njedger.com

Ted Bear was a very smart bear. He was always dressed immaculately – whatever the occasion happened to be, for he was the kind of bear who simply loving the feeling of being well dressed. Every evening, he made sure to polish his shoes and prepare his outfit ready for the following day. He always ensured his clothes were clean, pressed and neatly organised inside his tall wooden wardrobes. Loose threads or buttons were always attended to and fixed.

One day, Ted Bear was walking down the street and, having been out all morning without respite, fancied quenching his thirst, for it was a sultry summer’s day. The city was awash with people shuttling hither and thither. Men and women marched around in fine suits, dressed for important business, barking orders into their mobile telephones. Younger groups of girls and boys lazily sauntered around, looking to entertain themselves. And older folks walked on, unrushed and unconcerned by the hubbub of the city, merely enjoying the sunshine and the pleasant hum of activity that hung in the air.

“The tea rooms on Baker Street, I think,” thought Ted Bear. And soon as he had decided that was where he desired to go, he began to salivate in anticipation of the refreshing first sip soon to be had. His mind drifted as he walked onwards: the delicious sweet scent of pastries and other fragrant treats that always lingered in the high ceilinged atrium of the tea room made his shoulders quiver. “Yes,” he mused, “that’s just what I need to restore my energy.”

The brilliant sun beat down on the pavements and with each step, Ted Bear grew wearier and wearier.

“Surely I’m getting close,” he hoped, “surely I’m almost there.”

A bead of sweat formed on his forehead and began to trickle downwards.

At the junction at the end of St George’s Street, Ted Bear paused. “Where is it?” he wondered, growing more and more concerned that he had made a wrong turn.

“Down St George’s Street, then at the bottom, turn right onto New Road…” But New Road wasn’t there at the bottom of St George’s Street: only a sign for Garibaldi Avenue on the right, Farringdon Crescent on the left, and the road ahead became Water Street. Ted Bear was a little anxious. Desperate to salve his growing thirst, he questioned his own memory of the route to the tea rooms on Baker Street. He didn’t like asking for directions from strangers – he didn’t like the little butterflies that tickled his tummy when he considered all the things that might go wrong after approaching a stranger – but what choice did he have?

“Tea rooms on Baker Street? Never heard of it.”

“Baker Street you said? Not sure.”

“No idea.”

Then he saw a friendly looking bear walking by. She was dressed in a pretty red dress and carried a navy blue bag and seemed like sunshine itself.

“Excuse me, Miss,” Ted Bear called out, “you don’t – wouldn’t happen to – if you’d be so kind I mean – if you only have a minute of course – happen to know where the tea rooms are?”

She looked back, a little confused, “Hmm?” she questioned.

“Sorry. I mean to say: where Baker Street is from here?” He felt his cheeks growing redder and redder. He patted his brow with his kerchief.

“The tea rooms on Baker Street? Well,” the bear replied with a widening smile and glittering eyes, “that’s just where I’m heading to right now. Shall we walk there together?”

“Oh! Oh yes!” said Ted Bear, beaming with gratitude and thanks. “Yes. That would be most splendid.”

And so Ted Bear, and his new friend, walked side-by-side to the tea rooms on Baker Street together.