She stood by the window, watching. The postman turned round the corner on his bicycle. Her heart beat fast. Johnnie had seen him too and ran to the gate.
Then clatter, clatter up the stairs. Johnnie knocked at her door. "Granny, granny, "he shouted, "I've got your post: "
He gave her four envelopes. Three were unsealed cards from old friends. The fourth was sealed, in Myra's writing. The old lady felt a pang of disappointment.
"No parcel, Johnnie?"
"No granny."
Maybe the parcel was too large to come by letter post. That was it. It would come, later by parcel post. She must be patient.
Almost reluctantly, she tore the envelope open. Folded in the card was a piece of paper. Written on the card was a message under the printed Happy Birthday-- Buy yourself something nice with the cheque, Myra and Harold.
