What impressions does the writer create of the Lennox family in these lines? (5 marks)
My father struggled through the door of the shop with an enormous can of paraffin in each hand,
which he deposited with a clank and a slosh next to the barrel of sawdust in the corner. I hoped his cigarette didn't jump over there.
"Careful,' my mother warned as I entered the kitchen. She was making sausage, egg and chips
for and her entire attention was concentrated on the chip pan as the sausages and eggs
started to go black in the frying pan. Tea's ready. she said, giving the chip pan a cautious little
shake as if she would have been much happier with a fire extinguisher in her hand, Get Patricia.
She's not very well,' I told her.
Mother raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. Just get her, Ruby.'
The rest of the evening was spent quietly. Father was out as usual, Patricia was in her room
reading, also as usual. I was also in my room playing Scrabble with myself while my teddy
looked on. My mother was in the kitchen with only her piles of ironing for company.
Eventually she abandoned the ironing and, clutching her forehead all the way up the stairs, she swallowed
a double dose of sleeping pills and dropped into oblivion on her bed. I heard my father come
in much later, tripping and cursing his way upstairs and I drifted into the night. I was dreaming
about the end of the world and so it was in some ways.
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Explanation:
My father struggled through the door of the shop with an enormous can of paraffin in each hand,
which he deposited with a clank and a slosh next to the barrel of sawdust in the corner. I hoped his cigarette didn't jump over there.
"Careful,' my mother warned as I entered the kitchen. She was making sausage, egg and chips
for and her entire attention was concentrated on the chip pan as the sausages and eggs
started to go black in the frying pan. Tea's ready. she said, giving the chip pan a cautious little
shake as if she would have been much happier with a fire extinguisher in her hand, Get Patricia.
She's not very well,' I told her.
Mother raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. Just get her, Ruby.'
The rest of the evening was spent quietly. Father was out as usual, Patricia was in her room
reading, also as usual. I was also in my room playing Scrabble with myself while my teddy
looked on. My mother was in the kitchen with only her piles of ironing for company.
Eventually she abandoned the ironing and, clutching her forehead all the way up the stairs, she swallowed
a double dose of sleeping pills and dropped into oblivion on her bed. I heard my father come
in much later, tripping and cursing his way upstairs and I drifted into the night. I was dreaming
about the end of the world and so it was in some ways.