Lydia's mother
sliced the bread thinly
and buttered sparingly
and handed Lydia
two limp slices
and said
get that inside you
can't have you going
everywhere
with your stomach rumbling
people'd think
you've not been fed
Lydia took the two slices
and a mug of stewed tea
but she hadn't been fed
that was why
she went and got
the rolls and bread
but she said nothing
just nodded her head
and followed her mother
into the living room
and sat at the table
her big sister
had gone to bed
her father was sleeping
off the beer
Lydia nibbled like a mouse
a thin long haired girl
of a mouse
can I go up West?
she asked
up West?
her mother repeated
as if her daughter
had sworn at her
up West?
she said again
turning the words around
in her head
to see how they fitted in best
can I?
her daughter
asked again anxiously
you can in the sense
that it's possible
but if you mean may
as a permissibility
then no
her mother said
what?
Lydia said
uncertain where
she was
in her request
your gran always said
that the difference
between can and may
is one of possibility
over permissibility
said Lydia's mother
may I go?
Lydia asked softly
no you may not
her mother said
why not?
her daughter asked
because I said so
her mother replied
why do want to go there?
her mother asked
Benedict said
he was going there
and that he'd take me
Lydia replied
oh him
her mother said
she sat and took a bite
from her sandwich
picturing the boy
from upstairs
in the flats
with his hazel eyes
and big smile
and self assurance
about him
why does he want to go
up West?
she asked
he likes adventures
Lydia said
adventures?
her mother said
repeating the word
as if
it were unknown to her
who does he think he is
Biggles or someone
like that?
Lydia sat nibbling
frowning
holding the bread
in her thin hands
he's never mentioned Biggles
Lydia said
don't talk
with your mouth full
her mother scolded
Lydia swallowed
the bread
he's not said nothing
about no Biggles
Lydia said
well you can't go
her mother said firmly
looking at her daughter's
thin frame
and lank long hair
do you mean I mayn't?
Lydia uttered gently
I said what I mean
her mother said
and don't get mouthy
like your big sister
or you'll feel
my hand
across your backside
Lydia nibbled
and looked away
a train steamed crossed
the railway bridge
leaving grey white smoke
behind it
lingering there
unsettling the air
her mother muttered words
but Lydia didn't listen
she watched clouds
cross the sky darkly
carrying a storm
or rain
she liked her backside
as it was
she didn't want
no pain
she'd not ask
again.
A YOUNG GIRL IN LONDON IN 1950S AND HER MOTHER.