John sits
on the school coach
by the window
next to Goldfinch
watching the trees
and fields
and cottages go past.
Goldfinch is talking
of football:
who do
I put
in goal lunchtime
as Potts is way,
who do you think?
Goldfinch says.
Not me that's,
for sure,
John says,
his mind
isn't on Goldfinch
or the goal,
but on Elaine
sitting over
the other side
of the coach.
He looked at her
when she
and sister
got on the coach,
but she looked away,
and not at him.
He guesses she
was shy after all
the rumpus since
Elaine's mouthy sister
told everyone
on the coach
that he had
kissed Elaine.
But it soon
died down
and apart
from a few
How's the Frump Elaine?
When he got on
and later
when Elaine got on,
then it died out.
Now the kids
are talking amongst
themselves or listening
to the music
from the coach radio,
some pop song
about loving somebody.
Need someone
by lunchtime,
Goldfinch says,
whom do you suggest?
Green might,
he ain't bad,
John says.
Green? He couldn't
save a 1p
for Christmas;
someone else,
Goldfinch says.
John doesn't
care who,
he's thinking
of Elaine
and whether she'll
let him kiss
her again
after the rumpus;
he hopes so,
although he's
not sure
he'll be welcome
at Elaine's home now.
Why did her sister
tell like that?
He muses,
listening
half heartedly
to Goldfinch's talk,
it was just a quick
kiss not
too passionate
and it was only
while her mother
was out of the room
briefly that day.
He looks over
to where Elaine
is sitting quickly
to see if she's
looking his way,
but she isn't
she's staring out
the window.
Her sister
glares at him,
so he looks away,
and back out
of the window
and the passing view,
not sure
what to think
or what to do.