A LITTLE KNOWLEDGE.
A Story by Terry Collett
A GIRL AND HER MOTHER AND SECRETS IN 1964.
Milka sat on the grass outside the farmhouse. It was a warm day and
insects buzzed the air. Benny had just gone off on his bike; she hadn't
wanted him to go, but he had to be some place else and he had ridden
off. Her mother had arrived and was carrying bags of shopping from the
boot of the car into the house. She gave Milka a look as if to say: You
could help, but said nothing, hoping that a look would indicate the
need, but Milka looked back at the road hoping Benny would return to
her. Although they'd had sex in her bed-while her mother was out
shopping- she felt she needed him still, as if the sex had not been
enough, as if her appetite was bottomless. The mother disappeared inside
the house, then came out again to the car for more bags. You could help
rather than sit there looking into space, her mother said. Milka got up
from the grass and made her way over to the boot of the car and picked
out two of the lighter bags and carried them behind her mother into the
house and placed them on the kitchen table. Anything else? Milka said.
Her mother looked at her and saw the stance of her daughter and how
reluctant she seemed to be of any real use and shook her head. No,
wouldn't want to put you out in anyway, the mother said. I can help if
you want me to, Milka said. Make me a drink of tea, then, her mother
said. Milka filled the kettle with water and put it on the stove and lit
up the stove with a match, then put three spoonfuls of tea into the
teapot. She took two cups and saucers from the cupboard and laid them on
the top. Her mother put away the groceries and then sat down at the
table and watched her daughter going about the task of tea making. What
have you been doing while I’ve been shopping? Her mother asked, you
were in bed when I left. Milka looked at her mother. The kettle began to
boil. She said, got up and washed and dressed and ate breakfast. Her
mother's eyes scanned her. That all? Her mother said. Had she seen Benny
along the road? Had she passed him? She gazed at her mother for any
clues or maybe a hint as if her mother was testing her. Benny came for a
while, Milka said, he's just gone. I know, I saw him along the road
riding his bike, her mother said, he waved. The two females looked at
each other for a few moments in silence. What did you do? Her mother
asked. Questions and questions. As if she suspected. She looked at her
mother's face. Took in the eyes. I showed him the baby piglets, Milka
said, he thinks they're cute. She had shown him the piglets just before
he'd left. After the sex. After the sex and while she was still damp and
yet still hungry for it. He's a good boy, her mother said, I like him. I
know you do. If only you were younger. Milka nodded and looked at the
kettle boiling and whistling away on the stove. She put the hot water in
the teapot and stirred the tea-leaves around with a spoon. He'd make a
good farm helper, her mother said, shame he's otherwise engaged in that
nursery work. Milka poured two cup of tea and added milk and sugar. She
took both cups in saucers to the table and sat down. He has worked on a
farm he told me, Milka said, when he was thirteen helping out after
school. Her mother smiled. And sipped her tea. It'd be good if he worked
here, her mother said, on the farm. Yes, you'd like that wouldn't you,
having him about the place so you could fuss over him, wishing you were
younger, wishing you were a girl again. Ask him, Milka said, knowing he
wouldn't, knowing he was happy where he was. I will next time I see him,
her mother said. Milka sipped the tea. She still felt damp and sticky.
She'd go up and wash down later. She watched her mother sipping tea,
looking at the table, thinking. If only you knew what we did earlier,
you'd not think him so good. She moved her bottom on the chair, to get
comfortable. The image of Benny in her bed was still stuck there in her
head. Her arms around his waist. He entering her. She sighed. Her mother
looked up at her. What’s up with you? She asked, studying her daughter
closely. Stomach pains, Milka said, the first thing that came up in her
head. Her mother studied her. Can't believe you're that age, her mother
said, don't seem long ago you were pushing a dolls pram around the
place. I'm fifteen and have the week coming up, Milka said, pulling a
face. When I was your age I’d started work, her mother said. I will when
I leave school in July, Milka said, secretly rubbing herself below.
Time flies, her mother said, draining her cup of tea, must get on with
the housework. She stared at Milka. You can help by tidying your bed and
your room, she said. The bed. She had tidied it a bit after the sexual
acts, but it may need proper seeing to. Yes, I'll do it when I've drunk
my tea, she said, hoping her mother wouldn't venture in her room before
her, hoping she'd not see any signs. Make sure you do. I've never seen
such an untidy room, her mother said. If she'd seen it earlier it was a
right mess. Seen us. At it. She blushed. Her mother had gone. She felt
herself redden in the face. What if she had returned early? What if she
had opened the door? Her heart missed a beat. It seemed too surreal to
think about. Where was Benny now? Seventeen and at work for two years
and she wants him here working? If she knew. She went to the window and
peered out. It was warm out and the sky was a brighter blue.
© 2015 Terry Collett
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Author
Terry CollettUnited Kingdom
About
Terry Collett has been writing since 1971 and published on and off since 1972. He has written poems, plays, and short stories. He is married with eight children and eight grandchildren. on January 27t.. more..
Writing
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