LYDIA'S MORNING 1958

A GIRL IN LONDON IN 1958 AND HER SISTER AND THOUGHTS OF A BOY AND HER MOTHER.

You wake up,
and your big sister, Gloria,
lies beside you
in the bed;

(her Spiv boyfriend
and she have a had
a row, and he
no longer sleeps

in the bed with her.)
Most of the night
she snored, and now
and then passed wind,

or called out
the boyfriend's name;
but you, Lydia,
drifted in and out

of sleep like driftwood
on the seashore.
You wonder
what day it is,

and scratch your head,
and look at your
sister's back at the pink
bra thing she wears,

which you can see
through her thin nightie.
Saturday, yes, Saturday
because your father

came home last night,
at some god knows
what awful hour,
drunk, and singing

in the passage
some Irish song
to your mother,
and she was guiding him

to the bedroom,
and he was singing
quite loudly,
which woke you up,

then it went silent again.
You sit up in bed
and look around the room;
your sister's clothes

are cast over the chair
to her left,
a pair of underwear
hangs abandoned

on the bedpost
at the foot of the bed.
You climb out
of the bed

and let your feet
dangle over the side,
your small
nine year old toes

wiggle.
Then you get up
and walk through
the sitting room,

walk past the sideboard,
and into the passage
then along to the toilet,
where you disrobe

and unload.
You think of Benny,
who said he was going
to the cinema

and did you want
to go with him;
he asked yesterday
on the way home

from school.
See what Mum says,
you said to him,
see if she has money to spare.

No matter about her,
Benny said,
I've money enough
for us both;

only going to be a shilling
if that, he said.
You sit and sigh,
and look at the white wall.

Maybe, you think,
Mum will
let me go,
after all.