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A Bit of Singing and Dancing
Esme was walking along the beach. The sea was grey and a sharp wind blowing from the north raised waves. It was a cold winter afternoon. There were no people on the beach because the season in the seaside town began in spring. She thought it was time to go home for tea and entertainment on television. For the last 11 years all the TV programmes Esme watched had been chosen by her mother. Her mother was extremely fond of television.
“It’s my only pleasure,” she always said. “You can learn so much if you watch the right programme.” She had watched variety shows, light comedies, and even pop concerts. “I like a bit of singing and dancing. It cheers you up,” she said. And every evening Esme had to watch these programmes on ITV instead of seeing something cultural or educational on BBC 2. Sometimes she thought that she hated them and dreamt of the time when she would choose programmes herself. No, she would never choose such trifles!
It was two weeks since her mother died and though now Esme could choose any programme she liked, every evening she watched something light and entertaining. That night when she came back home to the small house where she lived, she felt very lonely. She switched on TV and again chose a variety show, not an educational programme, to cheer her up.
As days went by Esme felt more and more lonely. She wasn’t young, she didn’t have any friends, and there was no place to go for entertainment in the small seaside town where she lived. She decided to rent away a room. She was a good cook and life with her mother who watched TV from early morning till late at night taught her to keep the house neat and tidy. Maybe it won’t be so dull at home when you share it with a pleasant person, she thought. One day she heard a doorbell. She opened the door and saw an elderly man. He told her that he wanted to rent a room with breakfast. She expected him to explain who he was, but he was just standing and looking at her. She invited him to enter. In the house the man told her that he had just arrived in their town and wanted to stay here as the town suited for the work he would do during a summer season. He called himself Mr.Curry. Esme didn’t hesitate. She was glad to have a person in her house to look at and speak to.
Mr Curry moved in that evening. He was a very nice, quiet, serious man and Esme enjoyed having him in the house. He got up at 8 and at 8.30 he came down to the kitchen for breakfast. He was a polit person and often said how tasty things Esme cooked. It was always pleasant for her. At 9 he took his suitcase and left the house. He came back at 6, went straight to his room and Esme did not see him again until the next morning. Sometimes she heard music coming from his room, probably from the rasio, and she thought how nice it was that her house was a home for someone else. Then summer came and Mr Curry started coming home later. Esme wondered what work he was doing. One evening she decided to go and find it out.
A lot of people were walking along the beach, but Mr Curry wasn’t seen anywhere. Esme was about to go back when she heard music. And then she saw My Curry standing at the corner. There was an old record-player near him and Mr Curry was singing and dancing to the music. A couple of passers-by watched his performance. At his feet there was a hat where people put money.
Suddenly Mr Curry saw Esme. He immediately stopped the record, collected his things and left. When Esme got to the house, Mr Curry had already come. He was sitting at the kitchen table and looked so miserable that Esme felt awfully sorry for him. She came up and said, “Mr Curry, my mother always liked a bit of singing and dancing. “It cheers you up”, she usually said. And Mr Curry smiled.