The Enchanted Doll by Paul Gallico. Part 1.
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Chapter 1 | The Doll
My name is Stephen Amony and I am a doctor. I live and work in London, and I have a house by the river Thames. Everything in this story happened because of a doll. It is a strange story, but true.
It began on an October day three years ago…
I can remember it clearly. The early morning sun was shining on the river when I left my house. I went to buy a copy of The Times, as usual.
There was a flower shop on the corner of the road where I lived. I could see the brightly-coloured flowers as I reached the corner. I turned into Abbey Lane and continued walking. I was enjoying the warm October sun.
After a few minutes, I arrived at the newspaper shop. Suddenly, I remembered that it was a niece’s birthday the next week. So I stopped and looked in the shop window.
There were games and toys, paper and pens, books and sweets in the window.
‘Most of it has been in that window for years,’ I thought to myself.
I almost decided that there was nothing in the window for my niece. Then I saw a doll.
She was half-hidden in the corner of the window. She was made of cloth and she had a painted face. The face was special. It had a lovely gentle look, but sad eyes.
Suddenly I felt sorry for her, sitting in that crowded window. I know that this sounds strange. But I decided to go inside and to look at her more closely.
The shop was owned by a man named Jim Carter.
‘Good morning, Doctor Amony!’ he said brightly, when I walked in. ‘Do you want The Times, as usual?’
‘Yes, please, Jim,’ I replied. ‘And I need a present for a little girl. It’s her birthday next week.’
‘Is it?’ said Jim.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I was looking at that cloth doll in your window.’
‘Oh?’ said Jim.
‘The one that’s half-hidden in the corner,’ I said.
Jim looked surprised. ‘That doll?’ he said. ‘She’s a little unusual.’
‘Can I see her?’ I said.
‘She’s also very expensive,’ he said.
He took the doll from the window and gave her to me – and I nearly dropped her in surprise. She was beautifully made – she seemed almost alive! Her dress and other clothes were hand-made, not made by a machine. And her face was hand-painted – I could see it clearly now.
‘She’s lovely!’ I thought. ‘She was made with a lot of love.’
I could see this love in the doll’s face.
I put her down gently. ‘How much do you want for her, Jim?’ I asked. ‘Twelve pounds, Doctor Amony,’ he answered. He saw the surprise in my face and continued, ‘She’s expensive. I did say that, didn’t I?’
‘You did,’ I agreed.
‘Dolls like this cost as much as twenty pounds in the centre of London,’ said Jim. ‘But I’ll tell you what I’ll do, doctor. I’ll sell her to you for eleven pounds.’
‘Who makes them?’ I asked. ‘I’d like to know something about the person who can make beautiful dolls like this.’
‘The woman has lived in Hardley Street for some years now,’ said Jim. ‘She sometimes comes into my shop and she brings me the dolls.’
‘What’s her name?’ I asked.
‘I’m not sure,’ Jim answered. ‘It’s something like “Callamy”.’
‘What’s she like?’ I said.
‘She’s a tall woman with red hair, and she wears very expensive coats and hats,’ replied Jim. ‘But she’s got a very serious face. She never says very much when she comes into the shop. I’m honestly always glad when she leaves.’ He stopped for a minute and then said, ‘And I’ve never seen her smile.’
I couldn’t understand this. How could a woman like that make dolls as beautiful as these?
‘I’ll buy the doll,’ I said at last.
Eleven pounds seemed a lot of money for a doll. As I counted out the pound notes, I felt a little silly. Yes, the doll was a present. But I knew the real reason for buying her – I didn’t want to leave her in that shop window.
I took the doll home and put her in my small bedroom. She seemed to fill the room with her loveliness. I carefully put her into a box. Then I covered the box with brown paper. Later, in the afternoon, I went to the post office and posted it to my niece.
Go to Part 2