Non-Participation II - One.

Ah - There's nothing like a walk in the park to get rid of the stresses of the day, is there. A light breeze blowing through the trees, birds singing, the happy sounds of children playing. 'Yes', I thought, 'I needed this walk.'

I sat down on a park bench and surveyed the scene about me. It was a warm spring day. The flowers were blooming, the sun was shining, and I'd nearly succeeded in forgetting about the nightmare back at home.

My attention was taken up by the sight of a frail old lady, making her way unsteadily along the path.

She drew level with me. "Excuse me." She said politely. "Would you mind if I were to sit here?"

I moved over to make room. "Of course! Please sit down."

"Thank you." She gratefully sank onto the seat and rested her gnarled old hands on the head of her cane. "It's a lovely day."

"Yes it is." I agreed.

"I often fly, way up in the sky." She said.

"Stormy seas make me weak at the knees." I said.

"Tales are told of those young and bold." She said.

"Those of an age, can still turn a page." I said.

Anyone listening to us must have wondered if senility had affected us both. What they wouldn't have known was that we were both agents for that top secret organisation - International Rescue. When meeting we would exchange code phrases so that we could identify each other. It was totally unnecessary of course. We knew each other on sight and had been friends since we'd both been trapped on the ill fated "Golden Empress".

We burst out laughing together. "How are you Trixie?" I asked her.

"Fine thank you Chris. And you?"

"Oh, fine. I had to get out of the house for a bit though. I needed the fresh air."

"How's the self defence lesson's coming on?"

I pulled a face. "I'm doing well with the yells. If a yell was all that was needed to scare away the bad guys, I could fight off an army!"

She laughed, a bright, fit contrast to the persona that had greeted me earlier.

I pointed at her cane. "What's with the walking stick?"

She tapped the side of her nose with the eagle's head handle. "All part of the cover my dear. We can't have our enemies thinking that I'm anything other than a little old lady can we."

The idea of eighty-four year old Beatrix Trickey being JUST a little old lady tickled my fancy so much that I couldn't help laughing at the idea.

"Besides," she added, "dear Brains has incorporated one or two gizmos into this little piece. For instance, what is the handle?"

"A Thunderbird?" I hazarded.

"True. But it is also a pepper sprayer. Lift the top, pinch it 'just so' and pepper spray shoots out of it's mouth. I won't demonstrate now."

"No thank you." I said, reflecting that in the middle of a public park was not the place to start spraying pepper spray. "What else can it do?"

"You slide this catch back here and there's a little tool kit."

"Handy."

"Yes. And I found a new use for it today..."

"Tell me."

"It makes a wonderful golfing putter." She reversed her grip and took a gentle swing.

"Somehow I don't think Brains will be too impressed at your latest innovation." I told her, as I took the cane to have a closer look.

"Speaking of Brains, how is he?"

"Last time I saw him he was being worn to a frazzle."

"Brains? He's usually so competent and unflappable."

"Well he brought some 'help' with him."

"Has he brought Tin-Tin? She's such a lovely girl. She can't be causing problems can she? She's always seemed so capable."

"Oh, it's not Tin-Tin that's the problem. He's brought Alan and Gordon as well."

"Two of the Tracy Boys! You are privileged. So, what is this new equipment?"

I hesitated as someone walked past. I had to remind myself that we were in a public place, not a secure environment. "To tell you the truth, I don't know. Brains did explain it to me, but it went in one ear and out the other. I'm sure it'll make sense once it's all been installed."

"So what's the problems he's having?"

"Everything Alan is touching is turning to custard."

"Alan!" Trixie face held a dreamy look. "I haven't met him, but I've seen his photo in motor racing magazines. Isn't he simply too gorgeous. If I were sixty years younger..."

I'd seen little looks pass between Alan and Tin-Tin. "Trixie, even if you were sixty years younger, I think you'd have some competition."

"Really? Who?" Then realisation dawned "You don't mean Tin-Tin? Oh, how lovely. Come on, it's been ages since I've seen any of them. I'm not going to let this opportunity pass." She stood up suddenly and started striding off down the path.

"Um, Trixie." I held out her cane. "It'd look more authentic if you were to use this rather than me."

She laughed. "Chris! You are quite right." She thanked me, took the cane and transformed herself back into the wizened old woman.