This morning, after the Baby had set out for its run in the park with Lopsy,
I took advantage of the peace and quiet to have a nice cup of tea, and consider the question of Um.
I thought of offering a cup of tea to her, but she was hiding again.
I worry about her.
She shouldn’t be living with a boring old bear like me.
Of course we’re all isolated at the moment, but she doesn’t even have anyone to text or phone or email.
I suppose she left her friends and family behind in the place that she came from. Wherever that was.
I don’t know much about her.
We met when I was camping at the seaside.
I went for a last stroll on the beach before bed one evening, and that’s when I came on Um.
She was wet and cold, and very tired and frightened.
I don’t know how she’d got there.
Later I discovered that she had a baby in her pocket.
After I’d got them dry and warm and fed and rested, we set off to walk home.
It would have been a very long trudge, all the way home from the seaside. And I didn’t really know the route.
Luckily the Invisible Friend turned up and gave us a ride home in her school bus.
Got us here just in the nick of time before the Second Lockdown began.
I think Um is a little more relaxed now, but I wouldn’t say she’s got over her trauma.
I’ll consult my friends about finding out what language she speaks, and working out what plans we should be making for her and the Baby.
That’s probably enough thinking about Um for now.
But I’ll put out a cup of tea and a banana, for her to have when she comes out of hiding.
Now, I may have mentioned, maybe even twice, that I have a key.
It’s quite an unusual one.
At the beginning of Lockdown, I decided to sort out my possessions. The key was one of the things that turned up.
I should confess that I still haven’t quite finished finding a place for everything.
I’ve been trying out the key on many people and things that I thought might need to be wound up.
I offered to help the guardsman, even though his hat is made of you-know-what.
Actually, maybe it isn’t. Now I come to think of it, it looks more like tin. So I’m glad I did offer to help him.
But the key didn’t fit him. It didn’t fit any of them.
However, today a postcard came through the door. That doesn’t often happen.
I know I shouldn’t pick the post up straight away, in case the poor postperson has been exposed to the Virus on someone’s doorbell or letterbox, and has then infected my letters.
So I read the card as it lay on the mat.
It’s from my friend Viol Teddy, suggesting I go and join him for a swim in his bird-bath, when we’re allowed to travel and socialise again.
On the writing side, there’s a small picture of Alice-in-Wonderland.
That made me impatient to see what the main picture was, so without contaminating my paws, I flipped the card over with a spoon.
The picture is of the White Rabbit, checking the time on his watch.
It’s a pocket-watch, on a chain, and that’s given me an idea.
I think I know what may need my key to wind it up – my great-grandfather’s pocket-watch.
But where is it? I haven’t seen it for a long time.
I wonder if Viol Teddy would like to join Bimbo’s Zoom Ensemble.
I looked out some zoomy music that Lopsy and I could play together.
But it was quite a short practice.
That was the Baby arriving home. The doorbell is quite mellifluous, isn’t it?