Author: Tom

Today has been a very busy day.

While I was at the seaside a week or two or three ago, I collected a lot of seashells.

At first I was just using them for decorating sand-castles.

But then I realised that they were the very thing to bring back as souvenirs for my friends.

So after I’d got home, and had a good sleep to get over all the cycling and the excitement, I put the shells in a bag and set off with the Baby to deliver them to my friends.

I didn’t want to worry them. I made it clear that I wasn’t expecting to come inside their houses.

I put their shell on the doorstep and stood back. Or two shells, in the case of two friends at the same address.

The Baby was very good. I think it likes being out of doors.

We called on Ted and Lopsy. They’ve moved into a new flat, so of course we had to go inside the building to get to their front door.

I’d forgotten to bring my mask, so I held my breath while I was in there.

Teddy opened the door when I rang the bell, and then dashed back two metres. He nearly knocked Lopsy over.

Whoooo. Now we’re outside I can breathe again.

They didn’t notice that I was holding my breath. 

Hang on a minute, Baby, just let me breathe for a minute. In. Out. In. Out. Ah, lovely air!

Don’t cry any more, Baby. Lopsy is a very nice tiger, you don’t need to be frightened of her.

That’s it, no more crying.

But oh dear. I thought Ted and Lopsy would be pleased to have me back.

Why don’t they want to see me this week or next week, or some time soon? Why wait till after Christmas?

Right, Baby, this is Walrus’s house. We don’t have to go indoors here.

I’ll put the shell down so I don’t have to hand it to him. I think I can hear him coming.

Goodness, Walrus is very organised.

We went round all my friends’ houses. It was lovely to see them all again.

I think they’ve missed me while I was away.

Though they all seemed to be talking about Christmas. I suppose being stuck indoors because of the Virus, they have to look forward to the next excitement, even if it is a long way off.

They were pleased with my shells, and my bag got lighter and lighter.

But the Baby got heavier and heavier, and by the time I got to my sister Jenny’s house, I just had to take it off and give my shoulders a rest.

Ah, that’s better. It’s only a little Baby, but it does get to feel quite heavy after a while.

Tomorrow? I don’t think that can be right.

I’ve only just got back from my summer holiday.

But if it’s getting anywhere near Christmas, I ought to be tucked away in my cosy cupboard.

Though I suppose that may not be possible this year.

Hello? What? I’m asleep!

Well, I was asleep.

Hello Baby!

Wouldn’t you like to lie down next to me for a bit, and I’ll just have another snooze?

No? All right, I’m getting up.

I suppose you think it’s breakfast time, eh?

Just give me a minute to get dressed. I know the badge that I need for today.

I wonder if there’s any food in the house.

We can always open a tin. Condensed milk, the very thing.

No, Baby, don’t lick the lid! It’s sharp!

Tasty, eh?

Now Baby, where’s your Mummy? She might like to have something to eat too.

I hope I haven’t been asleep too long.

Um! Um! Are you awake?

I wonder where she is.

Oh well, I’ll have a quick look at the post. I saw a lot of mail on the doormat when I got home last night. Or whatever night it was.

A pizza ad. A letter from the doctor. A letter from the Council. Another pizza ad.

A postcard from Viol Teddy!

I think it’s a picture of a Black Welsh cow, but the background looks more like Pakistan, or maybe India. So perhaps it’s a Black Indian cow.

Oops, better save Viol Teddy’s news for later.

I’ll find something safe for the Baby to play with while I put those scraps together again.

Please, Baby, let me have the bits.

It seems to have a picture of the sun… and a bird.

That reminds me that I completely forgot to say hello to our Stork when I got home from my trip. Or to the cuckoos. Well, it was the middle of the night.

I’ll go now and… Oh! They’ve gone!

The Stork isn’t on his hook,

and the cuckoos aren’t in, or on, their clock.

Of course, the weather is getting a bit cold now. I suppose they’ve flown off to a better, warmer, place.

The Stork said that he migrates to Mali every winter. I expect it’s lovely and warm there now.

When I was away, I couldn’t remember whether I’d said goodbye to them before I set off on my travels.

So I sent them one of my first postcards.

Let’s see what this letter says.

Oh Baby, have you eaten some of it?

Never mind. I think we’ve still got most of it.

Speak of the devil! Here’s a picture of the stork and the cuckoos flying off to the sunshine. Then they fly back to some daffodils.

I think the teddy is meant to be me. I see that the writer of the message rubbed that bit out a few times, probably trying to get a better likeness.

Lucky it’s not written in Bambara, or Songhay, or Syenara, or Tamasheq, because I wouldn’t be able to read that.

But I can understand this. I think it means “We’re off to the sunshine now, see you in the spring”.

Oh, Baby, what are you doing! Come down!

It’s up on the Stork’s hook. How ever did it get all the way up there?

I really don’t think I can climb up to get it down. I’ll put something soft underneath, that’s all I can do.

I’d better leave the rest of the post for later.

I know what we’ll do.

I’ll find the seashells that I brought home for my friends, and the Baby and I can go and deliver them.

Come on Baby, we’re going for a walk!

I hope its mother will have woken up by the time we get back again.

This is Ruffy again.

We were hoping that Tom would be up and about by now, and would get back to doing the blogging himself.

But he doesn’t seem to have woken up yet.

Of course his expedition must have been very tiring. I felt tired just looking at the map that Ellie made of his travels.

You can’t see much of the map itself, under all those postcards and sticky labels, but he cycled hundreds of miles.

Somehow he didn’t manage to find the seaside in Hampshire, Dorset, Devon, Cornwall, Somerset, Sir Fynwy, or Glamorgan, but eventually he did reach a lovely beach in Norfolk.

He camped in the dunes, and swam in the sea, and dug in the sand, so finally he’d achieved his aim, and was able to set off home again.

You can see that that would all be quite tiring.

But he seems to have acquired new responsibilities, so he’d better wake up soon.

He’s brought home a friend and her baby. He met them at the seaside.

The friend isn’t very well, but what with Covid, and the lockdown, it’s difficult to find out what she might need, or how to help her.

Strawberry took some spinach round to Tom’s house.

I thought I’d give Jenny a ring. Being Tom’s sister, she may feel less awkward than little Strawberry about going into his house without being invited.

Jenny said she’d go round and see what she could do.

So I got on with sorting the music for my musical-box.

Here’s a nice one. I’ll see if I can play it well enough to put it on the Zoom Ensemble page.

I’m trying to wind it steadily.

I think it will be easier when Bimbo can conduct us all.

Oh, there’s the phone. Maybe it’s Jenny, reporting back.

I just hope Tom hasn’t got into hibernation mode.

If he has, we may not be able to wake him till next spring.

It’s me, Tom.

My friends say they’ve been keeping you up to date with my travels, and I think the Invisible Friend has already told you that I’m safe home, but I thought I’d better let you know that it really is true.

I’ve been on the road for more than two months.

Some of it was hard going, but it’s been a wonderful trip.

I never thought it would take me so long to find the seaside.

Now I am very very very tired.

I’ve just waved to all my friends on the Book Club Zoom call, and next I’m going to have a sleep.

See you when I wake up.

We’ll see.

I can reassure Tom’s friends that he is now safely back at home.

You may not hear from him straight away, because he was extremely tired when I left him.

I think he’s likely to sleep for several days.

So I thought I’d give you a quick report of how I got him home from the seaside.

I’m the Invisible Friend.

Jenny asked me to go and find him.

She told me exactly where he’d last been, on the north Norfolk coast.

We knew that he’d set off home, but he was pushing his bike, so obviously he wouldn’t be travelling very fast.

Lockdown was due to start at one minute past midnight on Thursday morning, and we didn’t want Tom to be picked up by the police, so I set off straight away.

I was tempted to use my old moon rocket (it’s a second-hand one). It’s always fun to travel at 25,000 mph.

But I knew that Greta wouldn’t approve of my using it for such a short journey. Or at all.

So I got out my Tesla Roadster (second generation – all electric).

Its top speed is supposed to be 250 mph, but because I’m so light I can go a little faster than that.

Don’t worry, I’m a very careful driver.

The Roadster seats four, but it doesn’t have a lot of room for luggage, so I planned to swap for something bigger once I knew exactly what, or who, Tom was bringing home with him.

I was soon at the seaside.

I found the place Jenny had directed me to, and got rid of the Roadster.

Then, still thinking of Greta, I refrained from using any of my aircraft, even the lightest ones, and made a quick kite from which to survey the surrounding roads and lanes.

Wednesday had been quite sunny, if you remember, and it was a fairly clear night.

There was a waning gibbous moon, and after a while my eyes got accustomed to the dark.

I launched the kite, tied it to the branch of a tree, and shimmied up the string.

Flying in rockets and aeroplanes and so on is a blast, but sailing quietly up there, no engine noise, no damage to the environment…

I think I could get to like this green thing.

Having no temperature of my own, I’m sensitive to heat changes around me, and I soon spotted a patch of warmth down below.

It was moving very slowly away from the sea.

I took on some ballast (luckily there’s always spare water in the air, even on a dry night) and lowered the kite till I could see more clearly.

There was Tom, pushing his bicycle along with a lot of luggage on it, and a big bundle on his back as well.

A friend was following him. Jenny had warned me that there might be a friend.

I jumped off the kite and left it for some child to find in the morning. Except perhaps children aren’t allowed to touch things that they find any more?

Tom introduced me to his friend, but she didn’t look well at all, so we didn’t try to have a conversation.

I think her name is Um. Perhaps it’s short for something.

Tom’s looking quite thin, but very cheerful.

After the kite experiment, I’d have liked to try some green way of getting them home, but I decided I’d better not keep Tom’s friend waiting while I experimented with folded paper.

Besides, the moment of Lockdown was approaching.

So I fetched my school bus. I thought it would be inconspicuous if we happened to be still on the road after Lockdown had officially started.

Tom and I loaded all his things.

All that cycling seems to have got him fit.

He had no problem heaving everything into the bus.

I used my invisible cap lamp to help us see what we were doing.

I was afraid I should have brought a bigger vehicle, but after we’d tied the bicycle to the back of the bus, it looked as though everything would just about squeeze in.

Tom said the luggage would make a comfortable nest for him and Um to sit in.

Then I had a surprise – Tom untied his backpack and in it was a baby!

Um had been too tired to carry it in her pouch.

I’d brought a flask of Ayurvedic Energy Tea, and I found some biscuits under the driver’s seat.

We all sat on Tom’s blanket, and Tom fed the baby on biscuit crumbs.

I was all set to hurry them back to Tom’s place, but Tom asked if we could just make a quick detour.

Nearly all the lights on the rides were switched off, but the baby did seem to enjoy gazing at the few that were still flashing and twinkling.

Um had fallen asleep, and we didn’t wake her, but we gave the baby a slow, careful ride on the roundabout.

I thought the baby looked a bit scared, but Tom says that’s just its normal look.

Then we had a last look at the sea, and got back into the bus.

Tom was tired too. He was asleep almost before I’d hit 100 mph.

We got back to his house just before lockdown started.

Then I had to hurry back to my own invisible house.

I could probably get away with being out of doors during lockdown, but research is still ongoing about whether invisible people can catch or transmit the Virus, so I’d better not risk it.

To get home in less than no time, I had to use my time machine.

I’m not quite ready to give up altogether on hi-tech travel.

Do feel free to call on me any time you need me.

Tom is still away at the seaside.

I’m his friend Teddy, with the latest news.

I’m afraid I missed a phone call from Tom.

I didn’t hear the phone ringing, because I was hoovering. Lopsy often tells me I hoover too much, and I think she’s right. If I hadn’t been hoovering, I could have spoken to Tom himself.

At least he has left a message, but it would have been good to talk to him.

Lopsy! Tom’s phoned! Come and listen to the message!

Jenny here, with some good news.

It’s more than a month since my brother Tom set off to cycle to the seaside.

He’s sent a few postcards, but we’re not sure where he is, or whether he’s all right.

We’ve all been very worried about him.

But I’ve just got an email, with pictures of Tom.

It’s from K. Tardigrade. I’ve never heard of her. Or him. Them.

It seems they’ve met Tom at the seaside and are kindly sending me news of him. They very thoughtfully put a reassuring heading, so that I wouldn’t panic.

Here’s the email:

Your brother is well
Dear Jenny
You don’t know me. I’m a knitted tardigrade in the late afternoon of my life.
I met your brother Tom when I was taking an evening walk by the seaside.
It was a delightful surprise to meet a friendly bear in pyjamas, admiring some late-flowering sea holly in the sand dunes.

We got talking (at a safe distance, of course), and we arranged to meet again the next day.
He’s quite a traveller! I heard that he’s been on the road for weeks.
He had eaten three of his tent-poles, and the fourth one had gone rather bendy.
We ate that one together, with quite a tasty samphire dip that I’d made, and then I fetched him another head of celery from the village shop, so he could set up his tent again.
Of course, being vulnerable, your brother shouldn’t go into shops.
But we tardigrades are extremely hardy. In fact, so far I haven’t heard of a single case of COVID-19 being recorded in a tardigrade.
But enough about me.

Tom said he was worried that he can’t get news to his friends at home because he’s run out of postage stamps.
So I’ve offered to email you, and send you these pictures, to prove that he really is at the seaside.

I didn’t think he would actually go in the water. It was quite rough, and very cold. But your brother is indomitable.

Here he is digging in the sand afterwards, to warm up.

He insisted I take a picture of him sun-bathing, to show you how warm it is here.
It’s true that it’s not quite as cold as you might expect towards the end of October, but it’s not what I myself would consider sun-bathing weather.

My holiday is now over, but your brother plans to spend one more day at the seaside before heading home.
I can assure you that when I saw him, Tom was fighting fit and in high spirits.
I’m sure you’ll be seeing him again very soon. And he’s bringing a sea-shell back for you, Jenny.
Yours
K. Tardigrade

What a kind person!

It sounds as though Tom is having a lovely seaside holiday. I’m so glad.

And he’s bringing me a sea shell! Dear Tom.

I hope it’s a very small light one, he must have got so much luggage on his bicycle.

I’ll ring Ruffy and let him know the news.

Oh dear, I wasn’t really listening to that. I can’t stop thinking about Tom.

I don’t think it’s safe for a small bear to be swimming in rough seas. Specially now that the tardigrade has left, so there’s no one around to call for help if Tom gets into difficulties.

He looks well in those pictures, but he is an elderly bear with underlying conditions. Can it be wise to be sleeping out of doors at this time of year?

And it does sound as though he’s not following all the advice about Distancing. Did he sanitise the celery, for instance, before incorporating it into his tent?

Supposing he’s caught the virus and is taken ill on a sand dune somewhere miles away from anywhere?

And even if he’s well, how is he going to find his way home?

I’d better see if a bit of drumming can take my mind off worrying about Tom.

It’s time I practised anyway.

Drumming always makes me feel calmer. But I will be glad when he’s home.

Tom is still away on his bicycle, trying to get to the seaside.

I’m Bimbo, catching you up on the latest news.

I had a postcard this morning. I suppose it’s from Tom.

It’s a funny fuzzy sort of picture of some birds and rabbits. I expect the card got wet and the ink smudged.

The message is in code. Does Tom think that someone is spying on him?

He says “No Mr Stumps”. I’ve never heard of any Mr Stumps. Probably an alias.

Is Tom having to hide from the authorities?

I’d better consult my friends. I’ll ask them to meet up on Zoom, and see what they make of it.

How does it work? Join… Invite… What am I supposed to do now?

Launch meeting. Yes, that worked. They’re all here.

(This is because we’re supposed to be working towards a Zoom Musical Ensemble, and I don’t know what will happen if people keep on taking up brand new instruments. Tom was doing very well on the triangle – his tone was really becoming quite pure and silvery. You can hear it on the Ensemble page.)

I’ve got my courgettes. And I think I’ve got a good idea. A nice film with lots of songs in it.

That’s nearly five minutes.

Yes, Ruffy’s ready. Oh, he’s using lots of props. I’ve only got my courgettes.

What film is that meant to be? Jaws, maybe?

Time to press this button!

I wish Tom was here. He’d enjoy a game like this.

Tom’s still away on his bike ride. This is Ellie, reporting on the latest Book Club meeting.

We meet on Zoom.

The topic this time was France.

Teddy’s been learning French since March, so he had suggested we talk about French books, and books set in France.

He brought The Little Prince and explained the little prince’s philosophy of life.

I brought all my Anatole books, about a cheese-tasting mouse in Paris.

Gibbs told us about the Red Balloon, and we watched a little bit of the film.

He and I had agreed before the meeting that we wouldn’t go on and on about our wonderful trip to Paris to find the places in the book, but I’ve promised him that I’ll mention it on the Book Club pages about French books.

But then Lopsy reminded us that at the last Book Club meeting, Tom had said that the Red Balloon was much too sad. And that made us all sad about Tom not being here.

We thought about the bad boys with their catapults, attacking Pascal’s red balloon, and it made us feel anxious about Tom.

Points tried to take our minds off our worries by talking about revolutionary politics, and A Tale of Two Cities.

But we all remembered about the ruthless Marquis, and the guillotine, and that made the world seem a very dangerous place, so we worried all the more.

Teddy had the good idea that Lopsy could recite one of the Madeline books to us to cheer us up.

She knows them all by heart, and they’re very jolly.

Everyone was sad and cross by now, and there was an argument about how to pronounce “Madeline”.

In the end I had to intervene as chairperson, and say that on this occasion we would rhyme the name with FINE, not FIN or FEN.

The first page of each of the books incudes the couplet “They left the house at half past nine – the smallest one was Madeline”, which I believe backs up my choice.

But I didn’t argue the case, I just said we could discuss it further another time.

But unfortunately Lopsy chose to tell us the story of Madeline and the Gypsies, and Points objected that the book is racist.

She says we shouldn’t use the word “gypsies”, and that the book promulgates the idea that all Travellers are in the habit of kidnapping children.

Lopsy was firm in defending her book.

She says that Romany Gypsies are a distinct ethnic group, and that the book does not use the word in a pejorative way, but is very positive in representing their skills and culture.

She also said, correctly, that Miss Clavel had carelessly left Madeline and Pepito behind at the carnival, whereas the gypsies had taken very good care of them, apart from not making them brush their teeth at night.

Points was just starting to object again, but I cut this discussion short too (I think I’m getting better at chairing meetings) and I invited Lopsy to go ahead and tell us the story.

(I discussed some more with Points after the meeting, and she has convinced me that we shouldn’t use the word “Gypsy”. Any word that has a history of being used as abuse had better be avoided by people without a personal reason for using it as part of their identity, which means most of us at the Book Club.

I do think now that I should have asked Lopsy to tell us a different Madeline story. That one has some wonderful parts, but there are plenty of wonderful parts in the other books too. We live and learn.)

Lopsy recited the story beautifully, but when she got to the part where Madeline and Pepito send a postcard home, to reassure Miss Clavel that they are all right, she started to sniff and had to stop.

Poor Lopsy. She says she’s a shadow of her former self, from worrying about Tom.

This isn’t exactly true, but she certainly was too snuffly to carry on.

That was a pity, because we would soon have reached the happy scenes of homecoming and reunion, but we didn’t get that far.

I felt that as the convenor of the meeting, it was my responsibility to stop everyone from bursting into tears.

I suggested that we all share any news we’ve had about Tom, and look forward to having a celebratory Zoom meeting when he gets back.

So everyone read out their postcards.

Madame Cholet and Reindeer had had one of the Black Welsh cow postcards from Tom (he told Walrus that he’d bought a bargain pack of them, and several of us had been sent the same picture). Madame Cholet’s card said that Tom had eaten one of his tent poles.

Lopsy got agitated again, worried that the tent would fall down.

But Reindeer said that Tom is managing fine with sturdy plants holding his tent up.

Then I showed them my map, where I’ve been marking what I think has been Tom’s route so far.

We’re pretty sure that he’s now in the south of Wales, and we know there are beautiful beaches there.

So we hope he’ll soon have achieved his aim of having a lovely seaside holiday, and will be setting off home.

Then Dillion played us a tune on the Welsh harp that Tom has sent him.

Dillion’s been practising day and night.

Luckily it’s quite a quiet instrument (I live with Dillion, but my room’s up in the attic, and anyway I’m a sound sleeper).

We were all exhausted by then, and the music made us feel pleasantly sleepy.

We agreed that we’d Zoom together again in a few days, just to exchange Tom news.

That’s if he hasn’t got home by then.

Lopsy asked if at the next Book Club we could read books about people getting lost.

I’m not sure whether that will cheer us up. Perhaps it had better be books about people getting lost and found.

But anyway, Tom isn’t lost. He’s just travelling.

He may go anywhere!

Tom’s still away on his bicycle trip. This is Lopsy letting you know the latest.

I’m just off for a run. This is where I climb over the fence into the meadow.

Teddy has persuaded me to get back into running every morning.

He’s right, I have got a bit tubby with all of his delicious French cooking.

He’s given up making croissants, but he’s practising gateaux, ready to make a really perfect one for when Tom gets home.

(I hope Tom comes home soon. I miss him.)

That was a raspberry gateau, gateau au framboises. And now Teddy has made a new rule: only one slice at a time.

I did only eat one slice at a time, but quite soon after each other.

I left a slice for Teddy.

That will be the last gateau au framboises. Little Strawberry says her raspberries have finished for the year, and Teddy will have to move on to beetroot cake if he wants a spot of colour.

This morning Teddy’s doing boring press-ups, so I’m going out for my jog.

I’ve paused for breath near Ellie and Dillion’s house, and I can hear a lovely sound.

It’s not exactly melodic, or harmonic. It sounds quite potential.

I’ll peep through the window.

Dillion seems to be playing a Welsh harp!

Ah, he’s seen me.

I’ll run home now and ring Didcot, to hear all of Tom’s news.

Oh dear, all the time I was chatting with Dillion, Teddy thought I was running round and round the meadow.

He’s been making a new gateau – a coffee and courgette gateau. We think it will be very healthy, because of the courgettes.

But only one slice each for now. And Teddy says that half a cake doesn’t count as a slice.