The announcement of the end of the Ten o'clock News was his signal to start getting ready to go to bed. Slowly and stiffly, his joints had served him well for 83 years, he tossed the morning paper into the waste bin beside him and pushing down on the arms of the chair, got to his feet. As he did, the doorbell rang.
He frowned, no one came to his house at that time of night. Assuming it was a taxi driver looking for a fare, he opened the door saying. 'No Taxi wanted - - - ' He stopped as he saw a tall, broad shouldered, man on the front step with an elderly woman, cradled in his arms.
In a soft Scottish accent, he asked. 'May I bring this lady in ?'
'Certainly not. ' Nodding towards the brass plate beside the door the man said.
'It says Doctor Harris on the plate.'
'I retired years ago, I don't see patients any more. I'll phone for an ambulance and tell them there's has been an accident.'
The bundle in the man's arms stirred and in a voice so low, he could hardly hear it said.
'Please let me in Sunshine.'
His jaw dropped, he had not heard himself addressed as Sunshine since he was a teenager and he cried.
'Beth ! Is it Beth ?'
The tall man nodded.
'But it can't be she is dead. She is dead ' is voice broke and in anguished tones cried .'It can't be. This is a cruel hoax. '
'It is me darling,' said the woman in a faint voice.
He leaned forward, took off her glasses and gazed into her eyes.
'It is you ! It is you ! '
His knees buckled and he fell forward, nearly dislodging the woman from the arms of her bearer and cried.
'Bring her in. Be quick. It's my darling, my darling Beth, after all these years.'
His words, gave way to a series of great sobbing gulping cries as the high point of his life, which he had long thought would never happen, was suddenly a reality. He sank back onto a chair, as the man moved into the house asking.
'Is there somewhere where my mother can lie down ? She cannot stand.'
'There is a sofa in here, do be careful with her, she is so precious.'
As the man laid his burden on the settee, the old man opened a cupboard and brought out a duvet, laid it lovingly over her and sank on his knees beside the settee, with his head on her thighs and sobbed relentlessly. The woman signalled to her son to bring him nearer. Gently he moved him sideways until he was able to lay his head on her chest. He saw his mother's arms convulsively grasp him to her.
He frowned, no one came to his house at that time of night. Assuming it was a taxi driver looking for a fare, he opened the door saying. 'No Taxi wanted - - - ' He stopped as he saw a tall, broad shouldered, man on the front step with an elderly woman, cradled in his arms.
In a soft Scottish accent, he asked. 'May I bring this lady in ?'
'Certainly not. ' Nodding towards the brass plate beside the door the man said.
'It says Doctor Harris on the plate.'
'I retired years ago, I don't see patients any more. I'll phone for an ambulance and tell them there's has been an accident.'
The bundle in the man's arms stirred and in a voice so low, he could hardly hear it said.
'Please let me in Sunshine.'
His jaw dropped, he had not heard himself addressed as Sunshine since he was a teenager and he cried.
'Beth ! Is it Beth ?'
The tall man nodded.
'But it can't be she is dead. She is dead ' is voice broke and in anguished tones cried .'It can't be. This is a cruel hoax. '
'It is me darling,' said the woman in a faint voice.
He leaned forward, took off her glasses and gazed into her eyes.
'It is you ! It is you ! '
His knees buckled and he fell forward, nearly dislodging the woman from the arms of her bearer and cried.
'Bring her in. Be quick. It's my darling, my darling Beth, after all these years.'
His words, gave way to a series of great sobbing gulping cries as the high point of his life, which he had long thought would never happen, was suddenly a reality. He sank back onto a chair, as the man moved into the house asking.
'Is there somewhere where my mother can lie down ? She cannot stand.'
'There is a sofa in here, do be careful with her, she is so precious.'
As the man laid his burden on the settee, the old man opened a cupboard and brought out a duvet, laid it lovingly over her and sank on his knees beside the settee, with his head on her thighs and sobbed relentlessly. The woman signalled to her son to bring him nearer. Gently he moved him sideways until he was able to lay his head on her chest. He saw his mother's arms convulsively grasp him to her.
About the Author:
I am nearly 86, and writing has been my hobby since I was 15. I am the fool berated by Dr Johnson because I do not write for money all my stories are free and the site is without advertising. www.rayhunsley.co.uk. I enjoyed myself so much I thought others might like to read them as well. www.rayhunsley.co.uk
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