Only an event such as wartime evacuation can compare to lockdown. Plans for the young need to meet the challenge
During the war, my mum, like tens of thousands of other children, was evacuated. She left the terrace house she shared with 10 siblings and her parents and wound up in a beautiful convent perched on a headland near Conwy, north Wales, looking out to sea. It was heaven.
I sometimes take her back there and on each visit she recovers some new memory. Recently, she told me about the night her big sister woke her and took her to the window to show her a strange red glow on the horizon. “That,” she said, “is Liverpool. It’s all on fire.” She went back to bed believing that her world and the people to whom she belonged had been utterly destroyed.