At the Museum

I go out every day, no matter what the weather’s doing. Well, I need the exercise and it gets me out of the flat. It doesn’t take much–one block up the hill, cross over, left, all the way to the end and over that road there,London Road, they call it.

It’s funny, having a London Road in London, but that’s because it used to be in Surrey in the olden days. Where was I? Yes, I made up my mind when I retired I’d take a daily stroll, get myself a cup of tea up at the café, go round the Gardens and if anyone smiled at me I’d smile back. Every day the same, you might say, but it wasn’t, any more than going to the office.

The first time I ever went to those Gardens was with Mary, God rest her. We took the children then, of course. Once round the long path and then it was, “Dad! Can we go to the Museum?”

Before I could answer, Mary would always say, “No shouting, mind!” and off they’d skip to the walrus, the masks, the fish by the staircase, the beehive.

“How d’you get the honey out–can you switch the bees off?”

“Will you be a fossil one day?”

“When I grow up I’m going to be a eagle!” Memories stay with you: teaching them to tie their shoelaces, brush their teeth, write their thank-you letters …

When I get up to the café, it’s as if they’re still with me, not miles away, doing grown-up things with gadgets I can’t understand. Mind you, kids are a lot noisier these days.

I was daydreaming over a cup of tea the other day when some child ran a scooter over my foot. I looked down at him; he looked up at me.

“I’m four!” he said, “I’ve got a brother–have you got a brother?”

For a moment I couldn’t find any words. Barry and I were twins, until the Great Goddess Diphtheria paid our house a visit. When you’ve had a brother like Barry, you’ve got a brother for life. I’m sure it was only a heartbeat before I managed to answer, “Yes, I’ve got a brother.”

“Is he bigger than you?”

Alan Wallace.

1, Little Brownings,

London SE23 3XJ.

Age: Over!

Filed under: Out of my window