It's Friday folks and still no sign of an end to Coronavirus.

 It's Friday folks and still no sign of an end to Coronavirus.

You'd have thought we'd be turning a corner but if anything there is nothing but deterioration, more hardship, much more struggling, head-scratching, fury, exasperation and no really clear indication as to when and how long this can possibly go on for. Since the beginning of Covid 19 we've arrived at so many false dawns and grim prognostications that you begin to wonder what Nostrodamus would have made of the current state of affairs. 

At this rate we may well have forgotten which year we're in, what time it is and when our next family visit is likely to be. Because yesterday we were given another bombshell as if we haven't received enough of them for the last six months. We are now adopting a genuine, wartime mentality where you feel sure air raid wardens will be employed late at night and the wailing sirens will become the predominant sound of the times. 

Yesterday, Boris Johnson, the Prime Minister barked out the ultimate warning. London should prepare for a long, hard winter but there will be no fighting on any Churchillian beach or landing grounds because we haven't got the appropriate ammunition to hit back against the hidden enemy. For hidden enemy is pretty much what the coronavirus is. Nobody can touch it, feel it or smell it. It's a rampant disease and virus that George Orwell would probably have given us ample warning about.

Tomorrow, London, the South East and the Midlands will be declared a lockdown zone yet again. Oh no surely not. This has gone too far. Our tolerance threshold has been tested to the limit and we may be tempted to storm the barricades which may not be the wisest course of action. But what on earth is going on here? We're told to be on our guard because the virus is still out there but this time London, the capital city, has once again fallen victim to the dreaded disease, the disease that can kill quite mercilessly if let loose in the wrong catchment area. 

Once again Saturday night will not be the night to party, to let ourselves go, abandoning ourselves to wild drinking, carousing and cavorting, singing around pub pianos, kicking up our feet and doing the Conga around the back streets of suburbia as if we all have a divine right to enjoy ourselves. But no, the West End of London will once again be haunted by ghosts and apparitions in dark alleyways and probably the heart of theatreland in Shaftesbury Avenue where the showbusiness fraternity used to tread the boards.

Now though the closed and shut signs are still as disturbingly prominent as ever. Those darling, venerable old theatres which date back endearingly to the middle of the Victorian era, are now just handsome buildings that look tired, fed up and maybe disillusioned. For the last six months not a single penny has passed through the box office coffers and we are constantly reminded of the gravity of their plight. If this goes on for much longer, Drury Lane, the London Palladium, the Strand and many others may have to close for good. 

We knew this would happen because the lack of any kind of financial support had to take its toll. The theatrical community was bound to take a painful hit if only because the public pay for their tickets and the collateral damage was somehow inevitable. Take away the public with no audience and those spectacular musicals have now been reduced to busker status where a plucky guitarist sits in a railway station trying desperately to earn a crust. So where do we go from here?. 

This is clearly beyond a joke. Tomorrow evening nobody will be allowed to visit their brothers, sisters, cousins, aunties, uncles, family and friends because we simply can't and that's a bitter pill to swallow. So forget about those dinner parties, cheese and wine assemblies, coffee and cake for a dozen or more since it's out of the question, strictly forbidden. You must not cross the line, flood the pavements of London, line up outside clubs because the management will have one or two words if you do so and besides those clubs are just boarded up and very solitary structures, crying and weeping privately you suspect.

There is definitely an air of victimisation in dear old Britain and now London. What, they may understandably think, have they done to deserve this? It's not even as if the human race has done anything wrong although perhaps we have and nobody told us. We go about our daily lives, keep our noses clean, never step out of line, always look at our best and generally conduct ourselves in a respectable fashion. 

What really does baffle us is the insistence of this coronavirus, its blatant disregard for human feelings and, above all, its never- ending longevity. You feel sure that Covid 19 may be seeking a place in the Guinness Book of Records. At first we thought this was just some brief flu epidemic that, if we all took some Paracetemol, would disappear in a couple of days. Then we discovered that it was much more ominous and then self evidently deadly on a now pandemic scale. 

So tomorrow night you'll have to forsake that birthday party at Uncle Jim or that family get together at Cousin Neil because the laws have been imposed and you're staying at home. Do you hear? This is not the time for feasting, culinary noshing or dancing rhythmically across the floor in front of the vol au vents and the multi-flavoured crisps. It's Saturday night and you must not under any circumstances, have fun. You must obey those stifling strictures because if you don't do as you're told the local police will be paying swift visits to your home and slapping punitive fines on your property. Just be prepared. 

There can be no room for levity or merriment, sharing ancient jokes or sharing jovial observations about Donald Trump's hair or accordion impressions. So folks if you happen to be in the West End of London or anywhere where there may be signs of life and activity now is the time for pulling up the drawbridge. Get back inside that home and don't come out until you're told that the coast is clear. It's lockdown time again folks. This is not a severe punishment but although we are on the verge of another weekend, that doesn't mean you can go gallivanting about the streets with beer bottles in your hand and behaving disgracefully. Sadly Covid 19 isn't going anywhere soon so just be good to each other and stay safe. And just keep calm.