Coronavirus in Hove: ‘I’m trying to be less scared … worry won’t keep us safe’

This month marked the first time I’ve ever been to a queue-free post office, and been served by a man wearing gloves in the service station. “We’ve been told to use antibacterial gel every half hour too,” he told me. Supermarkets are quieter than usual, but with no signs of panic buying – unless hand sanitiser counts. “I went to five shops and couldn’t find any,” a neighbour texted me. Dozens of people are “self-isolating”, and it’s a risky place for secret affairs because of the chance everyone you’ve been in touch with will need tracing.

This is life at the centre of the UK coronavirus breakout, Hove. I’d like to pretend that I’ve been brave, but it wouldn’t be true. I found the outbreak four streets away of a virus that had at that point killed hundreds of people in China alarming. The anxiety I felt came in waves, sending my maternal protectiveness into overdrive.

My response to Covid-19 was an almost overwhelming desire to scoop up my two-year-old daughter Astrid and nine-month-old son Xavier and keep them safe. My fears were exacerbated because my son has a heart condition which makes him vulnerable. And I’m a solo mum, so there’s no spare adult on hand in an emergency. Our family moved to Hove a year ago, lured by the sea and the wonderful community where children are in and out of each other’s houses all the time. I wanted Astrid and Xavi to feel safe playing out as they grew up. I didn’t expect to face this. But it’s the strength of our community that has saved me in my worst moments of panic.

I’m lucky that I bumped into Emma, a nurse living on my street, who reminded me, kindly, that I was calm about common flu, despite it being more prevalent. That another neighbour, Lisa, reassured me she was sure it was under control. That my phone buzzed with people checking in, and my mum offering help. That my brother and sister-in-law repeatedly explained that I was miscalculating risk. That my friend Lucinda sent sweets in case we were told to self-isolate. That my MP Peter Kyle has been brilliant, measured and present, chatting to residents rather than letting fears grow in the silence: acknowledging constituents’ worries and calming panic.

At the nursery where my children go twice a week and take trips to the beach, park and forest, staff created “corona policy”. They took time to reassure me how swiftly they’d tell parents if someone was asked to self-isolate, and contacted Public Health England to ask about extra measures to protect Xavi.

Concerned parents of older children have been keeping them at home, with a total of nine schools across the region authorising absences because of having a pupil or teacher in isolation. A neighbour told me that at one local school, which has been surrounded by media since Tuesday, nine out of 30 children were in reception class on Thursday, while classes for older children were about half full.

Related: What is coronavirus and what should I do if I have symptoms?

The parents I spoke to felt the schools were doing a good job of educating pupils about the virus, teaching children to cough and sneeze into their arms rather than hands and high-five with elbows to avoid spreading germs. One asked children to bring in hand sanitiser and tissues, while another’s assembly included the CBeebies doctors’ explanation of why coronavirus may not be as scary as it sounds. Depressingly, yet another school had to write to parents and pupils warning that racism towards the Chinese community in its classrooms would not be tolerated.

As last week wore on, my panic eased. I don’t know whether it was the lull in new confirmed cases locally, or my body being too tired to sustain the heightened anxiety. Pragmatism took over: we were short on nappies and bread. I was relaxed enough to take my children to the park and shops, but I delayed a non-urgent hospital appointment for my son, to be extra safe.

My neighbour told me her daughter and a group of pals had organised a collection for their classmate, the daughter of recovered coronavirus victim Steve Walsh. The whole family have tested negative, but last week she was still in isolation. They’ve bought her a Brighton and Hove Albion T-shirt with her name embroidered on it, ready for when she returns to school.

So now I’m following the example of a group of primary-school children whose empathy and bravery I admire, and trying to be less scared. Because worry isn’t helping to keep any of us safe.