"I think it's round about seventeen thousand dead so far... the majority here in Lombardy and Bergamo the worst!..."

I'm telling mum and Gran the details that they've asked for but don't really want to know.

"... Everybody's saying our numbers are so high because of the Atalanta versus Valencia match. Spreading it around the supporters who brought it back here.... "

Jack interrupts, calling loudly from his position on the sofa with the kids. "I bet it was here way before that... Think of all the tourists we get up here... And the airport..."

I shift on the dining room chair, tilting the laptop screen to a better angle.

"Either way it's knocked Bergamo off it's feet. It's like a scene from 'The Stand' down in Bassa, the streets are cordoned off with military on guard... Alberto's lost all but two of the old boys he plays cards with at the bar. Everyday he calls to tell us who's popped their clogs during the night...."

"How's Simon and Charlie dealing with it? Have you told them the truth about the virus?" Mum's leaning closer to her computer screen, not fully understanding where the microphone pick up is.

"Simon knows most of what's going on. A lot of his friends have grandparents in the homes who were affected and other people they know.. It's a small place here... But with Charlie we use less details. The worst thing for her is missing her friends. They get to see or hear each other in the online classes, but it's hard to get her to understand that she can't go out and play with them."

Gran pulls their computer closer to her, cutting the picture of mum's face and upper torso in half.

"Do you all go out and clap for the doctors and nurses like we do dear?... Your friend's a nurse isn't she?"

At this point Simon is displaying the new kitten upside-down over the top of the laptop.

"Yes, she is Gran. She's having a hard time, to say the least. Once they get this new field hospital running it could be easier to deal with the numbers that keep coming."

I brush Simon away from the screen, saving the poor cat from a rush of blood to the head.

"There's no clapping here though Gran."

Gran looks confused.

"But I thought people were singing on the balconies and playing music for them... It was on the BBC last night wasn't it Pauline..."

My mum pokes her head in to be fully seen and nods in agreement.

"Yes, Jilly, in Milan they looked really positive... Lots of rainbow banners around and..."

The giant kitten has returned to fill the upper part of the screen blocking my view. Simon begins to move it across from side to side, giving the impression that it's flying.

"Simon give over will you?"

"Oh... Who's that?" Gran claps her hands together excitedly."Is that your kitty Simon?"

Simon pushes in front of me and now his face takes the whole screen.

"Yes, Gran... Do you like him? Nanny... do you like him too? Bet you can't guess what his name is... "

I can't see anything but the back of Simon's head, but I can hear the response as the ladies humour him.

"Is it Tiger? Or Donald?" Gran hazards a guess. "He looks like a Donald... Scruffy little thing..."

"No Gran..." Simon sounds a bit put out. "... Look at his eyes... Does he remind you of anyone?"

I pull my son back and get him to hold the squirming furball the right way up, so that I can see mum's face.

She comes in close to the screen and screws up her eyes.

"My word...is that?... He's the spitting image of Harry! Well I'll be dammed!"

"I knew you'd get it Nanny!"

"Thank you Simon..." I move him away from the computer and have a gulp of water before continuing. "As I was saying... There's no clapping and singing up here.. There are a lot of homemade banners around though. It's not that we don't appreciate all the medics are doing - don't get me wrong - but everyone's just so angry about the situation. They think it's too little too late..."

Jack shouts out from the sofa again.

" They're doing exactly the right thing if you ask me! "

Still facing the screen but talking with my head in his direction I respond; "How can you say that Jack.. What about your job? My job for that matter... All those people up here who depend on this time of year... We're going to really suffer! "

" Really,.. suffer?!... Look at the alternative Jill. You could be dead!"

Shaking my head I return to mum and Gran.

"Do you get out for exercise like I do?" Mum asks.

"No. I take the dog out three times a day but no more than a hundred meters. The police can fine you otherwise..."

"Doesn't stop that wanker with the doberman from going all the way through town Jill..."

"Yes. Thanks Jack."

"Can't Simon go out for a few minutes with Sissy as well?"

"He did for a while mum. But there was some idiot in the row of houses opposite who threatened to shoot him with an arrow if he saw him out there again."

Gran gasps as Jack shouts once more;

"Yeah...he thought we were just taking the dog out for the sake of it.. Stupid jealous bastard... I took Sissy out for two days after that..."

As he's ranting on and on in the background I'm left smiling in an odd unnatural way in the little picture at the top of the screen.

"... I told him if he wants to throw arrows at my son I will throw a motherfuc... "

"Can you still hear me mum...?" I interrupt hastily, before the language gets worse."... The picture's frozen... "

"Yes, we can definitely still hear!" mum is saying, her eyebrows raised at Jack's ongoing tirade in the background. "Shall we call it a day? Do you have anything else you want to say mother?"

Gran pulls the screen round closer to her image once more.

"Yes, dear... Have you got plenty of toilet rolls over there?"

"Yes Gran," I laugh. "It's flour and vegetarian food we're short of... Has the online shopping delivery got any better for you?"

Gran shakes her head. "No. Terrible stuff they sent us again. No spaghetti. No rice. Just this stuffed gnocchi things. Terrible."

"Never mind Gran. We'll see if we can order a pack online from here to send you."

"Oh, that would be lovely dear. Take care now."

"Ok. You too... Bye for now.. Love you Gran...love you mum..."

I'm just about to call the kids to come and say goodbye when I hear mum telling Gran not to press the button yet, but the call is ended before they can get there.

"That's Gran!" Simon shrugs.

********

The whole world is upside down. Or at least this corner of Northern Italy feels that way. You've probably seen it in a million movies, tv series and apocalyptic graphic novels, however, here in early May 2020, this is the truth - the end of the world as we know it!

The t.v blares out the signature tune announcing the hourly news update. We've been locked in for about two months now and a state of depression is starting to set in.

It has snuck upon us unnoticed, but little Charlie has started to stay in her bedroom more, playing with her dolls alone and twelve year old Simon is becoming more and more dependent on phone games. He's persuaded to come out of his bedroom and join us - if we hassle him long enough - either to play cards or watch the wildlife documentaries he loves, together.

Images and statistics of the daily virus death count come across the t.v screen. Now a numbingly familiar aspect to our everyday lives. Last night I had sent them off to their bedroom with platitudes of : It'll be ok... You'll see tomorrow, everything will be alright.

But did I believe it? How could I know what's going to happen? I am as lost as everyone else. No one is able to predict tomorrow. Not now. The important thing is to keep up the facade of everything as at ever was for the kids.

Before this happened, we kind of had an idea of what was going to occur from day to day. The virus has changed everything. A disease that can cross continents. It makes you wonder what's been going on? How can wet markets and our old people in care homes being picked off one by one, have anything in common?

The morning sun is breaking bright, over the mountains behind us in Bergamo Alta. The sunshine orange and warm, the smell of espresso coffee bubbling on the stove and fresh croissants in the oven. Well, life can't be all bad right?

A news report flashes in on the t.v screen.

Charlie and Simon clamber onto my knees as we watch the seven o'clock bulletin from around the world.

We are sitting scrunched together on a fold out camping chair on the shallow balcony of our third floor apartment. We prefer to sit here in the shade with the barest of breezes meandering round us. The t.v is visible from the kitchen counter, as we sit watching just outside the open doorway. The sunlight is filtered by the neighbour's awnings from over their balconies.

Italy has an unforgiving summer heat and we can feel the sun gaining its strength for the coming summer everyday. Get to the mountains it says - get to the seaside. Nice idea if you're in a position to do so, but as it happens that coming summer we wouldn't be going anywhere.

The lady in the white frilly blouse on the news gives her final farewells for the morning. Smiling a thin line of painted red lips, the thirty-odd year old presenter gives the impression that she's wishing her retirement would hurry up.

Her desk companion, on the other hand, a swarve, sophisticated young man of twenty something - with the body and face of a Greek statue - grins and gestures to the camera that everything is as it should be.

Thunder roars from literally out of the blue around the apartment block. Shaking the windows and doorframes. Our scruffy kitten, Harry, begins to cry.

Simon jumps from my lap and runs to scoop up the mewing furball. Clicking and soothing the tiny infant, my dark haired, blue eyed boy once again amazes me with his instinct for taking care of animals.

The next day is May the 10th. Charlie is sitting on my knee as we look out across the dawning of the new day. It's five in the morning and she's had yet another nightmare. Not about elephants this time but birds. Birds falling from the sky for no reason. She doesn't want to go back to sleep and is finding comfort in cuddling Harry whilst being cuddled herself by her mum.

I can't sleep either. For several nights it's been a case of a few light hours sleep and a few long hours of insomnia. Ruben and some of the others I've talked to are having the same problem. I guess it's the lack of physical exercise and the higher input of worry that's doing it.

The kitchen balcony is in darkness and we sit huddled together, watching the pink glow on the horizon spread lazily. The dark outlines of sharp triangular roofs are smoothed out by the lighter shades of tree foliage brushing against the angles. There are a few pinpricks of electric lights here and there from fellow insomniacs and I feel comfort in their company.

No noise. Nothing man-made invades our world. The breeze rustles leaves. The first call of the dawn chorus comes from a pigeon. Its voice sounds like an elderly man complaining, about something, cooing up and down in scale grumpily. There's no noise. Nobody around. Charlie points out the shadow of a cat creeping along the edge of the road which winds down below us. We watch happily distracted. The cat bobs down, tail twitching as it stalks its prey - invisible to us - preparing itself for the strike.

"Mamma... Look!" Charlie whispers sleepily.

There in the middle of the road, jogging down towards the cat is what looks like a medium sized dog.

From behind me I hear Simon whisper, "It's a fox!"

He joins us and kneels down next to me, peering through the railings to observe the animals confident stroll in the world without humans.

The cat gets a whiff of the fox downwind and stiffens itself up, comically raising its paws in horror before belting off in fear.

The dark dog shape with the bushy tail regards the retreating cat and sits down on the tarmack. Dead center of the road. It turns to face in our direction. We hold our breath as it looks directly at us, two reflecting silver eyes watching us, watching him.

I hug my children closer to me. A beautiful memory born in a terrible time.

The 'città dei mille' is in mourning. Funerals are banned and I can't imagine how relatives are able to say their goodbyes, as we did so for Harry. The streets are dead. Schools are silent. Swings move idly in the breeze, lonely for the children. The city of the thousand is still, but there is life. Murals imprinted on the face of the hospital and town hall for the world to see. Displaying the courage and strength these people have. Bergamaschi never give up.

********

Freedom comes with a cost. The first weekend after the quarantine, into phase two as the government calls it, and we have permission to move around Lombardy at last. We are invaded. All the streets are packed full of visitors from the region, desperate to get back to the normality of outings to the regional tourist hot-spots.

Jack brings us back to the apartment as quickly as he can on the first Saturday evening after freedom is granted. We hang out of the children's bedroom window amazed and quite frankly stunned by the inundation of people. Wave upon wave of old and young, families and friends, groups of twenty-somethings and married couples.

We feel disgusted. Disappointed by the pure lack of respect that's being shown for the immense impact this tragedy has had on our city. How can anybody contemplate celebrating anything anymore?

Angelica eventually gets some proper time off. She texts me on her second morning at home, just to say that she spent most of her first day sleeping and she won't be getting out of her pyjamas for at least two days.

********

Ruben returns on June 4th. He has news that can't be given over the phone he says. I'm dreading the worst. I bet he wants to stay in Puglia with the wonderful Andre' and sell up the shop. I wouldn't blame him either. Is it selfish of me to consider my own wellbeing though?

He meets me outside the shop that afternoon. He has boxes and bags of cleaning equipment and is climbing into what can only be described as a spacesuit when I arrive.

"Hey! Ruby, is it Halloween already?"

Zipping up the yellow suit, my friend grins at me. He looks well, suntanned and rested.

"Jilly Willy! So great to see you." He hugs me, totally ignoring the official distancing regulations. "Have I got a surprise for you my girl."

"I don't know Ruby?" I laugh nervously, "Have you got a surprise for me? And more importantly, is it a good one?"

Ruben tilts his head to one side and arches his eyebrows.

"It's the best Jill, Bill. You," he simultaneously hands me cleaning sprays and pieces of a matching protective suit while saying each word. "You. my friend, are the proud new manager slash co-owner of our shop!"

I gasp, trying not to drop the pile of items I'm now in possession of. Ruben observes my expression calmly, then breaks out into a huge grin.

"I'm getting married. I'm going to stay and live with Andre' and we want you to take over the shop. Everything. I'll help you with the sanitisation and the legal documents and after that I don't want to have anything to do with the shop. It's all yours. I just want you to send me the accounts and all the profits! Ha ha! I'm joking Jilly, I know there won't be any of those for God knows how long. But I do want you to know that this shop for all sense and purposes is now under your control. Can you handle it?"

"Oh, my lord! I don't know what to say. Really. I'm lost for words."

"That'll be a first."

Ruben stays to help me as promised and we get things ready for the next day's business.

We have a sad and heartfelt farewell and I swear a promise for me and my family to be present at the wedding next spring.

*****

The following morning Jack accompanies me work, holding my hand tightly the whole way. I open the shop up and stand in the doorway, mask on, watching the steady trickle of locals and tourists meandering up the street. They appear in slow motion, the hot sun tempered by the cool breeze wrapping the occupants of the 'città dei mille'. Coaxing them to start again. Try again.

Jack's hand is pressed firmly against the small of my back.

A familiar tall frame steps out from the piece of the uphill street which is blocked by the bright sunshine in my eye line. The crazy singing English professor is back.

Dressed in a very smart dark grey suit, white shirt and black silk tie, he has never looked more like his James Bond doppelganger than now.

He smiles disarmingly and places a hand high on the doorframe, his weight resting sideways as he begins to sing, way too close to me for the one meter regulations.

"Hello, my friend, hello..."

His breath smells of mint and coffee.

"... Just called to let you know.."

I smile. "Thanks for the Neil Diamond impersonation..." I stand aside and motion for us to enter the shop. "Come on in. Let's see if I can get you to buy something this time."

He follows me inside.

The End