the back door open and realised her moments of solitude were over, James was back from his daily bike ride.
‘Hey Mother, talking to the plants again?’
‘You don’t need to worry until they answer back.’
‘I’ll just put the Tesco order on line then I’ll get us something nice for lunch, I popped into the bakers.’
Vivienne gritted her teeth, wondering which items she didn’t want would arrive on the Tesco van this week. At least he was keeping the bakers going, it would be awful for them to close and the high street lose their lovely coffee shop.
‘Look at this, Cassie sent a picture.’
He marched down the path with his mobile phone aloft and her curiosity was aroused. He kept mentioning Cassie, who he had met in the queue for the chemist and turned out to also work for MPJ. James spent a lot of time chatting to her on the computer, Zoomtime, Scope or whatever it was when you could see the other person. Vivienne wondered what she looked like, but in the bright outdoor light she could make out nothing on the tiny screen of his phone.
‘Is that her?’
‘No, it’s a picture of her vivarium, remember I always wanted one.’
‘I don’t even know what a vivarium is.’
‘A complete environment in a glass tank, in Cassie’s case a huge tank. You keep reptiles in it.’
‘I certainly haven’t forgotten that tarantula you had. What does Cassie keep in hers?’
‘Lizards, fascinating.’
‘You and Jane never had any pets.’ Or any babies, she refrained from mentioning the topic that was never spoken about; whether by choice or if not, whose fault it was. ‘You could have had a vivarium…’
James just smiled, they both new Jane would not have liked her pristine lounge taken over by a tank full of scenery from a David Attenborough documentary.
‘So now you have a girlfriend who loves lizards.’
‘Mother, she’s not a girlfriend, a friend, on her own, glad to have someone to chat to about work, but mostly not about work. You would like her, great sense of humour and loves cycling.’
Vivienne smiled. ‘So if this virus business is ever over, you could meet up with her for bike rides and talk about lizards…?’

Friday Flash Fiction 626 – Working From Home

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 13 Comments

Today’s tale follows on from Sunday’s short story.

https://tidalscribe.wordpress.com/2020/03/29/sunday-short-story-720-the-queue/

Working from home was not quite how Cassie had imagined. Working on her own was fine, no interruptions, but conference calls with colleagues, from work or overseas, took much longer than expected. She had reckoned without the domestic factors.

They’re sharing a table with home schooling children, they have to be joking, haven’t they got grandparents to dump them with?
‘Sorry Cassie, isn’t it a nightmare, can’t leave them with Mum, she’s just had chemo.’
Cassie looked at the squabbling pair who kept looming into view; surely these were not the two adorable angels that they heard so much about from Gabbie in the office. At least she couldn’t get out of work now; Gabbie was usually more out of the office than in, taking time off every time one of the little darlings had a sniffle.
‘Did you email Singapore Gabbie?’
‘Singapore, oh my god, I was just about to when Felicity fell down the stairs.’

49301962_2279278039016172_484935089419976704_n

It was quite entertaining though, who would have imagined Gavin would choose such décor? What room was he actually working in, would it be rude to ask?
A huge black hairy face filled the computer screen.
‘Down Hugo. Sorry Cassie, he’s usually out with the dog walker at this time of the day, he thinks it’s Christmas. Yes I’ll take you out in a moment, Hugo that is, not you Cassie… Did Gabbie email Singapore? It’s chaos at her place.’

‘Good morning Cassie, meet Mr. Snuggles.’
A bundle of fur with an evil face sat on John’s lap.
‘If we get cut off, blame the cat.’
They got cut off.

She did not even recognise the woman on the three way conference call and what on earth was that top she was wearing or was it a …
‘Good morning, is Singapore sorted yet, did that email go, hope you don’t mind the baby… isn’t this working from home great, no pumping and expressing.’

Cassie needed a coffee, but she ought to touch base with the boss first.
‘Yes Mr. Fenton, no, I’m going to email Singapore right now, it’s not easy getting everyone into this working from home routine.’
A slender brown arm appeared at the side of her screen and placed a bone china cup and saucer on Mr. Fenton’s mahogany desk, followed by a delicate tea plate with two chocolate biscuits. Who was that woman? Unlikely to be the insipid plump wife he had brought to the Christmas dinner and dance.

DSCN8295

The one person she had not linked up with, had any contact with, was the chap from the queue at the chemist. She had looked him up as soon as she got home; a completely different department, which was good from a professional versus socialising point of view. Would he contact her, what were the rules of dating for the over forties, not that they were dating… had he thought better of it, wrongly assuming she could be desperately seeking a responsible man to impregnate her before it was too late. This morning’s glimpses into the home life of others had confirmed she had no desire for a baby, dog, or cat… but supposing he had children of his own, they knew nothing about each other…
Her computer pinged, a new email, from him.
‘Coffee break time, do you want to Zoom or Facetime?’
Five minutes later Cassie was laughing; the blue eyes were just as penetrating on the screen with crinkle lines evidence that he laughed a lot and could make her laugh as he described his morning.
‘Mummy, Mummy, Felix has done a poo on the carpet – I didn’t know if Felix was a cat or a brat…. Oh Cassie, sorry, do you have children or pets…’
‘No way, well only a vivarium…’

 

Sunday Short Story 720 – The Queue

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 15 Comments

The ringing startled Cassie, nobody ever called her on the landline, few people called her mobile either. She was tempted to ignore it, but the sound penetrated the calm of her little house.
‘Hello Dear, it’s Doris.’
Cassie was slow to react.
‘Doris next door.’
‘Oh, of course…’
In a rare moment of neighbourliness, when Cassie moved in a year ago, she had given the old lady next door her number, just in case…
‘You said to call if there was an emergency.’
Had she really said that? Cassie pictured Doris lying on the floor with a broken hip. That would be the end of her pleasant Day One working from home.
‘Yes, yes of course, what happened?’
‘Nothing yet, but I can’t get out to collect my prescriptions. Boris said I had to stay indoors with my lungs.’
‘Well we all do…’
‘Yes, but you’re not vulnerable dear, you could cycle down to the chemist.’
Relief that she would not have to apply first aid lifted Cassie’s spirits, she brightened her voice to what she hoped was a caring tone.
‘Of course, I’m going out anyway for my one permitted exercise of the day.’

P1060501

Self isolation was what Cassie practised most of the time, why she had moved to that quiet road, but neither did she want to be stuck indoors all the time. As she turned her bike into the high street, what looked like a new Antony Gormley art installation filled the pavement outside several shops. Suddenly every figure moved two paces, perhaps it was a flash mob; she waited for them to break into song and dance. She wheeled her bike a few inches towards a woman now rooted firmly to the spot. The woman backed away a few inches.
‘Excuse me, what’s going on?’
‘Queue for the chemist, one out, one in.’
‘Oh god, how long have you been here?’
‘Thirty minutes, you’d better get to the end of the queue.’
Cassie padlocked her bike and took up position outside the closed card and gift shop. The woman six feet in front of her turned and smiled. Cassie groaned inwardly, not one of those who liked to chat…
‘Nice day for it, I was here yesterday, but I don’t mind standing out in the sunshine; it’s for my dad, didn’t have all his meds yesterday. He’s got OCD, or is it COPD and diabetes, you wouldn’t believe how many different tablets he takes… he had a funny turn yesterday and I was worried it was the Coronavirus, but he didn’t have a temperature, at least I don’t think he did, we couldn’t find a thermometer…’
‘Oh well it must be…’
Cassie glanced up ahead, four more shops before she was even near the chemist. She glanced behind and noted three more people hovering. One chap looked vaguely familiar.
‘Is this the queue for…
‘The chemist.’
‘Ahh, not how I planned to spend my first day working from home.’
‘Me neither, it’s not for me, the old lady next door.’

‘Same here, shoot me if I ever end up collecting a bag of medicines every week.’
Cassie laughed, someone with the same sense of humour. ‘Let’s hope we have nice neighbours if we get like that.’
‘Well the old lady isn’t exactly a neighbour, it’s my mother, I live with her.’
Oh no, a chap in his forties who still lived with his mother, not what she needed. Well standing two yards away from a bloke hardly rated as being chatted up, though even at that distance she had noted his piercing blue eyes. She realised he was still talking.
‘I know, sounds a bit sad, you get divorced and instead of freedom your sister expects you to take your turn at responsibility, it didn’t help getting transferred here… speaking of which, I’m sure you look familiar, you don’t work for MPJ as well do you?’
She could say no, but then if she bumped into him at work… if they ever went back to work, how long was this virus thing going to last, would her job even survive. He was still talking.
‘So we can hardly go out for a drink with everything closed, but it might get lonely working at home, perhaps we could link up on line.’
‘Okay, I’m Cassie…

Silly Saturday – Caring for Criminals in Corona Crisis

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 20 Comments

Whether you are a mugger, pick pocket or burglar this current pandemic is bad news. With crowds a thing of the past the pick pocket stands no chance of earning a living, while the mugger fairs little better with the streets nearly empty. As shoppers are being requested to use their cards instead of cash, those few people out will probably not be carrying cash. But spare a thought for the burglar; everyone is confined to home, not an empty house to be found. The chancellor has offered no help at all to career criminals, who through no fault of their own find themselves without an income.

P1040305

There is a ray of hope with an increase in cyber crime; you can make phone calls and send emails claiming to be from Inland Revenue or Social Security, but once you have persuaded some naïve person to part with all their personal details you need to know what to do with them. Most criminals are not clever enough to hack into their own bank accounts, let alone anyone else’s.

So for those who prefer the hands on approach here is how to keep yourself safe. Maintain a low profile, you don’t want to be arrested just for being outside before you have even had a chance to steal. If you are going to mug or pick pocket you must wear gloves and a suitable mask, your usual robber mask will not offer the correct protection. If your victim coughs move away quickly and abandon the attempt. Once you have spotted a suitable victim there is no time to waste, with everyone else keeping six feet away from each other your movements are bound to attract attention. This could be the right time to take on an apprentice, your young nimble son or daughter; if you don’t want to risk the health of you own child you could borrow the offspring of your partner or neighbour. With schools closed, anybody would be glad for someone to take their child out for the permitted exercise period.

P1050622

If your modus operandi is armed hold ups, observe the professional code and do not cough or spit at your target; you must adhere to the new social rules and not risk the health of an honest shopkeeper, stick to using your gun or knife. Patience will also be required. Most shops now expect shoppers to queue up outside, six feet apart from each other; to push in will draw attention to yourself and it need hardly be emphasised that you should keep your weapon hidden while you are in the queue. However, looking on the bright side, your getaway will be easy. No one is going to come within two yards of you, let alone try to be a hero and tackle you.

53215287_361949637984393_2798061194936582144_n
Burglars should take with them cleansing sprays and gloves. If you manage to sneak in an unlocked door or open window, while householders are absorbed watching television or on the internet, well done. Once inside, avoid touching any surfaces; if you can’t find money and valuables easily do not reveal your presence to the residents; it will be hard to keep a safe distance while demanding overenthusiastically where they keep their jewellery.

 

Good luck everybody, we do not know how long this is going to last, but the golden rule is the same as ever; avoid getting caught, you will not be safe from the coronavirus in gaol.