Excerpt From My WIP Titled 'Sugar and Spice'. A Fun Romp About Womanhood.

CHAPTER TWO

March 1977

I turned one today. Imagine that?

We had a picnic in a enormous park with family and friends to celebrate. We live somewhere called Sydney, and the park is close to our house in a place called Brighton-Le sands. Every few minutes giant birdlike machines flew over our heads. ‘Look, a plane.’ Seb shouted, pointing to the sky.

I’m learning what new things are called every day. Seb kicked his ball around with Dad. ‘C’mon matey’ Dad called. ‘Try to kick it between those two trees.’

I want to play too. Maybe I can crawl over there? I’m a master at crawling now. I can even pull myself up to stand. Walking though, is still a problem. Every time I try to move forward, my little legs seem to forget their job. Still, I was determined.

Right. Here I go. I hadn’t even made it off the picnic blanket before Grandma swooped in and scooped me up in her arms. ‘Oh no you don’t, you little monkey.’ Back on the blanket I went.

Then she surrounded me with toys like some sort of offering to the gods: a doll, a teddy bear, and a colourful book about a very hungry caterpillar. As much as I like my toys, I didn’t want any of those things. I wanted to kick the ball with Dad and Seb. 

The second Grandma looked away, I made another escape attempt. Damn it. Caught again. ‘You’re a determined little poppet, aren’t you?’ she laughed. Stay here with Grandma, sweetheart. We don’t want your pretty birthday dress getting dirty.’ 

I can speak a few words now, so I called out while pointing at Dad and Seb. ‘Ball.’

‘No sweetie. You stay here with Grandma and play with your dolly. Don’t you like her?’ Yeah, sure. She’s okay, but I’d rather play with the ball. 

Mum called everyone over to the picnic table and lifted me into my highchair. A moment later my captor, returned carrying a giant pink cake. ‘Cake’. Now that word I knew. Seb turned five not long ago and I remembered cake being excellent. I reached for it.

Grandma smacked my hand away ‘No Charlie. Don’t put your hands near the cake. We need to light the candles and sing you happy birthday.’ Candles. I don’t like candles; they’re hot and scary. Last time I touched one on Seb's birthday cake, Dad yelled so loudly I cried.

Everyone sang while I clapped along. When they stopped, Mum blew out the candles. Thank goodness. Take those evil firesticks away. Finally, I reached for the cake again. Ouch. My hand got smacked away. Honestly, what was Grandma’s problem?

Mum lifted the cake out of reach. ‘Sorry sweetie. We don’t want your hands getting dirty and you wiping them all over your pretty dress, now do we?’ I stared at her. I don’t know, do we?

Weren’t there supposed to be presents too? Maybe someone bought me my own ball. Maybe I’ll get them when we get home. Mum brought over a small piece of cake, but instead of letting me hold it, she broke off tiny bits and pushed them into my mouth herself.

‘No darling. Let Mummy do it. No messy hands.’ I was starting to suspect this dress was ruining my life.

Once we were all done with the cake, Seb, Uncle Stan, Dad, and Aunty Cindy were back to kicking the ball around. It looked like fun. Meanwhile, I was back on the picnic blanket beside by abandoned highchair.

Right then. Let’s try this again. I grabbed the highchair and pulled myself up.

Okay… steady…one foot…then the other. Oooh. I’m doing it.

‘Robyn!’ Dad shouted suddenly. ‘Quick get the camera. Charlie’s walking.’

Look at me go. Dad held out his arms wide.

‘Come to daddy sweet girl.’ I waddled towards him. Legs shaking with every step.

Here I come… Oh no. I tipped side ways just before I reached him.

Mum quickly came to my rescue and placed me upright, frantically brushing the dirt away. Her lit cigarette waved dangerously close to my face. ‘Oh no’ she gasped. ‘Not your beautiful dress.’

Didn’t you see me, Mum? I was walking. Seb had grass stains all over his clothes and no one cared.

Hayley Walsh (c) 2026