It was a wet Wednesday when we set off at 4.30 am to take Will to university in Liverpool. The map on the phone said it would take four and a half hours. We were wedged in like sardines as the car was overflowing with his belongings. Fortunately, there were no hold ups, and the traffic was a constant flow, so we arrived in plenty of time for our 10 am slot to move him in. The trip up there, although much smoother, was a microcosm of the long journey leading up to getting there.
Back towards the end of February Will fell ill, around the time that the Coronavirus was beginning to get a hold on the country. A week or so before my husband, Jason, and I had the flu. We both felt dreadful, with awful coughs and were struggling to breathe which now makes us wonder if we had it without knowing. Will had such a high temperature that just by being close by I could feel the heat emanating from him. Consequently we had to isolate for two weeks. At that point we had no idea that he would never return to school. When we went into lock down it was a shock and I felt for him and all the other kids who didn’t have any closure after spending fourteen years of their short lives, since they were four years old, learning, and constantly being assessed in the build up to their A-Levels.
Once the fiasco surrounding the exam results began to unfold Will became anxious, particularly as he hadn’t done very well in his mocks. Like many kids, he didn’t have an inkling that he wouldn’t have the opportunity to actually take his exams. The government properly threw A-Level students under the bus with their decisions, U-turns and bullshit. The news kept on changing up until Results Day. When that morning finally came Will nervously tried to get on the UCAS website, but it continually crashed. Frustrated he headed to school to discover he had been awarded B B C (not what his teachers gave him and lower than he was predicted). Also, to his huge relief, he found out that he had got into his first choice course at Liverpool despite not getting the grades they had originally asked for. As we celebrated with fizz I saw the remnants of worry, fear and stress that had been plaguing him melt away, replaced by excitement.
He waited and waited for the university to get in touch and give him a moving in date which eventually transpired as the 30th of September, a month and a half later, and we began collecting bits and pieces together and stacking them up ready. During this time, news reporters were constantly reporting on Covid spikes in various places, particularly up north. This became increasingly worrying as the advice kept changing around rules and lock downs. Every day during the final week before we left there was doubt about whether he would actually be able to get there. There was a possibility that the government were going to put a stop to students going as Liverpool had rising numbers of cases.
Amid all this uncertainty Will had applied for his accommodation. He had chosen modest halls, in the city near the university, with no frills; where he would share a kitchen, lounge and two bathrooms with six other people and live like a normal student. He couldn’t wait after being stuck at home for six months and barely seeing anyone. He had carefully budgeted and worked out that after paying for his room he would have £150 per month to live on for the rest of the year, which obviously wasn’t enough, but he was hoping to get a job up there to supplement this. Once he knew he was going, he joined an employment agency and got a job in a warehouse, working nights, and managed to save £1000. I am extremely proud of him for doing that as he didn’t enjoy it, and although we didn’t know it then, without it he wouldn’t have been able to go. Unfortunately instead of the money he had saved being extra so that he could have some meals out and fun he was let down by the university. It took Will over a week, after the site went live, to get the information about where he was going to live as it kept crashing. When he eventually managed to get on it he was upset to find that the halls he had applied for were not available. Instead he was offered a place in a newly constructed student village a forty five minute walk from the city, meaning that he would need a bus pass costing £350. He was dismayed to work out that after paying for these halls all that was left from his student loan would be £100 for the whole year as they cost £3000 more than the ones he applied for.
I urged him to send an email explaining his situation which he did. And when he didn’t receive a reply I telephoned them to complain. After I explained his predicament, they basically said there wasn’t much they could do as there simply wasn’t enough of the cheaper accommodation and that unfortunately this happens every year. My reply was that surely if this is happening year after year then the university need to put something in place to change it. They said they would put him on a waiting list as students usually change rooms so he could probably get a room in a different place. Consequently we had more uncertainty and waiting but absolutely nothing happened and we never heard from them again so he had to accept the expensive one. It was sad as it soured the experience and Will began to feel anxious again.
I am furious about this. Universities are such big businesses now there seems to be no thought for student welfare. Instead it’s all about the money. I suspect that this year, due to the virus, there will be fewer foreign students coming from overseas so they are forcing first years into the more expensive halls to recoup the money they have spent on building them. When I asked the accommodation people on the phone how he was expected to live on £150 for the year they said they didn’t know and suggested that he went into private accommodation. I argued that he should have the opportunity to have the halls experience and was being penalised for being poor. They did not have any answers.
Since March it has been a series of ups and downs and we have been on an emotional roller coaster so to finally be driving through Liverpool was thrilling. Having never been there before I was unsure what to expect and was pleasantly surprised particularly as we began driving through Toxteth which I’d heard of on the news many years before as there had been riots back in the 80s. Will’s degree is in Town Planning, so we had a conversation about regeneration of areas. This was a perfect example of somewhere that had been severely run down; three storey Georgian houses sit back from the road partly hidden by leafy trees lining the wide avenues. Turning off into Greenbank Road we finally arrived at our destination. His halls are only two years old. Positioned in the grounds of the Greenbank Estate, the large house rests proudly in front of ponds where water from fountains form arcs over the water lilies.
The setting was stunning despite it pouring down as we loaded his stuff onto trolleys and wheeled them along a wide path flanked by lush green lawns. Will was given a key card and I could tell how delighted he was to be finally seeing his new flat for the first time. Everyone was wearing masks and we had to queue to get into the foyer and wait for the lift. The buildings are situated around a large courtyard and have been tastefully designed, so that although they are modern, they still look pleasant and fit in with the surrounding gardens.
The entrance hall smelt of fresh paint as we manoeuvred the trolleys round corners holding on to boxes and bags that were threatening to fall and spill the contents. Upstairs Will opened the door to his new life and we entered a long hallway with seven bedrooms leading off it. He found his room and we began to unload everything while he went into the kitchen and met his new flat mate, the only one who had moved in so far, although all seven of them had been talking on Facebook. His room was small, but he was happy because it had a double bed and its own en suite bathroom – a novelty. It was painted white except for the wall behind the bed which for some unknown reason was the most disgusting shade of luminous, lime green.
We all went out to get the rest of his bits from the car, but I realised that I had forgotten my coat. Will turned round to open the door and a look of panic crossed his face as he realised he had left the key card inside. I shook my head in despair. We’d only been there ten minutes! Fortunately, there was a kind cleaning lady outside called Annie who came to our rescue and let him back in. She was lovely and chatty with a strong Liverpudlian accent. She reassured Will that he was going to love Liverpool. I’m hopeful that he’ll remember his key card every time now as he’s had that initial shock. There were no more dramas, so we went shopping and bought him food to last a couple of weeks. Then we wandered around the docks, admiring the architecture, shivering in the drizzling rain. We watched the ferry cross the Mersey before sheltering and having a delicious lunch in a small Mexican restaurant.
Back at his halls we parked, and he got out of the car. Leaving him there was strange. I had mixed feelings; partly relief that he was finally there after all the doubts about him going but also not wanting to let him go. We hugged and as I watched him walk down the road I cried. Although he’s six foot he suddenly seemed small and vulnerable. This was a poignant moment. As parents we bring our kids up to the point where they become independent – because that is what we want for them – to become their own person and be an adult. But once they’ve gone they’re never quite the same. He’ll still be Will, but the dynamics will be different. I know this because of his brothers and sister leaving before him. When they come back for Christmas they are the same people, but different. The time they spend making their own decisions, living their lives, and having to deal with diversity changes them. I have no doubt it makes them better people, but it is odd to no longer be needed in the same way. Having been a full time parent for 33 years I feel bereft. As I was a child myself when I had Joel, I have grown up with my kids and being a mother is all I’ve ever known.
I also cried because we dropped him off in a city dripping with Corona Virus. Liverpool is one of the worst hit cities in the country. We went to an Asda on the way home to get petrol and use the toilet and wished we hadn’t as it felt like the virus was everywhere. In Devon most of the supermarkets are taking some precautions around social distancing in some way but that definitely wasn’t the case in the shop we visited there. It was heaving, and although people were wearing masks, it was so packed we had to weave our way through a crowd. I was panicking about touching anything and back in the car Jason said he felt the same. It was a relief to get home. The whole trip took fourteen hours.
When I began writing this I decided to do some research on where Will is living. I discovered that Greenbank House was once the summer dwelling of the Rathbone family and was built in the early 18th century. Alterations were carried out in 1809 resulting in a substantial part of the house being rebuilt as a Gothic villa in the style of ‘Strawberry Hill’ – a house built by Horace Walpole in London in 1762. Greenbank house has a cast iron screen which formed a veranda and housed a balcony above. It remained the family home for generations of Rathbones until 1944 when it was bequeathed to the University of Liverpool. Interestingly, William Rathbone, a member of the family, worked with Florence Nightingale and regarded her as a close friend. And he created the system of district nursing, the very first in the world. He was also one of the founders of Liverpool University.
He had a daughter named Eleanor who, like her father, was a social reformer. She was also a suffragette and she campaigned against the Nazis. She worked tirelessly as a pioneer to ensure that Family Allowance money was paid directly to women in order to give them a modicum of control. She was also a councillor for 25 years.
I feel that these two mavericks would be turning in their graves if they knew how little regard the university seems to have for the health and well being of their students. Particularly for this cohort who are studying in the middle of a world pandemic. After being given the generous gift of this huge estate the business managers made the decision to build hordes of flats, no doubt at a great cost to them. Consequently, they are extortionately priced; and they can argue that they can charge this amount of rent because the setting and flats are attractive, they all have en suite bathrooms and there is a huge gym available to use which is included in the price – although this is shut at present due to Covid restrictions. I don’t believe students need ponds and fountains and en suite bathrooms. If they choose to have them and can afford to pay for them then that is a personal choice; however, Will did not choose to live there and cannot afford to. Fortunately, Jason’s parents very generously rewarded Will for working hard prior to leaving and saving up the money to live on while he’s studying. They kindly matched the amount he had saved which is not a small amount of money to them, nor us and it’s a lifesaver for Will.
Apparently every one of his housemates also put in for cheaper accommodation and were stitched up by the university. I am fuming because really it means that university is not accessible to anyone whatever background you come from. Universities are always trying to promote the idea that they are appealing to those from deprived or poorer social backgrounds but it’s a lie. In fact what they are doing is screwing over 18 year old kids and raking in huge amounts of cash in the middle of a health crisis. There is no thought for their mental health. Will is being charged excessive fees: £9000 to sit in a small room that is costing £6000 and have lectures online. They are told to go into online break out rooms, where everyone is too self-conscious to speak as they’ve never met, and discuss questions. At least they’re all in the same boat I suppose.
Back in Devon we’ve been keeping in touch with Will through FaceTime. Two weeks in, and socially, he seems to be having the time of his life. People keep asking me what it’s like for him up there as restrictions on going out are being put into place by the government. The rules say that you can’t go into a pub and drink; however, according to Will, the majority of pubs have enormous seating areas outside. His favourite place where all the students hang out is called Concert Square. After living in a sleepy Devon village for his whole life, Will has adapted to city life with ease. He was desperate to leave, particularly as he had spent seven months not going anywhere because of lock down. He really likes his housemates and it sounds like they are all getting on well. He is the only one from down south as they are all northerners. One of the guys is a local so has shown them round and introduced them to all the best spots. As a result of the restrictions, all the pubs have to shut at 10 pm. Will sent me a photograph as he was leaving which made me do an Edward Munch ‘Scream’ impression when I saw it. It reminded me of New Year’s Eve in Trafalgar Square. As a consequence of the pubs shutting everyone was leaving at the same time. Flocks of drunk people spilling out on the street standing cheek by jowl. It was as if no one had ever heard of Corona Virus or social distancing or masks.
It has now been three weeks since I started writing this. The first week was strange and I found passing his empty bedroom difficult. I went to the supermarket one day and while walking down the orange juice aisle I got a lump in my throat and my eyes filled up because I didn’t have to buy any for him. It hit me then how far away he is. As the days went on we began to get used to the house staying tidy, the quietness and having food in the fridge.
This week – week three – has been trying. For Will, the euphoria has worn off as Liverpool is back in lock down and he was feeling ill with all the Covid symptoms. He phoned to say his throat was hurting, he felt hot and fluey and couldn’t taste anything. The following day he was worse and had a Covid test. When he sent the photograph of the positive test result I was shocked. I thought he probably did have it but actually seeing it written down was horrible. Despite knowing that he’s young, fit and healthy and logically he will be all right, I went to pieces. It’s times like this that make one realise what good friends they have. I was overwhelmed with messages of support sent to me as well as wine and chocolate delivered to my door. The following morning at work I was all over the place and crying in the staff room because I felt so helpless. I just wanted to go up and see him, give him a hug and look after him. My colleagues were wonderfully supportive and helped me through the day, so I feel incredibly fortunate to have such positivity in the midst of all this turmoil.
Will has now been in Liverpool for three and a half weeks and when I spoke to him yesterday he said he’s feeling much better. Today he is allowed out of quarantine for the first time. He sent me a picture of Sefton Park which is enormous and a two minute walk from where he lives. He said it was fantastic to breathe fresh air again.
I’m hoping that things will calm down now and he can begin studying. I’m also relieved it’s half term as I am emotionally exhausted and need to recharge my batteries for work next week.
Love, Life and Lemons 