Shake it Up (Baby) – Jenny 9

[For back story see lower numbers in archive]

Jenny and Izzy sat, two metres apart, at the kitchen table. The two metres was now out of habit. Neither of them thought they needed it, but they also didn’t feel the need to be any closer. Jenny placed two impressive looking strawberry cheese cake milk shakes in front of them. It was their lockdown luxury – ordinarily Jenny would be rationing such supplies, but now she didn’t care. If it was there she was having it.

“I found a box full of old coffee mugs,” said Izzy, “I mean how strange is that? There was a time – do you remember – when wherever we went somewhere we’d buy another mug? Just to show we’d been there? No way would we throw them out so they’re all still there. Ridiculous.”

“I thought we only ever bought them if we really liked them?” said Jenny. “I mean we went to some places and the mugs were terrible so we didn’t bother.”

“Really?” Said Izzy, going a bit vague. “Funny, I thought it was a thing we did. Would explain why there are so many. And some of them, I’m telling you, are hideous.”

Jenny let this slide, determined not to be distracted by small details.

“Anyway, probably a charity shop that would take them – when we can get out and they’re open of course – or maybe someone collects that kind of thing. I could look online.”

“Can I see them before they go?” asked Jenny.

“Do you want to? I mean, we’re just clearing out.”

“You’re clearing out,” noted Jenny.

She sipped the shake, trying to sooth herself. Helen had only recently and very moodily gone to bed. She was in a bad mood generally – because she was – and didn’t want speak with anyone about it. With her eyes glued to her phone and muttering what sounded like a conversation with – or perhaps just at – absent friends Jenny hadn’t wanted to interfere for fear that she’d get her head bitten off. Instead she just wished her goodnight and got her head bitten off anyway.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” snapped Helen.

Izzy had then intervened to try and sort out what was happening but that intervention hadn’t helped either and one thing had led to another and then another and finally to milk shakes and the hope of a relaxing, reassuring chat. But it seemed that that was just going to be a hope as well.

“Just making the most of these – strange – times,” said Izzy. “When else would we have the chance to go through the loft like this?”

“We haven’t,” said Jenny more pointedly now. “You have.”

“Do you have a problem with this?” asked Izzy – somewhat pointlessly by now, thought Jenny, but why not get it out in the open.

“How do we get out of this?” asked Jenny. “I mean, the rules and stuff are confusing. We seem to be moving out of lockdown I think but who knows, and we – or at least I – am getting more and more hassle from work.”

“Oh ignore work,” said Izzy. “They don’t know what we’re dealing with and besides if the kids aren’t going back to school nothing much else will change for us. Nothing can change – we have to stick with the kids, right?”

“Don’t you reckon?” said Jenny. “So where do you think this is all going? Are you going to be in the loft until September or something? Waiting for everything to go back to the way it was?”

“No, but there’s no need to rush stuff,” said Izzy.

“I want to know how we get out of this,” said Jenny again. Izzy looked at her a little puzzled. 

“There’s no need to fret over this – it’ll shift back gradually and before you know it…”

“I don’t want it to shift back gradually. I want it to change for us and for us to sort it out.”

Only then did Izzy – and Jenny – realise they weren’t really talking about the lockdown at all. Only then did they realise this wasn’t about government policy or timetables or transmission levels. It was about them. Not only that, but the issue had been there since before lockdown, there just hadn’t been a reason to say it. 

“I’ve made enough space in the loft for a camp bed,” said Izzy softly. “I’ll move up there for a bit.”