Going out for a little while

Nos amis britanniques ont un protocole de soin anti-covid : l'amour et le jardinage. Jugez plutôt!

"Going out for a little while, Symphony!" "

Reginald needs this daily breathing space, especially since lockdown sets the pace of their life and that of all their fellow citizens.

So, as usual, he puts on his overcoat (a raincoat right now because it's been raining for weeks) and goes out. First of all he walks out onto the terrace and from there contemplates what remains of his dear green Eden. The weather has seemed to be in harmony with the general mood since the Covid hit: gloomy. His garden made of groves, shrubs and flower beds, usually so carefully tended, has turned into a muddy, brownish pond and that pains him. But Reginald is philosophic. He shrugs his shoulders, tells himself that spring will come and turns around to cross the large main room of their elegant home and leaves, this time on the street side.

He will walk to the main square, hoping to meet friends or neighbors. He will talk about the weather, the pandemic, government measures and the economic crisis that will follow, with the hope of changing his mind a little. 

This morning, Symphony did not react to his "declaration of intent." Quite strange, he thought. His wife usually replies with a "don't forget to put on your mask, Reggie!" 

But today, nothing like that!!!

Puzzling. When she gives him this recommendation every day that God gives, it annoys him a little. " Yes, of course!” he says to himself, without trying to express his irritation out loud because, in the bottom of his heart, he knows that it is a sign of worry, a mark of attention and therefore a proof of love, one of those rituals of a long-married couple. Because he didn't get the usual chorus, he's confused. Is Symphony worried about something else, hasn't she heard his morning formula, does she love him a little less than before?

He eventually convinces himself that he has been attaching too much importance to small details for some time; the effect of inaction and confinement, no doubt about that.

The street is empty. As usual. People hardly ever go out. He hurries across Pond Green to reach the village square, with a sort of premonition in his mind, as if there was an odd mood floating in the rainy atmosphere of this early afternoon.

He sees the Harris’s huddled together near their big white Range Rover with a black roof and walks in their direction. Strangely enough, they recoil briefly when they see him.

“Hi Reginald! Percy said at last. “See, we're leaving town. We're gonna try to reach Lymington. With a little luck, if the wind is willing to blow in the right direction, we will take our Contessa to sail towards France. "

Reginald realizes that behind Percy, already sitting in the car next to the children, Nancy has tears in her eyes. "What's going on, my friend? "

Percy tells him about breaking news on TV, the most recent and terrible mutant virus coming from Scotland, emergency evacuations from the cities of Manchester and Birmingham...

Reginald is stunned. For weeks now, he and Symphony stopped watching the news.

“You should go too, Reggie. The village is almost empty already, you know! "

Reginald looks up to the sky, as if searching for the right answer to the advice his friend Perceval has just given him.

The first thought that occurs to him is to go and tell this story to Symphony. Sure, she'll show compassion towards the Harris’s. Nancy is a good friend of hers and Symphony loves people.

Reginald walks slowly home. He is worried; not because of what the Harris’s just told him. Reggie is concerned with the domestic climate that may arise from his own state of mind. Because he remains disturbed by the silence of Symphony an hour ago, he delays the moment to open the door and say "I’m back!"...

Raining. Walking. Questioning. What do we need to do? Should we go, we too? For Brittany, until then spared by the nasty virus for inexplicable reasons? They have a pretty little house there; they would be fine.

Yes, but… What about the garden? Who will fight against the remaining mud, as soon as the rain stops? Reginald, as he walks, mentally makes a list of the tools, seeds and fertilizers that he should absolutely have at his disposal when the time comes. "It should be Ok…" he concludes after his quick inventory of everything stored in the shed.

Here it is. He takes his key from the right pocket of the raincoat and opens the front door, perfectly painted in an English green, to make the Crawleys, famous owners of Downton Abbey, green... with envy.

"I’m back! "

Reginald hears Symphony calling out from the living room: "Did you think about putting on your mask, dear?" "

Reginald smiles, replies "yes, yes" with a tone of feigned weariness to let nothing show of his emotion and says to himself that, decidedly, nothing could justify not staying here, at home, with the woman who loves him and whom he loves.