It was early March as they assembled in the basement dining room a spit from the West End, there to eat, drink and consider how best to help London help itself to bloom and grow. A global health emergency had been declared, but only a few dozen cases had occurred in the UK. The new disease was barely on the social radar, though one attendee worried if he’d made a faux pas by greeting another by offering his hand.
The evening went well. The talk was of airports, business confidence, planning rules, skills shortages, housing costs, Brexit, the Treasury and the Mayor. The atmosphere was relaxed. The disease wasn’t mentioned at all, even though a month had passed since the British government had advised all British citizens to get out of China, where the sickness had begun and taken many lives. Only one guest had failed to show up.
Not until it was time to leave did the disease, a novel virus, become a subject of discussion, and then only as source for levity. Rather than shaking hands, some guests touched the toes of each others’ shoes.
In hindsight, they might, perhaps, have been less giggly, although earlier that day the Prime Minister, unveiling the government’s “battle plan” for repelling the plague, had recounted a recent visit to a hospital, cheerfully revealing to the assembled journalists and medical experts, “I shook hands with everyone, you’ll be pleased to know”.
Everyone slipped out into a dry London night. The stars and the BT Tower looked down. Only as the diners wandered in two and threes towards the tube did the story of the evening’s sole absentee start to emerge.
She was Italian. And in Italy, the time for hand-shaking was long past.
That nation was the leader of the European pack, with 79 people killed by the fast-spreading disease, most of them in their sixties. It had rendered many more unwell, relatives of the guest who didn’t get the basement gathering included. She had rushed home to tend to them.
The following day, the number of cases in the UK rose to 87. A major trade event was cancelled. And in Italy, all schools and universities were closed.
Within a week, the fourth UK death was announced in the House of Commons and a junior health minister had tested positive for the ailment. A special unit was set up to counter disinformation.
Within two weeks, the official word was that “unnecessary social contact” was best avoided.
Within three, the Prime Minister had spoken to the nation, ordering everyone to stay at home.
The missing Italian had already gone.
John Vane is a pen name used by Dave Hill, editor and publisher of On London. Buy his London novel Frightgeist: A Tall Tale of Fearful Times here or here. Follow on Bluesky.