It is still so strange to see empty restaurants when I go for my daily exercise. There is a restaurant opposite where on a Sunday we would see it filling up with families, full of cheerful cousins and glowing grandparents and children playing games. I used to grumble like mad wishing that they’d turn down the racket, tempted to shout from our window to quieten it down but now things have changed and I see it only as the pass-key to peace and happiness.
I’m beginning to feel like someone from a bygone era that shakes their fists and moans; why can’t things be as they once were? The thought of yesteryear remains close. Even on my walk, I started to imagine the time, when your grandfather was a boy, of pretty parasols, trams on the beachfront, donkey rides and candy floss.
I’m trying to be optimistic . I’m thinking that we needed this to happen to urge us to change our attitude. This vicious enemy is going to give the world a tilt into the right direction. Hopefully it will give us a balance that we were undoubtedly losing. Sadly though I still think we have a way to go before we all wake up.
The man in the tweed suit was again sitting on our stoop doing his crossword. I have a feeling that he’s found his regular spot for breakfast. He had clearly just completed a clue as he was busy scribbling something down with delight and laughing with satisfaction which sounded more like an old lift climbing a high building.
‘ Glad those bloody workmen have gone,’ he spoke deliberately like a snob.
It was true the builders had packed up. I hadn’t noticed. I had wondered why the streets were even quieter than yesterday. I was going to ask if he’d move so I could get into my house but I hesitated as I didn’t want to bother him. Unlike earlier in the week, I was able to look directly at his face which matched the colour of his grey knitted socks. He looked weary, poor soul, so I decided to continue my walk rather than bother him.
I went to the park for my daily walk. it was far emptier than any other day since the lockdown. The police nearly outnumbered the people out walking. They gave me a sense of reassurance. How stunning Hyde Park was this morning. We forget how beautiful our London parks can be. See a postcard for tourists of the Italian Gardens and you, think ‘ where’s that?’ And you suddenly realise you’ve walked through it a hundred times before, walked through it every month for years.
This afternoon we are heading to meet with Dr Digesu. He’s the man chosen to bring you into this world. I admit even though your mother’s stomach is huge and we have had a load of congratulatory messages, it is still hard to believe that you are actually coming to meet us. You are Paloma such a miracle. Maybe that’s why I am writing these letters. It makes everything ‘ more real’ if that’s the right expression. Anyway don’t forget to give us a wave or kick at around 5 o’clock. By then, we should be in his office.