LOCKDOWN: Day 42

 The annual Mayday garden party had become a standing tradition in the Close. The close consisted of 6 houses occupied by mainly retired professional people. Maggie, Alice's neighbour was the only person still working. She was a critical care nurse at the infirmary and was the go to person for any wounds, illnesses or concerns about the mountain of medication that everyone else in the close relied on. This year, due to the 'plague', as it had been labelled by the neighbours, the party posed a problem.

Alice and Maggie were discussing the logistics, over the garden fence, of how it could be achieved without all of them being fined by the local constabulary for breaching the social contact rules.

'Well, the close is small enough for us to set up our own picnics in our own gardens and still be able to see each other and enjoy the day', said Maggie.

'How about setting up socially distanced tables in the road as we did for the Queen's Jubilee celebration', suggested Alice.

'That might work', responded Maggie, ' and we could hoick out the bunting that we used for it too'.

Alice ticked this off her list. Alice always had a list for logistical exercises – it was a throw back to her days as P.A. to the RAF commander.

'OK, food and drink?', said Maggie. 'We had better stick to making our own food and not do a bring and share, that way if anyone gets the dreaded lurgy they only have themselves to blame'.

'It may also prevent a repercussion of last year when Archie, John and Tony had a competition to see who could drink the most without falling over', grumbled Alice. 'At their age as well... It's just as well that Tony has no head for drink otherwise they would have carried on until they had all been admitted to the infirmary with alcoholic poisoning'.

'I doubt if my husband will try that again', said Maggie smugly, 'We had a free and frank exchange of views when he eventually sobered up about the damage done to the body by excess alcohol. I think the graphic description I gave him of alcoholic dementia and the oesophageal varices, cancer risks and faecal incontinence that accompanied it just about did the trick'.

'That could be why he grumbles about being married to a nurse', laughed Alice.

'No, it's because if he ever complains of feeling unwell I tell him to take an aspirin and get a grip. Luckily that seems to work', replied Maggie.

Archie appeared at the patio doors with the faithful Colin at his heels. Colin, the hybrid mutt, was still on probation after going AWOL and disgracing himself by being found curled up with his arch enemy, Erasmus, the huge black cat belonging to Miss Canning next door.

'What are you two plotting', he called across the garden to them.

'The annual Mayday garden party', replied Alice.

'I thought that had been postponed until we're all allowed to take responsibility for ourselves again', said Archie.

Alice and Maggie looked at each other with the cynical look that only women blessed with an opinionated husband can manage.

'Yes dear', they both responded in unison, and promptly started laughing. They were used to Archie's wrath at what he described as, “the governmental mismanagement”, of the pandemic, indeed they shared some of his opinions, but they were also aware that the situation was unprecedented and any decisions made by the government would be open to criticism.

'Never, cried Maggie, doing her impression of Bodicea – minus chariot and scourge. 'The British do not let a little thing like a plague prevent them from having a jolly good knees up!'.

'Excellent', responded Archie, and before he could launch into his impression of Winston Churchill threatening to, “fight them on the beaches”, Alice continued, 'we're going to do what we did for the Jubilee, darling, but with socially distanced tables and eat your own food and drink'.

'Righty ho', said Archie, a little disappointed that his Winston Churchill impression had been curtailed. 'Just tell me what you want done and I'll round up the troops'.

The day of the Mayday celebration dawned with the promise of warm shunshine and not a cloud in the sky. This was a nice change from the force 10 gales and mad dashes to shelter from the torrential rain, laden down with food and drink, that normally accompained a British bank holiday.

The men of the close had set out the tables in the street at the required 2 metres apart, though nobody had risked incurring the wrath of Archie and his wingman, Chris by producing a tape measure. Alice and Maggie had started putting clingfilm wrapped food on their respective tables and spotted Miss Canning from next door arranging her table with a classic afternoon tea assortment of small sandwiches, dainty cakes and scones with clotted cream, all to be served on her best tea service.

'Miss Canning', called Maggie, ' you have enough to feed an army there'.

'Erasmus does enjoy a little salmon and is quite partial to scones and cream. I couldn't possibly leave him out of the celebration, he would be so hurt', replied their redoubtable neighbour. Erasmus, perched on the garden fence, shot a scowl at Maggie and Alice and continued supervising the old lady.

Maggie and Alice exchanged smiles and continued loading down their tables with an assortment of rolls, chicken legs and pork pies.

John appeared carrying a huge tangled pile of bunting.

'What shall I do with this', he asked Alice and Maggie, who looked at each other, 'Do you want to tell him or shall I?', asked Maggie.

'Drape it round the edges of the tables please, John', said Alice supressing a need to laugh.

'It's in one single piece – I think', said John starting to untangle the pile.

'Well drape it from table to table then', suggested Maggie.

'Won't that make a mockery of the social distancing thingy', he replied.

'I don't think virus's travel via bunting, John. Supermarket trolleys, yes, but I'm not sure the research has been done on transfer of viral load via bunting', replied Maggie as she laid her table with plates and cutlery.

'oh, just bung it up somewhere', said Archie, appearing from the house with 4 bottles of wine and his shadow, Colin.

'That was going to be my suggestion', mumbled Maggie as she concentrated on laying her table.

Tony, Maggie's husband, stuck his head out of their living room window and shouted across, 'Shall I put the music on yet'.

'Yes!', chorused the assembled throng. The sound of 1940s big band music erupted into the close and Alice and Maggie couldn't help but start dancing – 2 metres apart.

So ended the 42^nd day.