Something Precious ?

Something Precious

'Town centre - Christmas - purse in your handbag ? No chance.'

The policewoman couldn't have been less interested. She wrote down my details, gave me her e-mail, saw me out of the police station as quickly as she could. The bank clerk was more sympathetic as I cancelled my cards.

'Anything precious besides your cash and cards ?'

Oh yes.

.....................

The thing was, I hadn't wanted another doll episode. Grandma’s sly favouritism towards my older sister still rankled. It’s true she kept her socks clean for longer and she didn’t lose her hair ribbons, but it still wasn’t fair. Two dolls ; one more beautifully clothed, more curly haired than the other. One dressed in white silk, the other in yellow cotton. One with white leather boots with tiny studs, the other in knitted bootees. One in glitter wrapping, the other in Father Christmas paper. If we had the same thing it was bound to happen again. So I thought of something different. Grandma had already asked for our Christmas-lists.

I thought Daddy would be a better bet than Mummy. I started to talk at tea-times about trains. I drew lots of trains in my drawing book. I asked if we could go and watch the trains pass by from the hill above the line. Finally, I mentioned I would quite like a train set for Christmas.

My sister spluttered her tea and Mummy scolded her. My little brother said ‘Can I play,Vivi ?’ but he said that all the time. ‘Thought you wanted a cradle for your dolls, you two.’ Mummy said. ‘Well, I’m certainly not having a train set,’ added my sister. ‘That’s a boy’s toy.’ She laughed and they all joined in.

Grandma must have laughed too for, on Christmas morning under the tree lay two boxes, one in gold paper, the other in silver. My sister’s cradle had flowers stencilled on the headboard, mine had shapes. Hers was white, mine was yellow. Grandma was there, of course, though I only remembered three Christmases so far, she was always there to enjoy her giving. We did thank you and powdered cheek kisses, then turned for our main presents from Mummy and Daddy. Daddy had gone to the other room but my sister couldn’t wait. She opened a huge box and lifted out a push-chair just the right size for her doll. There was a quilt and a pillow with a frill and even a sunshade. She glowed. My brother ripped open his box and cooed with delight. It was a carpenter’s set with bright coloured blocks, all different shapes, and a tin of tacks and a wooden hammer. Mummy showed him that the blocks were already pierced and he began hammering straight away. ‘Making something.’ He said proudly. I couldn’t see my box. I looked at Mummy and she looked a bit anxious, like when she’s made something new for supper and she doesn’t know if we’re going to like it. Daddy came through and crooked a finger at me. ‘This way, little lady.’ He said so I followed him into the dining room. I gasped.

On the carpet lay a single circle of track. On the track sat a green engine, a black coal truck and a brown goods wagon. I leaned closer and saw they were joined up by little hook and eye links. Daddy took one hand from behind him and handed me a metal key. It looked like an elephant's head with huge eyes. He pointed to the hole in the side of the engine. ‘ Try it.’ He said. So I put the key with its square hollow onto the square shaft in the engine and felt it tense as I turned it. I set it back on the track. I thought I heard it hum with excitement but perhaps it was me. Daddy pointed to a lever in the cabin. I flicked it. And the train went. Round and round and round and Daddy laughed and I laughed and the others came in and laughed too, Grandma and my sister because they thought it was a silly present, my mother from relief, my brother because everyone else was laughing and me and Daddy for joy. He bent his knees and took his other hand from behind him. In it were a pair of V shaped pieces of track. ‘They’re points.’ He said. And my Daddy and I put our smiling heads together and bent over my Triang Hornby train set and took out the metal brackets and fitted the V shaped pieces so my train could go round the track or across an S shaped route in the middle. And it never crashed once. And that was my best Christmas Day ever.

.................................

Oh yes.

In my black leather purse along with the mere cash and cards had been my Triang Hornby key, the symbol of my first independence, my first passion, my irreplaceable treasure. The trinket that had been explained to friends and lovers through the years, received with smiles, a little mockery sometimes, was gone. Tossed into a bin with the purse, the Japanese God of Luck token, and all the other things of no importance.

Something inside me lost my last grip on childhood and this sixty five year old wept in the street.

Something Precious

'Town centre - Christmas - purse in your handbag ? No chance.'

The policewoman couldn't have been less interested. She wrote down my details, gave me her e-mail, saw me out of the police station as quickly as she could. The bank clerk was more sympathetic as I cancelled my cards.

'Anything precious besides your cash and cards ?'

Oh yes.

.....................

The thing was, I hadn't wanted another doll episode. Grandma’s sly favouritism towards my older sister still rankled. It’s true she kept her socks clean for longer and she didn’t lose her hair ribbons, but it still wasn’t fair. Two dolls ; one more beautifully clothed, more curly haired than the other. One dressed in white silk, the other in yellow cotton. One with white leather boots with tiny studs, the other in knitted bootees. One in glitter wrapping, the other in Father Christmas paper. If we had the same thing it was bound to happen again. So I thought of something different. Grandma had already asked for our Christmas-lists.

I thought Daddy would be a better bet than Mummy. I started to talk at tea-times about trains. I drew lots of trains in my drawing book. I asked if we could go and watch the trains pass by from the hill above the line. Finally, I mentioned I would quite like a train set for Christmas.

My sister spluttered her tea and Mummy scolded her. My little brother said ‘Can I play,Vivi ?’ but he said that all the time. ‘Thought you wanted a cradle for your dolls, you two.’ Mummy said. ‘Well, I’m certainly not having a train set,’ added my sister. ‘That’s a boy’s toy.’ She laughed and they all joined in.

Grandma must have laughed too for, on Christmas morning under the tree lay two boxes, one in gold paper, the other in silver. My sister’s cradle had flowers stencilled on the headboard, mine had shapes. Hers was white, mine was yellow. Grandma was there, of course, though I only remembered three Christmases so far, she was always there to enjoy her giving. We did thank you and powdered cheek kisses, then turned for our main presents from Mummy and Daddy. Daddy had gone to the other room but my sister couldn’t wait. She opened a huge box and lifted out a push-chair just the right size for her doll. There was a quilt and a pillow with a frill and even a sunshade. She glowed. My brother ripped open his box and cooed with delight. It was a carpenter’s set with bright coloured blocks, all different shapes, and a tin of tacks and a wooden hammer. Mummy showed him that the blocks were already pierced and he began hammering straight away. ‘Making something.’ He said proudly. I couldn’t see my box. I looked at Mummy and she looked a bit anxious, like when she’s made something new for supper and she doesn’t know if we’re going to like it. Daddy came through and crooked a finger at me. ‘This way, little lady.’ He said so I followed him into the dining room. I gasped.

On the carpet lay a single circle of track. On the track sat a green engine, a black coal truck and a brown goods wagon. I leaned closer and saw they were joined up by little hook and eye links. Daddy took one hand from behind him and handed me a metal key. It looked like an elephant's head with huge eyes. He pointed to the hole in the side of the engine. ‘ Try it.’ He said. So I put the key with its square hollow onto the square shaft in the engine and felt it tense as I turned it. I set it back on the track. I thought I heard it hum with excitement but perhaps it was me. Daddy pointed to a lever in the cabin. I flicked it. And the train went. Round and round and round and Daddy laughed and I laughed and the others came in and laughed too, Grandma and my sister because they thought it was a silly present, my mother from relief, my brother because everyone else was laughing and me and Daddy for joy. He bent his knees and took his other hand from behind him. In it were a pair of V shaped pieces of track. ‘They’re points.’ He said. And my Daddy and I put our smiling heads together and bent over my Triang Hornby train set and took out the metal brackets and fitted the V shaped pieces so my train could go round the track or across an S shaped route in the middle. And it never crashed once. And that was my best Christmas Day ever.

.................................

Oh yes.

In my black leather purse along with the mere cash and cards had been my Triang Hornby key, the symbol of my first independence, my first passion, my irreplaceable treasure. The trinket that had been explained to friends and lovers through the years, received with smiles, a little mockery sometimes, was gone. Tossed into a bin with the purse, the Japanese God of Luck token, and all the other things of no importance.

Something inside me lost my last grip on childhood and this sixty five year old wept in the street.