n early April, frontline workers including a bus driver, a care home manager and a cemetery worker spoke to the Guardian about their experiences during the coronavirus pandemic. Two weeks later we checked in to hear how they had been coping with the peak of the virus. Now, another month on, with lockdown restrictions easing, we catch up with the workers to see how things have changed. The Childline supervisor, the Midlands There’s been a reduction in some of the hoax calls we get. Normally we get lots of groups of kids calling up because they’re bored. Even if they’re winding us up, we never get angry, because sometimes they’re testing the service to see what our reaction would be if they later called up, seriously, with a problem. There’s less of that since the lockdown, because the groups of kids aren’t together. We’re still getting sexualised calls, where people ring up and masturbate on the phone. I think they ring us because most of our call handlers are female. We got sent Easter eggs for every volunteer and member of staff as a gift from a luxury chocolate company. Another place sent us boxes of hand gel because we couldn’t source it, and sent a lovely letter, which really gave a boost to the volunteers and reminded them they’re being thought about. You can feel a bit left behind – you see rainbows and the Thursday round of applause, and that feels like it’s for the NHS, but there are other [key workers] out there. We had one child say that when they clap, they would clap for us. That was overwhelming – it keeps you going. The bus driver, south-east England It seems like the lockdown has completely and utterly ended over the past couple of weeks. I passed a group of elderly ladies at the bus stop, all huddled together like they would have been a year ago. I mentioned it to them but they just chuckled – it went in one ear and out of the other. So far we’ve managed to dodge a bullet because the number of people getting on buses is so low, but the bus company have said that from 1 June there’ll be lots of overtime available, so it seems like they’re planning to go back to normal service from then. That’s also when many of the schools will start reopening, but I’m worried about the implications of working on those buses doing school routes. Instead of six or seven passengers for a journey, there could be 60 or 70 schoolkids, and I do the trip from the housing estates to the schools three times each morning. I’m now actively looking for another job. My partner is at high risk and we’ve been doing everything we can – following all the protocol, taking shoes off at the door, even washing every bit of shopping that comes in with hot water and bleach. But if my exposure to potential carriers increases tenfold or more, we’re really going to have to reappraise what I do. The care home manager, Scotland I’m still living at the care home from Monday to Friday, but I’m in the last free room and we might have someone moving in, so I might have to move. I think I’m going to borrow my mum’s camper van and park it at the home. I don’t mind as long as I’ve got somewhere to sleep. I just like to think I’m here if there are any issues. We still don’t have any cases in the home, and spirits are still really high. Everybody’s exhausted, but the atmosphere of the home is keeping us going. We’re fine for PPE; I don’t really know how our stocks are so good. I just keep over-ordering through my suppliers, and some weeks they don’t have enough, but we take what we can get. I feel sorry for other homes where things aren’t going so well. It’s terrifying when you hear of homes with lots of deaths. I think the problem is that a lot of them are too regimented. There’s a mindset that you have to treat your staff like rubbish to get good work. For me, “strict protocol” reads like they don’t trust staff, with bosses hanging over your shoulder pointing at everything you’re doing. Now I have my own home, we encourage staff to come to us with ideas. Our protocols are strict but staff know what they’re doing. The supermarket worker, Cumbria About three weeks ago everything went haywire; people seemed to get fed up of confinement. We saw a huge increase in trade, and that’s gone further through the roof since Boris Johnson relaxed restrictions. Customers are coming in to buy just one fruit scone, or browsing and not buying anything at all. At the moment, 24 bottles at a time is the average for buying booze. We’ve added 20ft of extra space for alcohol, with plans for further extension, but we just can’t get the stock back in for it. People really believe that since Johnson told everyone to stay alert [instead of staying home], it’s all over. It was like a carte blanche from him to go back to normal. I think people also believe that if they haven’t had it now, they’re safe. Other customers think they’ve had the virus and that’s a licence to go back to normal. There’s no social distancing, no sense of decorum. Customers aren’t staying two inches away, let alone two metres. We’ve had to erect safety barriers around staff doing price reductions to keep them from getting mobbed. The pressure has reached boiling point. The delivery driver, Somerset We’re still working absolutely flat out. We can do anywhere up to 18 drops in a 10-hour shift. But I feel more appreciated than I did before all this happened. It used to be: “Where’s my shopping? You’re late,” and now people appreciate that you’re putting yourself out there. There’s still some people who are completely oblivious [to physical distancing]. I say I’ll leave it and walk back, and they’re already reaching into the bags. Where’s the two-metre distance? You feel horrible, but you have to ask them to stand back. There’s still only hand gel; we don’t have any masks or gloves. It’s very unnerving and frustrating: I don’t want to catch anything or bring anything home to my wife or child. A few drivers have masks that they’ve bought themselves, but apparently other supermarkets are giving their drivers masks and gloves. It’s a big peeve. Drivers are talking to each other and saying: have you seen this? At the front of the store there’s a manager operating a one in, one out system, it’s all good. But behind the scenes it’s not. There’s no social distancing, as well as no PPE. At the back of the store, that the public doesn’t see, it’s a completely different picture. The postal worker, south-east England It’s strange seeing cars out on the streets. There was definitely a resurgence after Boris Johnson’s announcement about easing the lockdown. My 80-year-old neighbour has just started going out this week. The job is OK, lockdown has become normalised and some of the sweeter things I saw a month ago are not there any more. People just aren’t trying as hard with each other, we’re going back to usual patterns and routines. There was a lot of support out there initially but that’s fizzled out a bit. It’s been a very strange time at the depot. There was a decision taken to stop Saturday postal deliveries and that came as a shock to the workforce. Apparently it will be reinstated after lockdown, but we’re worried that won’t happen and that there could be job losses because of it. The company said they took the decision for our wellbeing, but what’s happening is the Saturday post gets backed up and has to be delivered the following week. It feels more precarious than it did before. Something I noticed a few weeks ago is that everyone was outside for leisure and the energy was much lighter. It’s been nice to have that freedom. Now it’s stifled, people are going back to work and Covid-19 is hanging over them like an invisible threat. The atmosphere has changed. The cemetery worker, London I was stressed by the number of days I was doing and then there was a problem at work and I just had to take some time off. The week before I left it got really mad and we were doing seven or eight burials a day. It was so intense, there was no time to eat. Overall the atmosphere isn’t a good one. All the compassion and empathy is gone from funerals. The families are frustrated because it’s not a proper funeral and the undertakers are stressed because families aren’t always adhering to the new rules. There’s a wrongness to everything when people can’t get close to each other. Before I stopped working, I was getting more and more upset. I kept telling my colleagues how sick I was of everything. I wasn’t pleasant to be around at all. One of my housemates is a nurse and she’s reached the point I was at three weeks ago: she hates everything and everyone. It’s been strange being off. At first I had nothing, I was so frazzled. You feel numb. There’s not much to talk about at the end of the day. I’ve been gardening a lot and that’s really helped. I’m planning to go back to work next week but I’ve decided to start looking for a new job.