DAY 3

Lyra tries not to laugh when the lady on the current affairs radio phone-in says that Joe Biden, U.S. Democratic presidential candidate’s entire strategy to engage with Latin American voters was to play 10-seconds of Despacito on his phone. It’s not funny, but kind of is.

Recently retired Todd quietly eases the shopping bags on Ena’s doorstep, knocks and briskly walks back down the path. He’s been volunteering his time wherever possible to stave off the boredom and existential sadness which waits for him indoors. On a weekly basis, he brings as many items from Ena’s shopping list as it is possible to carry, on foot and drops them outside. As he starts to leave, he hears the scratch of a key seeking the hole, then the creak of the door hinges. He knows what’s coming and stops. He’s seen it in her eyes, through the window; two black holes of loneliness. Ena tells him she’s lost two family members, including her husband since the start of lockdown and has seen nobody since April, pleads with him to stay just a little while. Over a cup of tea in her porch, they both admit they’d rather risk death than watch the days fade away alone.

 A Premier League manager is on the radio, complaining about the fitness struggle his players face after playing a game in Eastern Europe on Thursday, ahead of an away fixture on Sunday. 15-year old Fred shakes his head and says he doesn’t understand why the broadcasters have so much say in the schedules when it ruins the players this way. His dad, Neville has spent the last 48-hours in front of the TV, advocating Donald Trump’s policies and has been highly-irritable since the HGV company made him redundant. He says that if today’s players think they have it tough, they should try working 8-hours down the pits the same day as a game, like Jackie Milburn did for Newcastle. Fred doesn’t know what to say to that and goes on Facebook.