Entry_Level_The Garden_05

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Part 6:

I was pleased. I thought of Mrs Jack and mygarden in the country. I wanted to go back at once. I let the shop and began towalk quickly. On the corner of the street, there was a beggar. He was old andvery thin. His clothes were dirty. He had dirty hair and red eyes. He put outhis hand. ‘Help me, lady,’ he said. ‘Help a poor old man.’

I knew his voice. I looked at him. It wasmy father. I wanted to go away. I wanted to go back to the country and forgotmy father forever. But I stood still. I felt sorry for him. ‘Father?’ I said. Hisold red eyes looked up. There were tears in them. He knew me. ‘It’s you?’ hesaid. ‘what happened to you, Father?’ I asked. ‘You ran away,’ he said. ‘you leftme. I was ill for a long time. I was lonely without you. I was a bad father,but you were always a good daughter. You worked hard. I took all your money andsometimes I hit you. I broke up your garden. I …’

‘don’t talk about it, Father,’ I said. ‘I wanted to buy whisky,’ he said. ‘but I didn’t have any money. My friends left me. they didn’t want me any more. Now I’m a lonely old man. I stand here and beg. Sometimes people give me a little money. I get a little food. I sold the furniture in the flat. But I kept your things for you.’

I thought again of my new life in the country. I felt all round the sadness of the city. I took my father’s arm. ‘Come on, Father,’ I said. ‘We’re going home.’ There was not much furniture in the flat. There were dirty cups and pates in the kitchen. There was a bad smell of dirt and old food. I looked round sadly. My father saw my face. ‘everything is dirty,’ he said. ‘I can’t clean the flat. You made everything nice. I needed you here.’

I did not say anything. I went to my room. Everything was the same. I thought of my last night at home. It was a long time ago. I went back to my father. I began to clean the flat. The next day I wrote a letter to Mrs jack. I told her everything. ‘I am sorry. I cannot work for you any more,’ I wrote. ‘I must stay here and look after my father.’ I began my old life once more. I took my old job again. I came home every evening and cooked for my father. I did not make my garden again. 

I felt too sad. My father was very different now. He did not drink any more. He looked much older. He talked to me kindly. But he lived in the past. Sometimes he talked to my mother. But my mother was dead. Sh? died a long time ago. 

Oneevening, somebody knocked on the door. I opened it. It was Msrs Jack’s son,Harry. 

He was holding a large bunch of flowers. There were flowers from my little garden in the country.