Dressing for winter

LAST week—after only two days back at school— one of the children contracted Covid. We have had such persistent good fortune so far in escaping the virus that it took me a moment to believe the second brilliant-red line that appeared on their test. Happily, as yet, the symptoms seem mild. The child keeps state in their room, eating meals in bed and making occasional complaints about the quality of room service. For a period each day, they also sally downstairs to ‘check their email’. It’s really an excuse to drive everyone else away and play computer games unobserved, but I haven’t the heart to spoil almost the only pleasure they have left.

In an attempt to preserve the rest of the family from the virus, we have been trying to keep air circulating in the house. It’s not been the warmest week to have doors and windows open and, irritatingly, the only person who seems impervious to the cold is the invalid. All the rest of the family, however, have been hugging hot-water bottles and donning layers of clothing. The effect is comic, but we are counting the remaining days of isolation with great earnestness and eagerly anticipate the prospect of turning on the central heating again.