Robbie’s Supermarine Spitfire


Robbie woke up at the crack of dawn. He ran to his parent’s bedroom jumping on their bed giving both of them a fright.

“Mum, dad, wake up. Can I open my presents?”

“Five minutes Robbie, please?” his mother said sleepily, turning over.

“Ok mum.”

Robbie’s mother felt guilty and got out of bed.

“Oh alright, go downstairs and watch TV while we prepare your presents.”

Robbie did as he was told, hoping that one of his presents would be the Supermarine Spitfire. He had collected and put together all the World War II planes and this was the last remaining one to finish his proud collection.

Half an hour later he was unwrapping his presents. So far he’d received two books, a video game, a fun gun that shot foam bullets and a camera. There was one present left to unwrap. He closed his eyes and made a wish.

“Please let it be the Supermarine Spitfire.”

Sadly it wasn’t. It was a box of Slimy Science. Even though he loved Slimy Science, Robbie tried to hide his disappointment and his mother tried to soften the blow.

“I looked everywhere for the Spitfire Robbie but it’s out of stock and the shops won’t have it until Christmas.”

“It’s ok mum, don’t worry.”

He was a good boy, grateful and kind and didn’t want to upset his parents, who always went to a lot of trouble to give him what he wanted.

Robbie’s mother had almost got in to a fight at the local toyshop. As she reached for the last remaining Spitfire on the shelf another woman put her hand out at the same time. They battled with each other for a couple of seconds until Robbie’s mother let go. She pleaded with the woman to let her have it but the woman was having none of it.

“You’re not the only one who has a story you know,” the woman said rudely.

“Sorry.” Robbie’s mother muttered, feeling ashamed of her behaviour.

A few days later Robbie went to visit his grandmother in hospital. He adored her and loved hearing her stories of the war. It was because of her stories that he became so interested in warplanes. She hadn’t been well for weeks so his parents made it a point never to miss a Sunday visit.  They always brought lunch and if she felt up for it they would take her out for a walk around the garden.

As they arrived at the ward, where his grandmother was, the nurse hurriedly stopped them from going in. Robbie’s mother’s face turned red with embarrassment realising it was the same woman she fought with in the toyshop.

“Robbie, can you sit down for a minute while I talk to your parents,” the nurse said stroking his cheek.”

Robbie sat down knowing full well what his mother was going to tell him when she came back, trying to force back the tears. She had done her best to prepare him, but she knew it would still come as a shock.

His parents came out and sat down either side of him.

“I’m so sorry Robbie, Grandma has gone to sleep but the last thing she did was to send someone to buy you a special birthday present.”

Robbie’s mother handed him a wrapped box with his name on scrawled on top in shaky writing. As he tore the paper his tears turned to cries of joy holding the Supermarine Spitfire in his hands.


Goodnight Sleep Tight

Angelica Galea Young

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