Read Online Apple of My Eye by Patrick Redmond - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Patrick Redmond
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am fine. Thomas has a cold and has given it to Uncle Stan but not me. Mrs Fletcher gave me a book to read called
King Solomon’s Mines.
It is very good. We had a maths test and I came top with Archie. Last night Mr and Mrs Brown came for dinner and Auntie Vera made fish stew from a recipe book. It took her all day and I heard MrsBrown tell Mr Brown that it was the most horrible thing she had ever eaten.
Yesterday I saw Mr and Mrs Sanderson. They said to send you their love and Auntie Mabel and Uncle Bill did too. Mr Sanderson gave me a penny red stamp and some American stamps and an album to put them in. There are different pages for different countries. Archie’s uncle lives in Australia and he is going to give me stamps too.
Catherine Meadows sat next to me at school today. She said that she is going to look after me while you are in Oxfordshire but I told her that I don’t need to be looked after. My job is to look after you.
Lots and lots of love
from
Ronnie Sunshine
Mabel Cooper stood in her corner shop, listening to Emily Hopkins talk about her brother Harry’s newborn son, John. ‘Such a beautiful baby! And clever too. Do you know …’ Mabel nodded politely, while wondering whether Emily was actually going to buy anything.
Ronnie Sidney entered the shop, dressed in his school uniform. In his hand was a white envelope.
‘Hello, Ronnie, dear. What a nice surprise.’
‘How are you, Auntie Mabel?’
‘All the better for seeing you.’
He approached the counter. Emily’s mouth tightened. She looked him up and down as if trying to find fault with his appearance. ‘How’s your mother getting on?’ she asked curtly.
‘Fine, thank you.’
‘Well, I must be off. Next time, Mabel, I’ll bring a photograph of John.’
‘And a shopping list,’ muttered Mabel as Emily left. Then she smiled at Ronnie. ‘Is that letter for your mother?’
‘Yes.’ He held out a shilling. ‘Can I have a stamp, please?’
She gave him one. ‘Did you send her our love?’
He nodded, while fixing the stamp to the envelope.
‘And how are
you
getting on, Ronnie?’
His head remained lowered. ‘All right.’
‘Really?’
He looked up. Managed a smile. ‘Really.’
She gave him a chocolate bar. The biggest one they had. ‘Have this too.’
‘Thanks, Auntie Mabel.’
‘Have tea with us soon. Bring some of your pictures. We’d love to see them.’
‘I will. Goodbye, Auntie Mabel. Say hello to Uncle Bill for me.’
She watched him make his way out of the shop. His second-hand uniform was too big but he would grow into it in time. A group of boys were playing football on the street outside, making the most of the last few minutes of daylight. One of them called for him tojoin them but he shook his head and carried on his way.
Once, years ago, she had heard a psychiatrist talking on the wireless, saying that often creative people needed solitude to truly hear the music inside themselves. Ronnie was something of a loner and he was artistic. Her husband, Bill, had a hunch that Ronnie would be famous one day. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps, twenty years from now, people would be asking her about
the
Ronnie Sidney and she would tell them: ‘He was always contained. Solitary. But that was how he needed to be. Couldn’t waste energy on the mundane. Not if he was to hear the music inside himself.’
Little Ronnie Sidney. A great man of the future? She hoped so. But only time would tell.
Another customer entered. She prepared to make a sale.
All the lights were off in 41 Moreton Street. Ronnie, wrapped in his dressing gown and using the moon for illumination, sat on the window ledge of his bedroom drawing a picture for his mother.
It was a copy of his favourite painting. Ophelia drowning with flowers in her hair. It wasn’t as perfect as the original. He wasn’t as skilled as Millais. Not yet. But one day he would be a famous artist and everyone in the world would know his name. It was what his mother wanted
King Solomon’s Mines.
It is very good. We had a maths test and I came top with Archie. Last night Mr and Mrs Brown came for dinner and Auntie Vera made fish stew from a recipe book. It took her all day and I heard MrsBrown tell Mr Brown that it was the most horrible thing she had ever eaten.
Yesterday I saw Mr and Mrs Sanderson. They said to send you their love and Auntie Mabel and Uncle Bill did too. Mr Sanderson gave me a penny red stamp and some American stamps and an album to put them in. There are different pages for different countries. Archie’s uncle lives in Australia and he is going to give me stamps too.
Catherine Meadows sat next to me at school today. She said that she is going to look after me while you are in Oxfordshire but I told her that I don’t need to be looked after. My job is to look after you.
Lots and lots of love
from
Ronnie Sunshine
Mabel Cooper stood in her corner shop, listening to Emily Hopkins talk about her brother Harry’s newborn son, John. ‘Such a beautiful baby! And clever too. Do you know …’ Mabel nodded politely, while wondering whether Emily was actually going to buy anything.
Ronnie Sidney entered the shop, dressed in his school uniform. In his hand was a white envelope.
‘Hello, Ronnie, dear. What a nice surprise.’
‘How are you, Auntie Mabel?’
‘All the better for seeing you.’
He approached the counter. Emily’s mouth tightened. She looked him up and down as if trying to find fault with his appearance. ‘How’s your mother getting on?’ she asked curtly.
‘Fine, thank you.’
‘Well, I must be off. Next time, Mabel, I’ll bring a photograph of John.’
‘And a shopping list,’ muttered Mabel as Emily left. Then she smiled at Ronnie. ‘Is that letter for your mother?’
‘Yes.’ He held out a shilling. ‘Can I have a stamp, please?’
She gave him one. ‘Did you send her our love?’
He nodded, while fixing the stamp to the envelope.
‘And how are
you
getting on, Ronnie?’
His head remained lowered. ‘All right.’
‘Really?’
He looked up. Managed a smile. ‘Really.’
She gave him a chocolate bar. The biggest one they had. ‘Have this too.’
‘Thanks, Auntie Mabel.’
‘Have tea with us soon. Bring some of your pictures. We’d love to see them.’
‘I will. Goodbye, Auntie Mabel. Say hello to Uncle Bill for me.’
She watched him make his way out of the shop. His second-hand uniform was too big but he would grow into it in time. A group of boys were playing football on the street outside, making the most of the last few minutes of daylight. One of them called for him tojoin them but he shook his head and carried on his way.
Once, years ago, she had heard a psychiatrist talking on the wireless, saying that often creative people needed solitude to truly hear the music inside themselves. Ronnie was something of a loner and he was artistic. Her husband, Bill, had a hunch that Ronnie would be famous one day. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps, twenty years from now, people would be asking her about
the
Ronnie Sidney and she would tell them: ‘He was always contained. Solitary. But that was how he needed to be. Couldn’t waste energy on the mundane. Not if he was to hear the music inside himself.’
Little Ronnie Sidney. A great man of the future? She hoped so. But only time would tell.
Another customer entered. She prepared to make a sale.
All the lights were off in 41 Moreton Street. Ronnie, wrapped in his dressing gown and using the moon for illumination, sat on the window ledge of his bedroom drawing a picture for his mother.
It was a copy of his favourite painting. Ophelia drowning with flowers in her hair. It wasn’t as perfect as the original. He wasn’t as skilled as Millais. Not yet. But one day he would be a famous artist and everyone in the world would know his name. It was what his mother wanted
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