In which Small Sprog was lost....

I took this picture of the Tate Gallery in St Ives in Cornwall last weekend. I have been whinging on about going for years! However it's vicinity (adjacent to the beach) means that as soon as we arrive there is a crisis. Beach...art...beach..art...hmmm, which would you have chosen when you were small? So, yes you've guessed it, they win every time. I have, in the past, muttered about going in by myself but for some reason this seems to cause great offence to all of them. I am expected to enjoy their company on the beach (which I do, would, will....just a little look? NO).

Anyway, last weekend was freeeezing, so although the beach looked great, and was for a while, everyone agreed that it would be warmer in the gallery (yippee). Tall Girl and Husband hopped up the stairs way before I got there with Small Sprog who was still digging, dog style, on the beach. After de-sanding him, Small Sprog and I crossed the road just in time to see Tall Girls head peep up over the curved wall at the top. Small Sprog screamed with excitement and ran on ahead, not up the steps but the ramp walkway on the right. As I brought up the rear a woman stopped me and asked if I knew the way in. 'It's just up here' I gestured.

'We've tried up there but we can't get through the door' she replied.

Well, seeing as Husband had not reappeared with Tall Girl and Sprog, I kept walking up the steps saying that I was sure this was the way in. At the top I pulled the handle and the glass door opened. The woman was directly behind me. 'It didn't open when I tried it' she said.

'Perhaps they didn't like the look of you' I replied without thinking! I was joking of course but I don't think she got it. Even more embarrassing though was that Husband (who was waiting in the foyer) immediately greeted the woman (quite warmly) and I realised he knew her! She was one of his customers who lives here in Bristol. (I'm bound to bump into her again, probably when doing something stupid in a supermarket.)

Anyway after the confusion (polite introductions, smiles and hasty retreats -mine -) I noticed Small Sprog was not bouncing (that's how he is most of the time). Tall Girl was loitering hoping no one would speak to her and husband was trying to explain the ins and outs of his customer base to me when.....'Where is he?' I say. At that moment I realised he was not in the building. I turned around to look out of the glass door through which I'd come and there was Small Sprog, mouth wide open (I couldn't hear his cries through the glass), in hopeless distress and panic. He couldn't see us through the glass door and had been running around and around looking for us all this time. I flew through the door, back out into the cold, and swept him up into my arms, kissing and kissing and wiping his tears 'Where have you been? Don't worry, mummy wouldn't leave you' I sooth.

He was very upset. We hauled him inside and he was unusually subdued. He was obviously in shock, so we took him up to the cafe for a Hot Chocolate with marshmallows and a Chocolate Brownie (the equivalent of hot sweet tea!). It did the trick and he 'bounced' back. (By the way the Tate was as good as I'd hoped!)

Tonight after we put him to bed he came downstairs. 'I'm frightened but I'm not sure what I'm frightened of' he said. I can remember feeling like that as a child, still do sometimes, so I took him back upstairs and lay down on the bed beside him. After shuffling about a bit he rested his head on my shoulder and I put my cheek on his head. He held my hand and slipped into sleep. I lay there for a while. Not because I was afraid of waking him but just enjoying his stillness. His curly hair felt so soft against my cheek and his small warm hand so precious. I savoured the moment. My lovely boy.