One

It was day two of the lockdown and she was already breaking the rules. This walk was neither to an ‘essential shop’ nor could it really be called exercise. She just had to get out of the house, for her own sanity. Was that allowed?

The streets were expectant. That was the right word. The spring air was clean, box fresh; it was like the city was newly-built, filled with cars and bikes and ready-furnished houses, waiting for people to claim them. Everyone would gather and there would be a big ballot where people would draw lots and receive their allocated lives. A penthouse overlooking the Thames and a job in the City for them, a council house in Stockwell and Universal Credit for them.

She passed a young Asian man sat on a bench. He was wearing a mask which he had lifted to drink from a bottle of Evian. There were some scrunched up paper bags at his feet, the kind a pasty comes in. He seemed to be doing nothing other than watching the river.

As she passed him she gave him a look which said, ‘you shouldn’t be just sitting around at a time like this, it’s not essential.’

Then she thought he might be a tourist stuck here unable to get home, and she felt bad. Then she realised he might have thought her disapproving look was a racial thing, like she was blaming him for the coronavirus outbreak, and she felt worse. She stopped walking, turned, and smiled at him.

He ignored her.

Soon she came to Vauxhall Bridge. The M16 building squatted to the left of it like some sort of art deco Las Vegas hotel. She liked to look at the antennas and imagine the secrets they snatched from the air. They were all around her, right now, those secrets, if she could only catch one.

She stopped in the middle of the bridge and looked at the river. It oozed beneath her, muddy and sluggish. She thought what it would be like to fall from the bridge into the river. Would she be able to see when she opened her eyes under water? Would she hit the bottom? Would it be hard, or soft, sucking mud?

A man walked behind her then stopped just past her. He turned to look out at the river, spreading his hands on the balustrade. She wondered if he was two metres away from her. She glanced at him – he had a face like a broken rock, jagged and hard. His hair was white.

Without looking at her, he spoke.

Comment below and tell me what happens next

Some things to think about:

What’s the main character’s name? Can you tell me anything about her?

Why did she need to get out of the house?

The Asian man on the bench will recur later – who is he?

What does the man say to her?