‘It’s going home day today Mrs Bont,’ laughed Nurse Lovely from the doorway of our private room.

From within my cot I chuckled excitedly at the sound of her lovely voice, so much so that frothy bubbles formed at the corner of my mouth, but mother did not reply. 

‘Mrs Bont,’ continued Nurse Lovely whilst smiling across at me on the far side of the room.  ‘You must be excited.’

I gurgled in agreement but mother still did not respond as her entire concentration you see was focussed upon packing her advanced driver’s test certificate safely inside a foldaway shopping trolley.

‘Mrs Bont,’ repeated Nurse Lovely as mother at last zipped the tartan bag firmly shut.

‘Yes,’ tutted mother.

‘You must be looking forward to going home,’ said Nurse Lovely.  ‘Are you sure you’ve got everything?’

‘Yes,’ replied mother anxiously unzipping the tartan foldaway shopping trolley to confirm that she had most definitely packed the test certificate before zipping it shut once more.

‘I hope all goes well for you and the boy,’ said Nurse Lovely as her eyes gently filled with tears. 

Mother once again did not respond concentrating as she now was upon balancing the foldaway shopping trolley upon its set of rickety wheels.

‘He is special,’ added Nurse Lovely. 

‘Most kind of you to say so’ I gurgled happily even though mother remained silent.

‘You’ll see,’ added Nurse Lovely hopefully.  ‘Well I guess you must be off soon.’

‘Goodbye,’ suddenly replied mother as she wheeled the trolley out of the room somewhat unsteadily yet with an absolute determination and certainly without even a parting glance towards Nurse Lovely.

‘Goodbye,’ said Nurse Lovely wiping a tear from her eye.

‘Goodbye,’ I attempted to gurgle but merely dribbled instead.

‘Goodbye!’ exclaimed Nurse Lovely as she clutched me up from the cot before rushing out of the room.  ‘Mrs Bont, please wait.’

I could see mother, who was already halfway down the corridor, hesitate and as she gazed back over her shoulder I am sure that I could hear her sigh.

‘Mrs Bont, your baby,’ said Nurse Lovely.

‘Oh him,’ sighed mother once more.

‘Whatever were you thinking?’ asked Nurse Lovely who, light of breath, was clearly more concerned than mother seemed to be.

‘Didn’t realise,’ mumbled mother quietly.

‘Didn’t realise what Mrs Bont?’ asked Nurse Lovely.  ‘Surely you didn’t mean to go on your own?’

‘Didn’t realise,’ repeated mother more quietly still.

‘You must be more careful with the boy,’ advised Nurse Lovely.  ‘Promise me you will.’

Mother did not reply. 

I have to admit that I felt a light pang of apprehension as I was passed from the fresh warmth and comfort of Nurse Lovely to the disinterested hold of mother.  Indeed some of you out there may be asking whether I really knew what I was letting myself in for as mother hastily tucked me under one arm before continuing to wheel the foldaway shopping trolley down the corridor.  Yet my concern did not last because within a few strides we had reached the main exit of Carparkchurch North Hospital at which point I became utterly spellbound by the notion that we were about to set off to the family home for the very first time.  For as you all know home is where the heart is and at that moment in time this lifted my spirits more than I could ever imagine now.

I am rushing ahead of myself of course as before we were to even reach our home and all the magical thrills that I envisaged waiting for me there I was to have my first significant experience of life in the world beyond doctors, nurses and resident psychologists.  You see little did I realise as we clambered aboard a mud-splattered yellow shuttle bus, better known in these parts as the B145 Carparkchurch North Circular, that I was on the verge of having my very first encounter with a member of the establishment.

Unused to my presence mother manoeuvred along the aisle of the bus with the greatest of difficulty, catching several unfortunate passengers with my trailing feet, until she at last found a place to sit.  Placing me next to the window she sat down upon the aisle seat and immediately began to stare at the back of a bald man’s head who was seated directly in front of her.  Everything seemed so new and strange but I kept my calm even when the bus, without due warning, lurched forwards and begun its journey towards the family home.  Yet not a single word of reassurance was offered or even a fleeting glance of support as mother’s view remained firmly fixed as before.  Indeed over the years I have never known mother to sit directly next to the window, as she found all that changing scenery as you went down the high street far too unsettling, always preferring the type of static view that she had now.  I have to say that I would have liked to have had the opportunity to observe the world as it passed by for the very first time, but I was of course much too small to reach up and gaze out.

Not that I was to be without amusement.  You see there were so many new folks to meet and I took great delight as they each in turn dribbled and coughed over me as the bus continued on its way towards our home.  
 
‘Ah isn't he sweet,’ sighed one lady.

‘Just like mine used to be,’ reflected another.

‘Ah, plippaploppapants,’ added twin sisters in unison.  ‘Plippaploppa. Plippaploppa.  Poohpoohpooh.’ 

These were just a few of the kind comments made about me by my fellow passengers and to each and every one I gurgled in response and increased their delight in me even more.  Mother was having none of this merriment though, preferring to continue to stare in silence at the back of the bald man's head before her.  Let it be I thought to myself as I continued to lap up the attention.  Not every day contains your first ever bus journey does it?

Yet suddenly and without a flicker of a warning the merriment of my fellow admirers was to cease replaced in an instant by a fearful hush as a sinister figure climbed aboard the B145 Carparkchurch North Circular.  In my naivety I continued chuckling aloud for a few seconds more until I too fell silent as a voice that began as a quiet hiss at the front of the bus drifted inexorably along the length of the aisle like a trail of toxic smoke.

‘Laydeees n genlemn,’ hissed the voice and as it passed over me I could not help but cough.  ‘Tikettts, pleeese.  Tikettts.’

Do not assume that I am exaggerating when I state that a blind frenzy now possessed my fellow passengers as each and every one of them rustled in their pockets and purses and for the more desperate under their seats and even in their underwear for valid proof of payment.

‘Tikettts, pleeese,’ hissed the voice once more at which point I realised that I was in the presence of my first ever ticket inspector.

Fascinated by the drama of the occasion I intently observed this senior figure of the establishment, who I could now see was very tall and lean and wore a wide brimmed cap that cast a permanent shadow over his sallow face, as he made his way along the bus carefully examining every printed detail of every ticket proffered by shaking fingertips.  I could feel in my own body all of those heightened emotions as each passenger reached their own individual moment of judgement and their ultimate sense of relief.  And then all too soon it was our turn…

Yet it has to be said that out of all of the passengers on the B145 that morning it was only mother who retained her composure as she casually retrieved a crinkled yellow stub from her purse, a weekly return that she had acquired on the very morning that she had gone to the hospital to give birth to me, and allowed it to be taken from her outstretched hand. 

‘Weekerly return, madam.  That's fine,’ said the ticket inspector tearing the stub in two before returning it to mother who immediately placed it carefully back inside her purse.

Overcome with relief I mistakenly chuckled aloud and at that very moment I began to realise that the ticket inspector was not quite finished with the two of us as he leant across mother and began to inspect my very self.  I tried looking into his eyes and smiling but close as he was I could not see beyond the shadow that hung around his face.  Uneasily I shuffled in my seat uncertain now of what to do or say.

‘And what about this little luggage?’ challenged the ticket inspector and I swear I could feel my body shiver from the coldness of his breath.  ‘Eh, sonny?’

Frozen with fear I dared not move an inch and certainly not respond in any way at all.

‘Eh?’ the ticket inspector challenged again.

‘He's under eight,’ mother replied thankfully at last.

‘That is certainly true, madam,’ nodded the ticket inspector in agreement.

‘Under eights go free,’ continued mother.

‘Again that is certainly true, madam,’ confirmed the ticket inspector once more yet at that very moment his nod of agreement transformed into a shake of absolute disagreement.  ‘But this little luggage is taking up a whole seat of his own.  And madam, you will therefore not be at all surprised to learn that this requires additional payment.’

‘Oh,’ said mother who seemed more than a little surprised to receive such unexpected information. 

‘Exacterly, madam.  Exacterly,’ nodded the ticket inspector with merry pleasure.

‘But I'm getting off here,’ mother quickly added at the very moment that the bus ground to a halt at the corner of Clangham Road.  ‘Goodbye,’ she said rising unsteadily to her feet and in a flash she was shuffling down the road with the wheels of her foldaway shopping trolley bouncing erratically across the pavement.

‘Excuse me, madam.  You just cannot make your departure in that manner,’ cried out the ticket inspector from the steps of the B145.

But as you probably already realise mother can be a determined soul.  The faster she walked the higher the shopping trolley bobbled against the pavement, but she did not once look back.  Yet her flight was ultimately to be in vain for the ticket inspector was as determined as she and it was not many strides before he had caught up and placed a remanding hand upon her shoulder.

‘Madam,’ he hissed breathlessly.

‘Sorry,’ replied mother as she forlornly reached for her purse for the penalty fee.  ‘I didn't realise.  Here.’

‘No, Carparkchurch North Bus Depot has created a special dispensation for new mothers,’ replied the ticket inspector as he kindly closed mother's palm shut.  ‘We understand the stresses that can result from new motherhood and we can allow you to have one indiscretion under your present circumstances.’

‘Thanks,’ said mother and turned to go.

‘No wait, madam,’ said the ticket inspector.  ‘There's something else.’

‘Oh,’ said mother.

‘You left behind your little luggage.’

‘Oh him,’ said mother disappointedly as the ticket inspector carefully handed me back into her arms.

‘You should be more careful,’ advised the ticket inspector.  ‘He's a special lad.’
‘I doubt it,’ said mother as she tucked me back under her arm and continued to bounce the foldaway shopping trolley in the direction of 14a Clangham Road.