Milka One Saturday Morning 1964

I watched from my bedroom window as Benny rode away; he had a wedding to go to in the Smoke he said. My mother’s car came into the drive towards the farm house; she must have seen him pass her by on the lane. I rushed making up the bed and went downstairs as quick as I could without falling down. She was unloading the boot with shopping and I helped. Saw Benny leaving, she said, where’s he going? He just popped in, I lied. He’s going to a cousin’s wedding. Good of him to pop in, she said. I helped carry two of the shopping bags into the house hoping she’d not ramble on about it.  Once in the kitchen she began putting the shopping away. She asked me to make her a mug of tea so I did, keeping on the best side of her. I made a cup of coffee for myself. She said the shops were busy; I thought of Benny and I upstairs in my bed a little while ago, and was sad to see him go. Did he cycle all that way just to tell you about this wedding? She said. Yes, I said, he’d forgotten to tell me, I said, trying to sound convincing. He’s thoughtful, she said smiling. We sat at the kitchen table drinking our drinks. She was talking about my big brother’s wedding later in the year; I recalled us making out in such a quick time before he had to leave. I gazed at her as she talked, wondering what she would have said if she had seen us earlier; I pushed such a scenario from my mind, sipped my coffee, put on my listening face so that was all she’d see.