A knock at the door but no-one there, instead a bottle of wine, and note from a neighbour. ‘Look after yourselves.’

The day before, a knock at the door. No-one there, instead homemade pate, and a note: ‘Thought you’d enjoy this.’

Texts offering shopping as we old ducks are self-isolating as instructed for those of our age. So, thank you, our wonderful neighbours. We have become an end Crescent full of phantoms who knock knock, leave something, and disappear.

Our local cafe now shut, has creatively diversified, and is delivering homemade ready meals. We had one today. Cottage pie, for two. Actually, it will do for four. Just ten pounds, arriving at the door. Knock knock, no-one there, but a lunch, and in a separate paper bag, chopped sausage for the dogs.

As well as foolish people out there, there are many more who are not. Let’s be thankful for them all.

Thank you, Jacqui and Izzie at Bliss Cafe