you want before all this rubbish? You’re not a child any more. It’s time for you to grow up and get on.’
It’s strange but I don’t even need to speak to my mum to know what she would say and she would be right. She’s said enough before. I was too busy to hear her or take any notice. Too busy running away. Running away from a history of medical stuff, hospital visits, all of which I wanted to draw a veil over, block out. It was like I was trying to prove something to myself: I can party; this disease isn’t going to define me.
There’s an irony to the fact that it’s taken a pandemic and a random friendship with someone I’ve never met, to make me stop and think about things. Make me listen to sense. From today on, I am going to be different. No more Jack the joker, the charming barman who everyone likes but no one really respects.
I check my phone. Last night I sent a desperate text to Sophia, trying to explain that I hadn’t meant for it to come out like that. Trying to tell her that I haven’t seen Laura for a year. I’ve been trying to get her to agree to a divorce. The message shows as still unread.
As I’m staring blankly at the screen, a reminder pings up. I’m due to phone Mavis at eleven-thirty. I’m just about on time. I dial her number.
‘Mavis?’
‘Hello, Jack, how nice to hear from you. How’s tricks?’
‘Not too bad, bit tired today after a late night.’
‘Oh dear, been partying again have you?’
‘Yes something like that.’ I smile in spite of my muzzy head. ‘And how are you?’
‘Good thanks; I’ve been up and had my exercise round the estate. Popped into Newsie to get my fresh bread. Early on a Sunday, there’s hardly anyone around but I wore my mask just to be sure.’
‘Organised as ever!’ I comment.
‘Ooh yes I can’t bear hanging around in the morning. Wastes the day! I bumped into Bertie and had a socially distanced chat. I’m worried about him though,’ she confides.
‘What was up?’
‘He just seems quiet. I think this lockdown’s getting to him.’
‘I can imagine.’ Although I can’t really, as it must be especially awful for Bertie – he’s lost his wife; his life partner of over half a century. ‘I suppose at least he gets out for his walk once a day.’
‘I know, but it’s lonely for him after Elsie died. He hasn’t even got Cooper to walk any more.’
‘Cooper?’
‘His little Jack Russell. He loved that dog, he went everywhere with him but he died a couple of years ago. He was a good age though – sixteen.’
‘Yes I remember now; I’d forgotten his name. That’s a pretty good innings. But it’s a shame – having a dog at a time like this would give Bertie some company and he could meet people, well, at a distance anyway.’
‘Yes it’s important, gives you someone to talk to. My budgie Sunny and I have whole conversations about all sorts of things. He chats with me all day and understands everything I say. Can’t get him to be quiet during the church service though.’
‘You take him to church?’ I must admit I’m struggling not to laugh at this image.
‘No I have an online service every Sunday.’
‘And how was it today?’
‘Very uplifting. It’s not the same as being in the actual church of course, but the vicars share out the prayers and service from their homes and gardens. Makes it feel like having a family for me.’
‘That’s so nice.’
‘Yes, Rev Bates has asked me to do a reading next week.’
‘Go you!’
‘I know, but to tell you the truth, Jack, I’m not sure how to record myself on my iPad. I’m still scared of it to be honest.’
‘That’s okay. I’ll help you by telling you how to do it. It’s quite simple really. Or if you find it too difficult, I’m sure Sophia will record it for you. She could stand in the courtyard at a distance and film outside.’
‘What a lovely idea, Jack. Sophia is a dear, I’m sure she would do that. Why didn’t I think of it?’
‘Well that’s why it’s good to run things past other people. It can help.’
‘You’re so right, dear; problems often seem insurmountable on one’s own. That’s what today’s sermon was about. Helping one another and how this crisis has made people realise what is important to them. Friendship and companionship rather than money and things