A DAY OUT WITH CHARLIE

 by

PATTI HALES

      She'd nearly said, "For goodness sake, walk a bit faster or we'll miss the train." Then it struck her. Charlie was managing fine; she was the one making heavy weather of the situation.
     Tessa looked down at the sturdy little boy, valiantly struggling to match her long stride. By rights he ought to at home now, watching his favourite television programme while he waited for his tea.
     Guilt washed over as she bit back the sharp rebuke. It wasn't his fault that her arms felt as if they were about to part company with their sockets. Nothing to with Charlie that some unseen demon had stuck half a dozen lighted matches inside her shoes.
    As if sensing that he was under scrutiny, Charlie looked up. He winked lop-sidedly, his mouth twisting at the corner and Tessa managed a weak smile in return.
     He'd been so good. An absolute angel, under the circumstances he'd suddenly found himself thrust into.
     "Auntie Molly's not well," Tessa had explained that morning, hurriedly buttoning Charlie into his favourite purple jacket. "So you'll have to come to town with me. I'm sorry."
     Three quarters of her had genuinely sympathised with her best friend's plight. Stomach upsets were lousy.
     The other quarter - her rotten side - had heaved an exasperated sigh as she'd put the phone down. Cancelling the shopping trip was out of the question. Chloe, her niece's, wedding was on Saturday and she still hadn't found anything decent to wear.
     "Treat yourself," Martin had instructed. "We can afford it and you haven't bought anything new for ages."
     That was true. All their spare cash had gone on the house, but now Martin had been given his promotion, things were a bit easier.
     "Something pretty and slinky and not remotely sensible," he'd added, with a wide grin.
     Put like that, it had been irresistible. Tessa had immediately made plans for her shopping trip. It hadn't even crossed her mind that anything could go wrong at the last moment.
    But Charlie, true to form, hadn't kicked up even a little fuss.     "I don't mind, Mum." His sandy hair tousled, he'd solemnly pulled on his trainers then he'd stuck out his small foot for Tessa to do up the multi-coloured laces.  "It'll be an adventure."
     Adventure? Tessa doubted that very much. Going to the zoo was an adventure...rowing boats on the lake...the theme parks, which Charlie adored...
     But he hadn't played up at all. Not once. Had looked as if he'd been transported to paradise when she'd taken him for a cheeseburger at lunchtime, even though he'd been shoved and squashed by the crowds and they'd had to wait ages to find a seat.
     "This is brilliant," he'd said, piling his thin French fries into a pyramid. "Great," he'd assured her, sporting a thin moustache of tomato ketchup.
     Now his face was pink with exertion. He was puffing like an old steam engine, but he looked perfectly content. Why, Tessa couldn't even begin to imagine.
     By rights, he ought to be absolutely fed up.
     At least she'd been able to see what was on offer. Even if the style had been all wrong when she'd tried it on or the colour had drained every last vestige of healthy pink from her cheeks.
     It had taken hours to find what she was looking for.
     Charlie? His view had been of knees, and hems of coats; of counters with sharp corners at his eye level. Between shops, his little snub nose had been in direct line of the fumes being belched out by endless streams of buses.
     Yet whenever she'd asked if he was OK, he'd beamed at her and nodded. Once, when she'd sat him on a chair where she could keep her eye on him, she'd been struck by his rapt expression. His eyes had been everywhere. As if it was an Aladdin's cave he'd suddenly found himself whisked into, instead of the dress department in yet another large store.
     And she'd nearly snapped at him! Poor little soul.
     Filled with guilt, Tessa juggled with her burden until all her carriers were in one hand. She reached down and gave Charlie's shoulder a comforting squeeze.
     "Nearly there, sweetheart."            
     "Here we come, Mr Snake," Charlie said cheerfully, breaking into a little skip. "Trains do look like snakes, don't they, Mum? Haven't you always thought that?"
     At that moment Tessa wasn't sure what she'd always thought.
     They'd reached the door leading into a compartment which didn't look too crowded. Tessa half-lifted Charlie inside. He was nattering happily, but she couldn't quite catch what he was saying over the other noises. It was only when she'd settled him into a seat by the window that she realised he was still on his serpent theme.
     "This one's a python. Long and slithery..." Charlie waved his arms and his fingers made flickering movements," with two big bright eyes." He got up on his knees and stared out of the grimy window. 
     "That one over there...that's a boa constrictor." His hands found his neck and squeezed quite hard. He pulled a comical face and Tessa giggled as she stashed some of her baggage into the overhead rack, stowing the other bags, the squashy ones, under her knees.
     Pythons? Boa constrictors? From a not quite five year old? Television must be doing him more good than she'd realised. Might as well join in the game, she thought. It would help to pass the time on the long trip home.
     "What kind of snake did we come on this morning?" she asked, flopping down on the seat opposite him.
     Charlie  thought about it. His tongue popped out and licked his top lip. "I'm not very sure about that. It could have been..." His attention was distracted by the arrival of the elderly man who'd taken the place next to him.
    An elderly bald man, not a single strand covering the gleaming pink pate, which looked as if it had been recently varnished.
     Would Charlie...? No, Tessa comforted herself, his own Grandad was lacking in the hair department. It shouldn't be a problem. And she'd already explained how people changed as they grew older.
     Charlie's tow-coloured head swivelled. "Hello, man," he said cheerfully. Tessa groaned inwardly. The lined grey face looked as exhausted as she felt. Added to that, he'd just slid out his newspaper. He might even fancy a snooze.
     No chance of either, unless...Trying to catch her son's eye, Tessa shook her head furiously. From the bag on her lap, she pulled out the comic she'd bought Charlie when they'd arrived at the station and thrust it at him. He gave it a cursory glance, stood up, placed the brightly- coloured paper on the grimy seat and promptly sat down again.
     "This will stop the comic monsters from stealing it," he explained solemnly. "Comic monsters always travel on trains. It's the snakes, you see. They love snakes. Eat them for their dinner with chips and peas and-"
     "Charlie, don't be silly." Tessa struggled to keep a straight face.
     "Quite an imagination, eh?" the man said, his weary face transformed by a real smile. "Shame we have to knock it out of them, isn't it?" He glanced, fondly, at the little boy at his side.
     Tessa nodded. The other half of her own seat groaned as a very large woman sat down. She glanced sideways and heart sank. Tact wasn't one of the social graces which Charlie had yet grasped.
     He had a habit of being hideously honest and the lady was not only enormous, she was extremely colourfully dressed: ankle-length floral skirt, a scarlet shawl with fringes and a hat! With a long, curved, peacock feather.
     Around her neck hung an assortment of gold chains and bright beads, which jangled with every move she made and her exotic boots looked as if they'd been fashioned for a production of Kismet.
     But it was the sheer size of the woman which worried Tessa most.
     Right up Charlie's street. He loved anything larger than life. He'd say something. Tessa could already see the round blue eyes taking in every detail. But it was what  he'd say that worried her. She held her breath and sent up a silent prayer.
     Please, not weight. Not pregnancy either. Their young neighbour across the road was in the advanced stages and Charlie liked nothing better than to place his hand on her distended stomach. A single kick, even a flutter, and he'd shriek with glee.
     Tessa had been as honest as she'd thought Charlie could cope with, answering his endless questions on childbirth as simply as she could. Now she could see him weighing up the situation.
     "Hello, lady," Charlie said at last. "I like your hat." His sharp little elbow made contact with the man beside him. Tessa winced and made an apologetic face. "Do you like the lady's hat?" Charlie asked him.
     "Very smart." The newspaper was smartly folded. He's given up, Tessa thought as more and more passengers crammed themselves into the limited space between the rows of seats.
     Even if she wanted to escape before Charlie did any real damage, she didn't stand a chance. And anyway, who could say what their travelling companions would be like on the 5.05?
     She glanced at her watch. Any second now and they'd be off. Once that happened, she'd surely be able to find something outside to hold Charlie's attention. It had worked this morning on the journey up to town.
     A tall tower, a duckpond, even a lorry or two. Charlie was, by nature, an inquisitive child. Never content with just a single glance. She slid off her shoes and wriggled her toes. Bliss!
     "We're moving," she said after a few moments. "Look, we're leaving your boa constrictor behind."
      Charlie didn't even turn his head. All his attention was still concentrated on the hat.
     "Mum bought a new hat today," he said, his voice rising. "A sort of orange one, with a bit of fishing net to cover her face."
     Tessa glanced up at the overhead rack. Her lovely hat: delicate peach...with a flimsy little veil, which she'd thought screamed class...but Charlie hadn't finished.
    "And a dress...she bought a dress. It's orange too. At first she thought it made her bottom look fat." A ripple of sympathy hummed round the compartment. A rumble of deep laughter vibrated from the huge woman and Tessa could feel her cheeks turn bright red.
     "But it didn't," Charlie carried on, delighting in his growing audience. "I told her she looked like Princess Diana and she bought it. It cost ten thousand pounds."
     "It was forty nine, ninety nine in a sale." This time the words were out before Tessa could stop them. "And it's not orange, Charlie. It's peach. There's a difference, like..."
     "Like pink and red," the man suggested patiently.
     "Lilac and purple," a disembodied voice rang out.
     Alternative suggestions were shouted from all corners of the crowded compartment. The large lady leaned forward. Her necklaces jangled. "Like the sky in the morning and the sky at night."
     "Oh," Charlie said, frowning. "I see."
     Tessa doubted that he really did, but told herself that it didn't matter. At least they were on safe ground. And Charlie was learning something too. She allowed her tense shoulders to relax a little.
     He deserved a bit of undivided attention. Let him enjoy his centre-stage, she thought, her eyelids feeling heavy.
     "She bought new knickers, too." This little gem was delivered with all the panache of a well-rehearsed dramatic actor. "And other things," he added mysteriously.
     Tessa's eyes snapped open. She had. An everyday bra and a silky body for under the new dress; a glorious concoction of creamy satin. Resisting it had proved impossible. Martin would adore it, she'd thought.
     Really, she hadn't been aware that Charlie had been paying attention.
     She waited for the loud guffaws which would surely follow. Nothing. Just a breathless silence. She couldn't see Charlie either, but she could feel him, scrambling at her feet, his fingers like small crabs nipping at her toes.
     He couldn't...no. He wouldn't. Not in front of a bunch of total strangers.
     Wisps of lace, festooned with tiny flowers, swam into her line of vision. She felt physically sick.
     "Charlie," she said, sharply, "please get back into your seat."
     "Coming," Charlie panted. "I just want to show my friends what you bought."
     "Now, Charlie." Tessa swiped up the comic. She was going to read it to him. Whether he liked it or not.
     He emerged, triumphant, waving a paper bag. The bald man coughed, breaking the awful stillness. The plump lady's warm fingers covered Tessa's shaking hand.
     "Don't worry, love. He's not doing any harm."
     Only to my self-respect, Tessa thought, completely at a loss about how to handle the sensitive situation without making Charlie out to be an absolute monster.
     He wasn't being deliberately naughty, after all. Just eager to share his day. And the bag he was holding wasn't the one with the underwear in it. She was fairly sure of that. But what was in it, she honestly couldn't remember.
     "We've had a great adventure," Charlie said to no-one in particular. "This is a triceratops." He dug into the crisp paper and pulled out a plastic dinosaur. Another fumble, then, "This is a diplodocus and this is a tyrannosaurus." He fingered the short, thick neck. "Tyrannosaurus rex. Rex means king.
     "They cost millions of pounds, but Mum bought them for me. She's a queen, you see. A real fairy queen." He flashed Tessa an adoring glance. "One day I'm going to buy her a castle, with towers and three dragons and I'm going to get Dad a new watch, a waterproof one so he can swim under the sea and catch sharks for supper."
     He glanced round him. "You can all come and visit, if you want. Especially you," he told the big, giggling woman, "but only if I can wear your beautiful hat."
     Before Tessa had a chance to reprimand her son, the hat was whipped off, revealing a wild frizz of unlikely yellow hair, and plonked on Charlie's head.
     He sighed with pleasure and the feather wobbled. "Bet you I look just like Robin Hood."
     "He's incredible," the bald man told Tessa. He didn't look tired any more, she noticed. Charlie's love of life had worked its magic yet again. Her earlier exasperation was replaced with a quiet sense of pride.
     "I haven't enjoyed a train journey this much in years," the large woman said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes with the hem of her shawl.  Digging into her bag, she produced a large bar of chocolate. "May I give it to Charlie? As a thank-you present?"
     Tessa nodded weakly. Anything, she thought. She'd have given him anything at that moment. Even the thought of her new undies going on general display didn't bother her any more.
     Love surged through her like a tidal wave. Bending over, she scooped Charlie up and onto her lap, covering his soft cheek with butterfly kisses.
     For a moment he snuggled against her. The feather tickled Tessa's nose, making her want to sneeze. Then he sat bolt upright, his eyes full of indignation and his cheeks crimson.
     "Stop it, Mum. You're making me embarrassed." 

The end...