Short story 13

George had been sent home from school as he was not well. He sat drawing. His mother’s friends had come round for a cup of tea. They chatted. It happened most afternoons. The house was changed from day to day,  but today it was their house’s turn.

“Mrs Aldis you know is having it away with the milkman.”

“The milk float is outside her house for ages each day.”

“But he’s so old.”

“Well her husband is away fighting.”

“Yes. You can’t blame her. Her youth is filtering away.”

“But that’s the same for most Women.”

Mrs James was a friend of Mrs Aldis and wanted to change the subject.”She turned to George’s mother. “Your young George is growing up.”

“Yes he’s six now. Doesn’t time fly?”

“You must be proud of him.”

“Oh no. He was such an ugly baby.”

“He’s not ugly now.”

“But when he was born, every time he cried his mouth went up at the side. What have I been given here I asked. What have I done to deserve this?””

“His drawings are quite good.”

“They’re alright.”

“My Alfred is very good at drawing,” offered Mrs Black

Mrs James continued with her hostess. She did not understand George’s mother’s indifference. “You should be proud of him.”

“When he gets older, where are you going to send him to school?” asked Mrs Lander, who was a bit better off than most of her neighbours.

“Oh the local school.”

“Not a private school?”

“I am not going to waste my money on that.”

“They say that Brockbourne is very rough.” exclaimed Mrs Lander

“He’ll learn to look after himself.”

“Don’t you want him to get to a grammar school?”

“Well if he wins a scholarship, I won’t stop him.”

George continued drawing.


Fill out the form below, and we will be in touch shortly.

Thank you, Keith Beal