At last, Britain unlocks

It had been a long time coming. The country was fit to burst. But even as Boris Johnson issued the news yesterday that after more than four months of confinement Britain is to be unlocked, he was in no mood to throw his hat in the air.

If we abuse the liberties that are being restored to us, the Government will come down hard, he warned MPs. But if we are sensible – and lucky – and follow the rules, who knows? We might yet get back to something approaching normal within the next few weeks, or months, or years … or whatever.

July 4 is the Big Day. That is when we will be able to get a haircut, have our nails done, go to the pub, book a dirty weekend or even visit the European Union (which for millions of Brits has, of course, always been a holiday destination, not a serious place at all). Thereafter, it will be possible to offer prayers in a church, synagogue, temple or mosque, though not, as yet, to sing. You may to wait for the Hereafter for that.

Schools will reopen as normal in September, giving teachers the opportunity they have no doubt craved to remind their pupils that black lives matter and that their mothers and fathers are not necessarily the last word in the educational sphere.

Marriage ceremonies are also to resume, on condition that those gathered together are not more than 30 in number and wearing masks.

“You may kiss the bride,” Vicars will once more intone, albeit from a safe distance, “but no tongues.”

Again and again, Boris went out of his way to warn that if things go wrong – “and there will be flare-ups” – he would be required to reimpose restrictions, either locally or nationwide, for ­– like millions of Britons desperate to get back to something like normal life – “the virus has no interest in these debates”.

A long list ensued of what will and will not be acceptable behaviour in the months ahead. The two-metre social-distancing rule will be reduced to one metre ­ ­– good news for poker-players, less so for ballroom dancers and wrestlers. Football can resume minus shirt-pulling and the final-third ankle-tap, but cricket remains taboo because the red ball is apparently a “natural vector of the disease”.

Outdoor gyms are in; indoor gyms are out. Cinemas can reopen, as can museums, libraries and community centres. But live theatre, including opera, will have to wait its turn, as will swimming pools and family gatherings involving “multiple households”.

What can we look forward to in post-lockdown Britain? Grandparents can once more meet their grandchildren, albeit disguised as bandits. Let’s hope they can remember what they look like and the noise they make. Young people will, I would guess, ignore most of the rules, but, after what happened in Reading on Sunday, will be well-advised to watch their backs in public parks.

Restaurants are back on the menu. Most importantly,  we can all go out for a pint, brought to our tables, reeking of disinfectant (the tables, not the beer), by bar staff wearing space helmets. Clubs, though, are to remain shuttered. So no dirty dancing (we’re having none of that while fear stalks the land).

The Premier League is already being fought out behind closed doors, with a soundtrack of “oohs” and “aahs” and “that was never a penalty, you misinformed rapscallion!”

The summer game faces more of a problem. The West Indies will (I think) play tests against England, with the players encased in the PPE equivalent of “whites” and the umpires, wearing gloves, equipped with hand (and ball) sanitisers. What will happen in rugby is anybody’s guess. Perhaps the autumn internationals will be played with the toss of a coin substituting for scrums and tackles decided by computer based on probability theory.

If this is normal, then normal has become very strange indeed. But then, as the Labour leader was obliged to concede through gritted teeth and oiled hair, what else could reasonably have been expected? The man who isn’t Ed Miliband or Jeremy Corbyn had a number of questions, he informed us, about the basis for the Government’s decisions. But out of consideration for the nation’s feelings, he wasn’t demanding answers – for now.

And so we head into this latest Brave New World (minus the “Feelies”). “Britain can take it” has given way to “We’re bored as Hell and we’re not going to take it any more”.

The Prime Minister stressed to a Commons chamber that these days looks more like a university lecture hall first thing on a Monday morning, that we are all on trial and that he will not hesitate to turn the lock against us once again if we behave like … well, the hostage Brian Keenan the week after he was released from four-and-a-half years of being chained to a radiator in a Beiruit basement.

Keenan – who boasted that he intended to drink himself silly and make love to all the women in the word – quickly calmed down, got married and found himself a new job. The worst was over and his best days lay ahead of him. Will we follow his example? Will it be VE Day all over again or we about to embark on a re-run of our Finest Hour?