Read Tim for Free Online Page A

in terms of the other. He who was poorly equipped mentally was ‘not the full quid’; a value was set upon his intellectual powers, expressed in parts of the dollar or in the vernacular, quid . He might be worth as much as ninety cents or as little as nine cents, and still be not the full quid.
    Mrs Parker was not aware that she held only a small part of Mary’s attention, and chattered on happily about the insensitivity of the average male, drank several cups of tea, and answered her own queries when Mary did not. At length she heaved herself to her feet and took her leave.
    ‘Cheery-bye, pet, and thanks for the cuppa tea. If you don’t have anything he’d fancy in yer fridge, send him across to me and I’ll feed him.’
    Mary nodded absently. Her visitor disappeared down the steps, while she returned to her contemplation of Tim. Glancing at her watch she saw the time was creeping on towards nine, and remembered that these outdoor workmen liked their morning tea around nine. She went inside and made a fresh pot, thawed a frozen chocolate cake and covered it with freshly whipped cream.
    ‘Tim!’ she called, putting down her tray on the table under the vines; the sun was stealing across the ridge of the roof, and the table by the steps was getting too hot for comfort.
    He looked up, waved to her and stopped the tractor immediately to hear what she was saying.
    ‘Tim, come and have a cup of tea!’
    His face lit up with puppyish eagerness; he bounded off the tractor and up the yard, dived into the little fern-house, reappeared with a brown paper bag, and took the back steps two at a time.
    ‘Gee, thanks for calling me, Miss Horton, I wasn’t caught up with the time,’ he said happily, sitting down in the chair she indicated and waiting docilely until she told him he might begin.
    ‘Can you tell the time, Tim?’ she asked gently, amazed that she could ask gently.
    ‘Oh, no, not really. I sort of know when it’s time to go home, that’s when the big hand’s at the top and the little hand is three thingies behind it. Three o’clock. But I don’t have a watch of my own, because Pop says I’d lose it. I don’t worry. Someone always tells me the time, like when it’s time to make the tea for smoke-oh or break for lunch or go home. I’m not the full quid, but everyone knows I’m not, so it doesn’t matter.’
    ‘No, I suppose it doesn’t,’ she answered sadly. ‘Eat up, Tim, the cake’s all for you.’
    ‘Oh, goody! I love choccy cake, especially with lots of cream on it like this one! Thanks, Miss Horton!’
    ‘How do you like your tea, Tim?’
    ‘No milk and lots of sugar.’
    ‘Lots of sugar? How much is that?’
    He looked up at her, frowning, cream all over his face. ‘Gosh, I can’t remember. I just sort of fill it up until it spills into the saucer, then I know it’s all right.’
    ‘Did you ever go to school, Tim?’ she probed, beginning to be interested in him again.
    ‘For a little while. But I couldn’t learn, so they didn’t make me keep on going. I stayed home and looked after Mum.’
    ‘But you do grasp what’s said to you, and you did cope with the tractor all by yourself.’
    ‘Some things are real easy, but reading and writing’s awful hard, Miss Horton.’
    Much surprised at herself, she patted his head as she stood stirring his tea. ‘Well, Tim, it doesn’t matter.’
    ‘That’s what Mum says.’
    He finished all the cake, then remembered he had a sandwich from home and ate that as well, washing the repast down with three big cups of tea.
    ‘Struth, Miss Horton, that was super!’ he sighed, smiling at her blissfully.
    ‘My name is Mary, and it’s much easier to say Mary than Miss Horton, don’t you think? Why don’t you call me Mary?’
    He looked at her doubtfully. ‘Are you sure it’s all right? Pop says I mustn’t call old people anything but Mister or Missus or Miss.’
    ‘Sometimes it’s permissible, as between friends.’
    ‘Eh?’
    She tried