30 Britain The EconomistMarch 28th 2020
1L
ean outof any of the sash windows on
Taybridge Road in Clapham, and there’s
always something to listen to. From the
early hours, jet engines thrum through the
sky, delivering passengers to Heathrow in
time for work. Then there’s the rapid foot-
steps of commuters hurrying for the Tube
and the laughter of children scooting to a
private school round the corner. Trades-
men begin their hammering and drilling
soon afterwards, converting lofts and dig-
ging out basements. On Friday nights the
clunk of car doors reverberates, as Ubers
ferry residents back from parties. The next
morning abandoned chicken-shop boxes
pay testament to the evening’s jollity.
That is, until this week. Now, like much
of the capital, this meandering street of
late-Victorian houses has fallen quiet.
Planes are grounded, offices and schools
are shut. Nobody is throwing parties. Yet
behind its neatly-painted front doors, Tay-
bridge Road is busier than ever. In ways big
and small, every household is adjusting to
life under lockdown.
The pandemic has already put some out
of work. One is a freelance photographer,
whose bookings have dried up; another is a
location scout for feature films, who was
given two weeks’ notice after only a day’s
filming on her latest project. At the other
end of the street, Noelle Woosley has been
hit particularly hard. She and her partner
run their own recording studio and per-
form at weddings as a cello-and-guitar duo.
“All of our weddings this summer have
been cancelled,” she says. “People who
were going to be recording in the studio
have pulled out.” Her sister, who shares
their flat, has also lost her job as a waitress.
Others are off sick, with suspected cases of
covid-19. In one family, the parents and
three children are all showing symptoms.
Many of those still in work are strug-
gling to keep their children occupied and
their bosses happy. Zoe Wingfield only
started a new job, in human resources,
three weeks ago after taking time out to
raise her twin daughters, now two. Every
day, the pair ask her and her partner, a sales
director for a telecoms company, where
they are going today, expecting jaunts to
museums or perhaps a city farm. “They
seem confused when we tell them no-
where,” she says. A few doors down, a
French family with four children miss their
Dutch au pair, who went home when bor-
ders began to close. The father hopes that aprevious au pair, who moved to a job in a
pub, might return. “She’s not very keen to
self-isolate alone,” he says.
Nearly every household has cancelled
something. One retiree has had to return 33
concert tickets and negotiate refunds on
behalf of five friends for a trip to Germany.
Nor will she go to York with her goddaugh-
ter to celebrate turning 70. Others have
abandoned a house party in Scotland, afamily trip to Disneyland in Paris and
“granny’s annual Easter egg hunt”.
Every house is seeking new diversions.
One couple says “romantic life is more im-
portant than ever.” At no 137, the four
housemates prefer to settle down to watch
the government’s press conference each
evening. “It’s the closest we’ll get to war-
time,” says one of them, Ed Jones. The three
friends who share no 24 are enjoying eat-How covid-19 is playing out in a
London streetCommunity life in LondonAlone, together
T
he practicalitiesof living under
lockdown can be especially hard in a
small village. Broadband reception in
Wilton, in the south-west of England, is
patchy so working from home can be
tricky. Other than a pond furnished with
the requisite number of ducks, the vil-
lage has few amenities even in healthy
times. And now The Swan, the local pub
and only village institution (there is no
church), has been forced to close.
Yet these Wiltshire villagers are not
complaining. Covid-19 is more prevalent
in London than in rural England. Locals
want to keep it that way, so they are quite
happy with the reduction in train ser-
vices. A new local WhatsApp group is
flooded with messages offering to pick
up food or prescriptions for the elderly or
to walk other people’s dogs and news
bulletins: loo paper available in Tesco in
Marlborough, potatoes now for sale on
the market stall, newspaper deliveries
still happening intermittently.
What’s more, covid-19 has brought
about a retail revolution. Bill Clemence,
The Swan’s landlord, has turned the
saloon bar into a pop-up shop selling
vegetables, fruit, milk, bread and even(wonders!) local eggs. Wine is priced at a
flat £10 a bottle. For the first few days he
worried he might be breaking the rules,
but he has since been reassured. He
allows only two people inside at once
and insists that all payments must be
contactless, but his service has fast be-
come indispensable. The pub is also
selling plenty of take-out family meals to
help those who find themselves stuck at
home with schoolchildren.
Glorious spring sunshine is helping
keep spirits up. The daffodils are out and
the first mowing of the year is under way.
The biggest local farmer is upbeat, as the
uncertainty that covid-19 has brought has
pushed up demand for wheat, allowing
him to forward sell a much bigger chunk
of his spring crop than he would have
expected at this stage.
Much as in the rest of the country,
covid-19 is bringing the village closer
despite (or perhaps because of ) lost
social amenities. More walkers and
cyclists appear to be on the roads, just as
fewer cars are driving into nearby towns.
And although social distancing is being
carefully maintained, the greetings that
are exchanged seem cheerier than usual.The Swan takes flight
Village EnglandWILTON
Covid-19 has brought a retail revolution to a small corner of Wiltshire