56 Days by Catherine Ryan Howard

Author's Note

The first case of COVID-19 was reported in Ireland on February 29th, 2020: a male who had traveled to an affected area of Italy returned here with the virus. On March 9th, all upcoming St. Patrick’s Day events were canceled and on March 12th, it was announced that schools, childcare facilities, and cultural institutions would close. These were joined by bars and restaurants three days later.

The first “lockdown” was announced on March 27th. At the time, we didn’t know it would only be the first or that it would stretch well into the summer. Initially, we were told it would last for two weeks. All nonessential journeys were banned. All nonessential workers had to remain at home. There was to be no mixing with people who didn’t live with you and vulnerable people had to “cocoon” in their homes. In essence, the message was: stay at home except to purchase food or to take brief, individual exercise within a 2 km radius of your residence. On April 8th, with Easter weekend looming, An Garda Síochána launched Operation Fanacht (Stay) to ensure compliance with a new law under the Health Act 1947: Section 31A—Temporary Restrictions (COVID-19) Regulations 2020. Breaches could incur a fine of up to 2,500 euro or even a jail sentence. Two days later, on April 10th, lockdown was extended for a further three weeks.

I spent this time alone in a tiny studio apartment in Dublin city center that had a bed that came down from the wall. (Yes, just like Ciara’s. My apartment was much, much nicer though!) I rewatched Lost and built LEGO and baked banana bread and had Zoom cocktails and posted Instagram stories and got the idea for this book. (You can still watch those Instagram stories in a “Lockdown” highlight on my account, @cathryanhoward.) I didn’t have to worry about home-schooling or losing my job or vulnerable relatives, and I was grateful for that every single day. Also, as a card-carrying introvert, there was a part of me that liked having to cancel everything and stay at home. But still, as time went on, I started to go more than a little stir-crazy.

On May 1st, our government announced a phased plan for reopening the country that would see schools remain closed until September and restrictions gradually lifting, beginning on May 18th. For now, the “lockdown” would remain in place, except for one concession: from May 5th, the 2 km-radius exercise limit would increase to 5 km. I had steadfastly followed the rules from day one and so had not been to the beach (4 km from my door) since restrictions began. Come Tuesday morning, I set an early alarm and was at the water’s edge on a very cold and windy Sandymount Strand by eight a.m.—yes, just like Ciara.

In the early days of this pandemic, many writers took to social media and elsewhere to vow that they would never write about this in their books, that once this was over no one, including them, would ever want to think about it again. But back then, we had no idea that this event would change the world. And while I was locked down in Dublin, I had an idea for a story about a couple locked down in Dublin, for whom the strange, isolating circumstances of this new and uncertain world was just the opportunity they were waiting for—and I wanted to write it, so I did.

Across what turned out to be three lockdowns, these characters kept me company. My hope is that in a brighter, more hopeful world, their story has entertained you.

Dublin, Ireland

January 2021