I have remembered a book or was it a film? It was a futuristic story about a bit of a bug which was infecting anyone or everyone. It was important not to make eye contact with the bug. To avoid infection it was necessary to wear a mask, lie low, fist bump not handshake. Wash hands a lot. Spray antibacterial gel liberally.

The main characters lived outside London. Their house guest, a close relative was there too. One chilly Thursday in November the virus seemed to be circling their house. In an attempt to protect the vulnerable , the Boll was whisked away to safety in London. There she was kept in solitary confinement- no visitors. Just lots of clinicians and meds and warm water jugs with no glass. Or glass with no warm water jugs.
Meanwhile as they battened down the hatches at home, news filtered through that Teataster had made eye contact with the dreaded virus. He had been infiltrated. His tests were positive.

As the messages boomerang ‘d through the night. Boll organised immediate evacuation of the house guest, Roxy. He loaded his car. He left a cup of tea at the bedroom door of ….. Teataster. Off he drive as fast as he could go … carefully and avoiding all eye contact with, the virus. Holed up by the sea Rox was safe and well and actually very happy.
9 days later Boll was allowed out of solitary but not home. Having a dodgy case of Mycoplasma pneumoniae infection and bonkers asthma, the danger level was high, the geiger counter of Teataster’s virus was bonkers busy. Was indeed across the world. Boll booked nights in a hotel for comfort and close to friends and family for laughter and chatter. All the while awaiting the geiger counter of virus results.
Days later it was decreed the Teabag was virus – less. Well the pcr was positive but apparently that would be so for 90 days.
Whilst happily planning a 90 day house rental, news came in to Boll of lateral flows. These stick-it-up- your nose tests had been rolled out to fight the virus. It seems. LTF negative is good. PCR positive is to be ignored. 🦠 Obviously?

Meanwhile the Rox subjected himself to his own PCR which was NEGATIVE, with hours to spare he escaped to Heathrow and flew to safety in North America.
Finally, medical teams, after much head scratching allowed the Boll to go home. Stepping tentatively through the front hall, antibac spray poised , she tripped over a mountain of Amazon parcels. The ukulele was still on the sofa, music propped up as she’d last played. The fruit bowl was bubbling with over ripe brown decaying bananas. Wrinkly pears and grapes. The mould growing on dips and left overs and bread in the fridge would surely cause a virus of their own making. Whoever would realise olives actually shrivel in two weeks.
The dogs looked up wearily. Perhaps the army of volunteers had over done the walking bit!
The army of volunteers had certainly filled the freezer. Shepherds pie and casseroles to last til Christmas. Yippee.

Boll climbed the stairs coughing and wheezing to find Teabag hunched over his laptop. Aha he smiled. Great you are back. What’s for supper?. Shepherds pie Boll replied