Peace Inert – Jenny 39

 

[For back story go here: Story so far at 30 Nov 2020 and this one.]

[For other back story click in-links]

“Go into the garage, put the bike on rollers and away you go,” said Peter. “Or rather away you don’t go.”

“Rollers?” said Jenny as if the word were a foreign language.

“Or a conveyor belt,” Peter continued, “you know so the wheels on the bike go round and...”

He sang the last part and did vague hand gestures. Jenny smiled, “You always liked that song,” she said.

“Or just jack up the rear wheel so it won’t go anywhere. Please make sure it doesn’t drop though, otherwise there’ll be a whiz and a crash and we’ll find you plastered over the wall.”

“Sounds hazardous,” concluded Jenny.

“So’s riding a bike outside the borders of a tier three area apparently,” said Peter. “Pick your poison and decide who you’re endangering.”

Everything was tarnished somehow. Looking back over the past two weeks there was no doubt that while the days had been enjoyable, the prospect of the new year, new restrictions and a morbid race between vaccine and virus gave everything a dull grey dusting. Where there was light and twinkling there was now shadow and cloud. A fog had descended, not just visually over the darkening skies, but also over Jenny’s thoughts, making everything harder to work out.

“I might just find a workout online,” said Jenny. “Keep me going without me going anywhere.”

“Joe Wicks is a bit passé,” said Peter. “You need one of those awesome fitness apps. That’ll lick you into shape.”

“And are you going to get yourself into shape?” Asked Jenny. “Ready for parenthood?”

“Rude!” Said Peter. “I’m already fine and fit for the job. You ask Jude.”

“She’s not seen you in the flesh for a while…”

“Are you thinking I’ve put on weight?”

“I’m thinking about all those mince pies…”

“And now I’m going to walk to school,” said Peter. “Or rather I’m going to walk around the block, come back here and then go to my room to log on to the first class.”

The better year might just work out, but for now Jenny wasn’t convinced. Izzy was at work, possibly pleading with someone to keep her job, possibly misleading someone so she could keep her job, possibly trying to work out how she could pay back a whole heap of money Jenny wasn’t convinced she had any more. She hoped Izzy was right, but there really was no straight-forward explanation for what had happened.

The new year could be a good time to reinvigorate her new career choice but again, there wasn’t a lot of energy around that to justify much optimism. Claire had cut down her work, the course work she had found was rapidly drying up just as the opportunity to do hands on work was drying up. She hoped she might find new opportunities but virtual plumbing wasn’t going to get her anywhere.

Helen and Peter would be off school this week at least, and Helen perhaps for longer. The hated 2020 had been consigned to recent history, but its detritus still overflowed any kind of bin you tried to put it in. The pandemic continued, the lockdowns by any other description, the restrictions, the everything. Maybe Peter was right. Just prop the bike up, get on it and pretend you’re riding through the countryside. 

Otherwise, Jenny felt that she was now just waiting for everything else to happen. She would have a cup of tea and a biscuit – the last of the round chocolate biscuits – sit and wait for the next thing to happen. It might be Izzy, it might be Jude, it might be Peter, Helen or even Claire. What else was there for her to do? She could read a book. Any book. The book the kids had bought her for Christmas – Eating for Success, fifty high energy meals for the athlete. Packed with goodness and a whole host of herbs and spices she’d never heard of.

Peter left the house temporarily, toast in hand and apparently happy. Just for fun Jenny suddenly had a whim to look up what the practicalities might be around a wedding between him and Jude. Just for fun, nothing serious. What could happen now, or in the future? How could she make the occasion one to look forward to and remember?

There was a shifting upstairs. Things being moved and possibly even tidied. Jenny went to see if she could help. She found Helen quite happy in her room. She had put down her phone, turned off the apps and bowed out of the running stream of social media. She’d put up the easel they’d bought her for Christmas, found a canvas and had started to paint.