Our meals had been stripped back to sausages and mashed potatoes and spaghetti Bolognese and chicken tikka masala. Dad had more time than ever and wanted to do work around the house, but also had less money than ever to spend on it. He'd potter out the back, patching up paintwork, cutting back overgrown bushes and trees and making a bonfire on the lawn, hoping the neighbours wouldn't complain about the smoke.
Mum tidied our wardrobes and chucked out clothes that didn't fit. Then she went through the kitchen cupboards and linen press and bathrooms. The spare room was full of garbage bags to take to the op shop, when it reopened. She potted up ivy from the garden in hanging baskets in the bathroom and bought me a Spanish moss air plant for my room.
'How long do you think all this is going to last?' Josh asked one night over dinner. He was missing his mates and Saturday afternoons at the tennis club. He was more keen than I to get back to school.
'Who knows,' mum said. 'At least the case numbers here are low. They're flattening the curve. It's working. They can't keep us locked up for too long. It's screwing the economy.'
'Max read on Facebook something about Bill Gates and the 5G network and how it causes flu-like symptoms. And did you know there's a lab in Wuhan, where it started? This virus is probably man-made.'
'Don't believe what you read on Facebook,' dad said. 'There's all sorts of conspiracy theories out there. Most of them are started by the Russians to destabilise the West.'
'That sounds like a conspiracy theory too,' mum said.
'It can't go on for that much longer, can it?' Josh repeated. Mum and dad just looked at each other.
'We're okay, aren't we?' I asked. I liked our house and two cars and how my parents rarely said no to anything I wanted.
'We're okay at the moment, Ivy, but if it goes on for too much longer things may get difficult. I have to be straight up with you,' dad said.
Mum picked up the dish of creamy potatoes. 'Anyone want more?' She dished Josh up another spoonful and sat back in her chair. 'I spoke to mum this afternoon. She wants me to come inside when I drop her shopping off. She hasn't seen anyone in weeks. I've just been leaving it at the front door and we've been speaking through the window. But she was adamant, she wants me to come in and have a cup of tea.'
'She's lonely,' dad said. 'It must be hard being in your eighties and having nothing to do all day.'
'You should give her my old ipad,' I said. 'That way we can FaceTime her. I'll give her a call. I miss her.'
'That's a lovely idea, Ivy,' mum said. 'But she'll never be able to use it.'
'You could teach her,' I urged.
'It's beyond her. She'll never be able to learn how to do it. She still pays her bills by phone.' I felt sorry for my grandmother and wondered if there was a way that I could teach her how to use the iPad so she could stay connected with family.
'I spoke to Lisa today,' mum said, changing the subject. Lisa was her oldest school friend. 'Peter was a Virgin Australia pilot,' mum said. 'They've all been stood down. And then I ran into Anthony at Woolworths. He told me that Georgia's shifts have been cut back to two days a week. And I was wondering about Jill and Mike and how they'd just bought that hotel out Queenscliff way ...'
'Okay,' dad said. 'Enough ...' He looked at Josh and I and forced a smile. 'So what's happening with school?'
'Nothing much,' Josh said.
'Come on,' dad said. 'You're in year 12 ...'
Josh started talking, but I wasn't hearing anything, worry was firmly embedding its claws in my chest. I felt like the new great Depression was here already.