The Doll by Gallico Paul

The Doll by Gallico Paul

Sometimes one little thing can change the whole life. This story is about a true love. We will learn how poor and painful our life can be without love. There is a doctor in the centre of the novel. He is a real professional and good-looking man. He works and lives alone in a flat in the centre of London. It was a usual day, when he saw an incredible doll in the shop not far from his house. The doll was a hand-made thing, made with much love and accuracy. It impressed the doctor and he bought this doll for his niece. Later he got a call. One woman asked him to come and examine her ill niece. Her niece turned out to be the creator of these wonderful dolls. The doctor had recently bought one of her works. This young woman was ill. Many years ago she was injured in a car accident. Now she is alone and has no meaning of life. She needs to love and be loved by someone.

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The Doll by Gallico Paul

I remembered Jims description of the woman who made her.

How could a woman like that make a beautiful 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…

The Doll by Gallico Paul

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…

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