Today, as promised, we drove up to London — ostensibly to see Baby William, but principally so that Wilson could check that Colin the Knitted Camel wasn't being held there against his will.
On the drive up W accompanied everything that came on the radio — including the news bulletins — with his spoons, but although I had tried to reassure him I could tell by his playing that he was very tense. The constant unmusical tapping made me pretty tense too, but I said nothing.
Before leaving the car I made him promise not to steam in accusing anyone of kidnapping Colin, and he reluctantly agreed.
When we went inside, William was just being fed… and Colin was nowhere to be seen.
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