The Locked Room

All shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.

On impulse she sends him a text, ‘Strange times eh?’ Two minutes later, Clough replies: ‘Im bulk buying frankfurters. Its a wurst case scenario.’ Judy sends back an eye-roll emoji but she does feel very slightly better.

The Saltmarsh is coming to life, like a photograph developing, the grasses turning from grey to brown to green, the birds ascending from the reedbeds to wheel across the rosy sky. Dawn.

the back of Kate’s latest school newsletter Ruth starts a list. Cat food Wine Priorities.

How did your mum seem when you spoke to her last?’ asks Judy. Tanya notes that she’s swapped ‘mother’ for ‘mum’, the sort of detail Tanya always forgets.

Ruth. ‘I don’t suppose many eleven-year-olds are republicans,’ says Nelson. ‘That’s what’s wrong with this country,’ says Ruth, only half joking.

They both laugh so loudly that the café owner, who is stacking chairs in a passive-aggressive manner, looks over in alarm.

I’d love to have a coffee,’ says Ruth. But what she really wants is a large slice of cake.

The air is so sweet and pure that it almost takes her breath away. It's as if nature is conspiring to make lockdown a less terrifying experience. Ruth has already noticed herself becoming interested in the tracks left by the foxes and watching the progression of the blossom on her tree. She leaves food out for the birds and has secretly named a crow Corbym.

The churches are all closed. She was surprised how shocked she'd been to hear this news. Judy might be a lapsed Catholic, but she'd always assumed that, all her life, mass would be carrying on somewhere. Thinking of the silent churches, the unconsumed communion wafers, the empty chalices, makes her feel strangely panicky.

There are no commuters, no children jostling for school buses, no taxis, no old men in hats driving in the centre of the road. It should feel like heaven but, as Nelson drives through the old city gates, he's reminded of science fiction films where towns have been taken over by lizard people or filled with replicants. If this is the future, he doesn't like it.

It's a locked room mystery,' says Tony. 'Like in the books.' 'Nothing,' says Nelson, 'is like it is in the books.

That seems very unfair,’ says Ruth. ‘There’s nothing fair about this life or the next,’ says Janet. She’s another lapsed Catholic, Ruth remembers. Like Nelson. And Cathbad too, come to think of it.

Cheers,’ says Zoe. The light is still on, making the whole scene feel unreal somehow, as if they are on stage. ‘Cheers,’ says Ruth. Pets, technology, alcohol and neighbours.

May the gods keep this child perfect and let anything that is negative stay far beyond her world.

Tony always keeps up a steady flow of chat, unless specifically requested to shut up. It’s like wading in his stream of consciousness.

dead,’ says Ted. There’s a service of this name every year, to remember the bodies buried in unmarked graves.

Finding God seemed to mean that her parents lost touch with everything else.

He said not ‘Thou shalt not be tempested, thou shalt not be travailed, thou shalt not be diseased’, but he said, ‘Thou shalt not be overcome.