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A WEEK before the lockdown was introduced, I went for a drink in my local, the Duke Of-Wellington in Shoreham. It has wonderful beer from small independent breweries, friendly, welcoming staff, live music four times a week, which I help organise, and a diverse and equally friendly bunch of regulars, many of whom are my friends.
I am a very gregarious person — it’d be difficult to do my job if I wasn’t — and I feel very much at home there. That day, I didn’t.
It was packed. I am not easily scared but in that environment, so familiar and beloved to me, I suddenly felt frightened. An icy feeling came over me. I had one pint, said goodbye to Drake the landlord and went home. As I cycled back my lungs literally breathed a sigh of relief.
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