It happened near Van Gogh’s Sunflowers. Jaded and jetlagged after arriving in London at 5 AM, we were stumbling around Trafalgar Square and the London National Gallery waiting to be able to check into our hotel. It would be a stretch for any two year old to remain interested in countless artworks, no matter how significant. Her complaints changed though at the Van Gogh – from “I want to go home” to “I want my teddy…”

We looked under the pusher where we expected to find Teddy. No luck. In the bag? Not there. We looked at each other briefly and it didn’t take long for panic to set in. Anyone who knows our daughter will attest to the importance of Douglas Teddy. “Let’s retrace our steps” we decided. Back through the rooms of artwork, with happy artlovers wondering why we were speeding around the rooms with not even a cursory glance at the paintings. No Teddy at the lost property spot. No sign of him anywhere around the expanse of Trafalgar Square. Stumped, I asked our daughter if she had thrown him somewhere. “Yes Daddy,” she replied helpfully, “I threw him by his ear. Onto a bench.” This was a helpful lead, but did not lead to Teddy.

I was about to give up hope when I saw my ever ingenious wife in an animated conversation with a man in a fluoro yellow jacket picking up rubbish. Yes, he had seen Teddy, and he thought his colleague across the square might have picked him up. We sprinted past Nelson’s column to find him. “Oh, that was your Teddy,” he said, “I gave him to that lady.” He waved a complex series of hand actions to another yellow-jacketed lady, who smiled as she realised what it was about. She retrieved the long lost Teddy from her office and handed him back with a grin and a stern warning not to lose him again.

Teddy finders at Trafalgar Square

Our daughter seemed unperturbed, oblivious to the near loss of her favourite stuffed toy in one of the world’s biggest cities. We decided that from now on we would keep a close eye on Teddy’s escape attempts.

Reunited at last