“Today,” I said, “we are going on a steam train.” “Are we?” said the Boy Wonder, wide-eyed. “Yes, we are,” I replied firmly – crossing my fingers that the idea would land well, and that R and I would be spared some of the lengthy negotiations we’ve had to endure in the past. But far from quibbling, the Boy looked at me almost open-mouthed, and said, “Did my Mummy tell you that I wanted to go on a steam train?” “No,” I replied, “she didn’t. I just thought you might.” “I do!” he said. “I do want to go on one!”
So much did he want to go on one, that he was left quite anxious and jittery by the performance involved in reaching Broadway station (which requires parking in a commercial car park and crossing the main Evesham road on foot), followed by a further delay when the station master had to photocopy my on line booking slip, because he hadn’t yet received a copy from the central ticketing system. But we got everything sorted out in time to walk along the platform for a look at the engine, before finding an empty compartment (“I want this to be just for us. No-one else is allowed to come and sit here.”), and settling in for the half-hour trip down to Winchcombe.
He absolutely loved it. And I absolutely loved him loving it. Before we set off he recorded a video message on my phone to send to his parents, which went: “We’re on a steam train! [sung to a little tune he’d just made up] We’re on a steam train, Mummy! [jumping up off the seat and lifting a triumphant arm] And we’re having lots of fun! We can hear the steam! [cupping an ear demonstratively] It’s going! It’s going to go! So…BYE!!”
When we disembarked at Winchcombe (with me apparently the only person in the entire carriage who was old enough to know that you have to drop the window to reach the door handle), we went along the platform to admire the engine again and watch it set off towards Cheltenham, which is currently the end of the line. Meanwhile, after seeing us off at Broadway, R had retrieved the car and driven down to collect us, and when he joined us at the end of the platform and took charge of a Boy who by now was almost literally jumping up and down with excitement, I was able to step back and take some photos of the scene. I’ve included a second image, which captures a discussion I wasn’t able to hear – but R tells me that from where they were standing they could see the fire box, and the Boy was working out where the steam was going and what was driving what, and explaining it all to Granddad.
The rest of the day included lunch in the café at NT Snowshill (another idea of mine, and again, reasonably successful), and then – at the Boy’s request – an hour in the garden harvesting quinces and refilling the trug on the garden wall, followed by a late afternoon trip into Stratford to feed the birds at the river. I’m confident that he enjoyed all of it, but there’s no doubt in my mind that the steam railway was the highlight of the day. At bed-time he fell asleep half way through The Cat in the Hat, and far from taking this as a slight on my reading skills, I was entirely sympathetic: by this point I was so tired, I could easily have conked out next to him.
