Mrs. Wood

Clara sat by the window, yawning and drinking tea. She was seven months pregnant, and the baby growing inside her was making her very tired.

Clara should have felt excited, but instead she was lonely. She and her husband had just moved to North Street, leaving behind her old job and her friends. The new house was pleasant enough, but the street was quiet, and the neighbours never spoke to her.

Her husband, Matt, worked long hours at the hospital. This meant that most evenings, Clara ate dinner alone, listening to the clock tick slowly. The silence made the house feel even bigger than it was.

Without anyone to talk to or a job to go to, the days passed slowly. As a result, Clara had started taking naps in the middle of the day.

One afternoon, there was a knock at the door. When she opened it, an old woman stood there smiling. She was wearing a red scarf and holding a small cake.

“Hello, dear. I’m Mrs. Wood. “I live two doors down, at number 23,” the woman said. “I thought you might like this.”

Clara was surprised but grateful. “Oh, thank you! That looks delicious. Please, come in, and I’ll make us some tea.”

They sat in the living room and chatted over tea and cake. Clara learned that Mrs. Wood was a widow and that her only son, Andrew, lived in another city. She also learned that Mrs. Wood had a passion for baking and made a different cake every day. They were so busy talking that the time flew by, and before they knew it, it was starting to get dark.

‘‘Goodness, look at the time,’’ said Mrs. Wood. I must be getting back. ‘‘My son visits every Tuesday, and if I don’t answer the door, he gets worried.’’

“Please come again,” said Clara. ‘‘It has been so nice to have some company. Today is the first time in weeks that I have spoken to anyone except my husband.’’

From that day on, Mrs. Wood came almost every afternoon. She always brought a small cake—chocolate, lemon, or fruit. They would sit, talk, and laugh. Clara told her about her life, and Mrs. Wood shared stories about her own childhood. For the first time since moving to North Street, Clara felt she had a friend.

One Tuesday afternoon, after Mrs. Wood had left, Clara noticed a red scarf on the sofa. It must have slipped from the old lady’s shoulders as she was getting up to leave.

She put on her coat and walked down the road to number 23, scarf in hand.

As she reached the gate, she saw someone leaving the house. It was a young man, carrying some letters. Clara guessed he must be Mrs. Wood’s son. Relieved, she held out the scarf.

“Hello! You must be Andrew.’’

‘Um, yes. “I am,” he said, with a puzzled look on his face. ’How do you know my name?’’

“I am a friend of your mother’s,” Clara continued.

The man frowned. “My mother?”

“Yes, Mrs. Wood. She lives here, doesn’t she? We’ve become friends, and she visits me every afternoon.” Clara smiled nervously.

The man’s face grew pale. He shook his head. “No… I think you must be mistaken; Mrs. Wood was my mother, but she died last year. Nobody lives here now. I’ve just come to collect the mail.”

Clara froze, staring at the scarf in her hand. It was still warm, as if someone had just been wearing it.

📒 Key vocabulary

• yawning – stretching the mouth open because of fatigue
• pregnant – when a woman is going to have a baby
• lonely – feeling alone and sad
• knock – the sound of someone hitting the door to enter
• widow – a woman whose husband has died
• grateful – feeling thankful
• gate – a door in a fence or wall outside a house
• frown – to make a serious or worried face
• pale – light in color, often because of shock or fear
• frozen – unable to move, often because of fear

🤔 Comprehension quiz

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