Lynda fears the virus, I worry about the future... but we still have a lot in common
It felt like we knew each other.. I’d love to go for a cuppa with him
LYNDA ON HOW WELL SHE CONNECTED WITH JOVAN
On paper, Lynda Felton-Scott and Jovan Nepaul seem to have little in common. Lynda, 75, is a retired nurse, while Jovan, 23, is a politics student.
Yet both of their lives have been upended by the coronavirus. While Lynda’s health problems mean she is shielding at home in Batley Carr, near Leeds, and receiving food parcels, Jovan has been forced to go home to West Bromwich from university and is volunteering in the community.
This week, we asked Lynda and Jovan to be the first participants in a ground-breaking new project – Britain Connects – launched today by the Daily Mirror and Daily Express.
A year after we pioneered Britain Talks, which was aimed at getting the UK chatting across the Brexit divide, this is a new virtual version.
This time we want to build on new connections forming across Britain as we face the pandemic together.
“Jovan is a lovely young man,” Lynda says, after the pair connect via Zoom, chatting for almost two hours.
“It felt like we really did know each other straight away. I’d love to go for a cup of tea with him when lockdown is over. On paper, we seem different – we voted differently in the election – but we share a lot of the same values.”
Jovan agrees. “I would have never spoken to someone like Lynda in my normal life,” he says. “We just wouldn’t have met and politically we seem very different. But we had a lot in common.”
The Mirror asked the pair to meet for a virtual chat, as the country reaches a moment of peak isolation.
Lynda, new to modern tech “whatnot”, is in the living room of her flat. Digital-savvy Jovan is in his childhood bedroom with his guitar.
Lynda thinks the Prime Minister is doing a reasonable job, “the best of a bad lot” who will “get Brexit done”. Jovan is a Labour supporter who “did everything in my power to stop Boris being elected” and voted remain.
With a 52-year age gap, Lynda’s biggest fear over Covid-19 is catching the virus, while Jovan worries far more about what will come next for his already-struggling generation.
But, as they chat, they discover they both come from NHS families.
Jovan’s grandmother came to Britain from Ghana in the 1950s to work in the health service as a midwife. His mum is a matron at Birmingham City hospital. “She’s at the hospital right now,” Jovan says, “on the front line. We’re very proud of her.”
Lynda’s dad was a pharmacist from Wallasey, Merseyside, as well as a navigator in the RAF during the war.
And it turns out Lynda, a former theatre and paediatric nurse, was a matron herself, too.
“I was nursing for 56 years,” she says.
“Twice my lifetime,” Jovan laughs.
“I retired two years ago otherwise I would have been on the front line myself,” Lynda says.
“You know what it’s like, Mum’s in there all hours,” Jovan says. “On her day off yesterday she was called out and was there the whole day.” While they are on opposite sides of the political divide, both are angered by the lack of PPE for front-line workers.
Lynda previously ran a care home and is especially worried for carers. Jovan fears for his mum and her colleagues.
“My mum said one of her staff members had to go in with a motorbike helmet because they didn’t have enough PPE,” Jovan says. Lynda nods.
“I was screaming at the TV news. I could see what was going to happen and I couldn’t do anything about it.” Jovan adds: “I hope this is a 1945 moment where people say there’s been a particular way of doing things that hasn’t really worked… so we need to fund things, we need to treat people with more dignity and respect.” Lynda nods: “Exactly.”
For Britain Connects, the Mirror and Express are also partnering with the Behavioural Insights Team, social scientists who advise government.
“The coronavirus has created a shared experience without precedent
for all of us,” says the BIT’s Antonio da Silva.
“This unique situation also means there is an opportunity to bring people closer together.
“We will draw on evidence from behavioural science to help make that contact as fruitful as possible and learn more about bridging divides between people.”
It turns out Jovan and Lynda share many interests. Born in Liverpool, Lynda talks about nights spent as a student nurse at the famous Cavern Club, watching the Beatles. Jovan plays bass in the Themselves Houseband, as part of a collective that organises arts events in London.
“I went to school with Paul McCartney and John Lennon, that’s my only claim to fame,” Lynda says.
“That’s cooler than anything I could ever say!” Jovan laughs.
He is also a keen cyclist and is amazed when Lynda produces her exercise bike.
“It keeps my legs exercising while I watch the telly,” she says. “I do 400 pedals a few times a day. That’s more than you today, Jovan.” While Lynda is enjoying hot-cross buns and prosecco delivered by a neighbour’s son, Jovan is missing trips to the pub.
Both say they are “living like students”, staying up late watching TV. And both wish they could get their hair done – Lynda even teases Jovan for hiding his lockdown locks under a cap.
Lynda says she’s had so many generous donations – including from the local mosque – she’s had to arrange for some rice and tins to go to the local foodbank.
Meanwhile, she’s been sharing her 30 hot-cross buns over the garden fence. But she is missing her grandchildren, while Jovan misses his grandparents.
“I’m completely locked down,” Lynda says. “I can’t even go and start the car to make sure the engine is OK.”
Jovan is with family, including his brother, 19, and sister, 22 – but he fears for the future.
“I don’t know how I’m going to pay rent or whether I will ever be able to get a job,” he says. “For my generation, getting the virus isn’t the biggest concern.”
Lynda nods sympathetically and offers to share her last bottle of prosecco.
Jovan smiles. “Thank you for wanting to speak to me,” he says.
Lynda laughs. “We were thrown together, but I’m so pleased we were.” And she has a piece of advice. “You’re a lovely chap. Just don’t marry a nurse.”
We are all facing this together. With your help, this could be a unique moment of connection – a positive way of marking a one-off moment in global history. We hope you’ll join us.