Tom's Midnight Garden - (Illustrated Edition of World Children's Literature)

Author: (English) Philippa Pearce
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-01-01
Features: If standing alone on the back door steps, Tom would let his tears flow freely; they were tears of anger. He looked reluctantly at the garden, thinking of having to leave it—leave the garden and Peter—and felt very annoyed. They had planned to have a happy holiday here. Generally, the gardens of townspeople were small, and so was the Long family’s garden: a vegetable patch, a meadow, a flower bed, and a small patch of wasteland next to the back fence. The apple tree grew on this wasteland: a large tree, but it bore very few fruits, so the grown-ups allowed the two boys to climb it freely. During this holiday, they had planned to build a little house among the branches. Tom looked for a while, then turned his gaze back to the house. As he passed under the stairs, he shouted loudly, “Goodbye, Peter!” A low, hoarse reply came from inside. He walked to the front steps and his mother was there, holding his suitcase. Tom reached for the suitcase, but Mrs. Long wouldn’t let him take it, insisting that he listen to what she had to say first. “You know, Tom,” she said, “sending you away so suddenly to avoid measles must have made you very unhappy, and we feel terrible too. Your father and I will miss you, and Peter will too. Peter has measles, and things are already very hard for him.” “I didn’t say things would be better for you after I leave,” Tom said. “I just said—”“Shh!” his mother whispered, her eyes looking past him at the road, at the car waiting there, and at the man sitting in the driver’s seat. She handed the suitcase to Tom, bent down, tugged his tie up to cover the collar, and brought her lips close to his ear. “Tom, my dear Tom—” she murmured, trying to prepare him for the coming weeks, “Remember you’re a guest, and you should try your best—oh, how should I put it—try to behave well.” She kissed Tom and gently pushed him toward the car, following him in after him. Tom climbed into the car, and Mrs. Long’s gaze went past him to the driver. “Tell Gwen hello for me,” she said, “Alan, please also tell her how grateful we are for taking Tom away so suddenly. You’re really very kind, aren’t you, Tom?” “You’re very kind.” Tom agreed listlessly. “With a patient,” Mrs. Long said, “there’s not enough room at home.” “We’re very happy to help.” Alan said this and then started the engine. Tom rolled down the window closest to his mother. “So, goodbye!” “Oh, Tom!” her lips trembled. “I’m so sorry—your summer holiday has just begun, and it’s ruined like this!” The car started moving, and Tom had to shout in reply, “I’d rather get measles with Peter—I’d rather!” Tom waved angrily at his mother, then, without considering the consequences for others, waved at the red-faced little face behind the bedroom window. Mrs. Long looked up and immediately raised her hands in despair, rushing into the room—Peter should be resting in bed. Tom closed the window, leaned back in his seat, and said nothing, coldly. His uncle cleared his throat and said, “Well, I hope we’ll get along well.” This wasn’t a question, so Tom didn’t answer. He knew it wasn’t polite, but he made excuses in his mind: he didn’t like Uncle Alan very much and didn’t want to like him either. In fact, he would rather have an uncle who was rough. “If he dares to hit me even once,” Tom thought, “I can run home, and my parents will say I did the right thing, even though I’ll have to be quarantined for measles. But he won’t dare touch me, I know. And Aunt Gwen—she’s even worse, she likes children and is very gentle. Staying in a tiny apartment, like in prison, with Uncle Alan and Aunt Gwen for several weeks.” He had never been to their house before but knew they lived in an apartment without a garden. They drove silently along the way. They passed through Ili, but they only stopped for Alan Kitson to buy an art postcard of a church tower. For Tom. He didn’t let Tom climb the tower, and Tom was extremely disappointed. But his uncle patiently explained to him, pointing out that it was completely impossible: he was still in quarantine for measles. He couldn’t be around Peter for fear of catching measles from him; he couldn’t be around other people either, in case he had already caught measles from Peter. Fortunately, both Mr. and Mrs. Kitson had already had measles. They drove through Ili and Fens, then through Castleford, and continued on toward where Mr. and Mrs. Kitson lived. It was a large house that had been converted into apartments. Small new houses，，，、。The apartment building was the only large house among them: rectangular, simple, and dignified.