Effie McNeill lived with her husband Alec in a bungalow in the Comiston area of Edinburgh, near the ring road. Effie was 79, Alec 80. They couldn’t have afforded the neat bungalow now, but the price was OK fifty-five years ago when they bought it. They hadn’t built any additions onto it, just lived in it. Wealthy incomers looked at their bungalow with greedy eyes, imagining all the extensions they could add, to make it as big as a detached house. Estate agents had already made them offers, which they routinely rejected. The house was, after all, their home, and it would be theirs as long as one of them was alive to live in it. Alec had now been retired fifteen years, and kept the garden very nicely. They got their groceries delivered from the local supermarket once a week, and milk and eggs from a local milkman. So when the COVID-19 lockdown came, it didn’t alter their lives very much.