Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Terry Collett Apr 2015
Miriam sat on the coach next to the boy Benedict shed met him at Dover Priory Station as they both got in the double decker bus to the ferry port can I sit next to you? shed asked him sure hed said and moved over in the seat to allow her to sit on the already crowded bus and the bus took off to the ferry port with its packed bus of passengers Miriam didnt want to spend the next two weeks of her holiday abroad alone and even though there would be about thirty in the holiday package she knew no one and some were in couples married or otherwise or lone girls like her or the single boys whom she felt were not her kind except this boy seemed a bit different although she couldnt quite put her finger on what it was and when they got off the bus and onto the ferry she stayed near him as much as possible talking when she could or stood next to him as they looked out at the sea once the ferry had left the port and once they had arrived at Calais and disembarked from the ferry she followed him onto the coach where she said can I sit next to you? if you like he said  did you want to sit by the window? if I could she said and he allowed her to go in first and once she was settled in her seat he moved in beside her and lay his head on the back of the seat and closed his eyes she looked out the window waiting for the coach to take off are you sure you dont mind me sitting here? she asked no of course not he said not opening his eyes good to have company and pretty company she smiled and turned and gazed at her reflection in the glass of the window as best she could she never considered herself pretty what with her tight red  curly hair and her freckled face and bright blue eyes and a mouth she thought too wide she pulled a face at herself and looked away she settled back in the seat and lay her head on the rest at the back of the seat and tried to sleep for a while but she was too restless and opened her eyes and sat gazing at the passengers still boarding the coach her hands were restless she wanted to do something with them so she tucked them between her thighs out of the way and stared out the window a few stragglers were still waiting to board the coach she ought to have got the book out of her case to read on the journey now she had nothing to do but look out the window or at her fellow passengers or close her eyes and sleep she gazed at the boy Benedict beside her his eyes still closed soon be off she said to him hope its soon he replied me too she said hoping he would open his eyes and look at her but he didnt he just lay there with his eyes closed then after a few minutes the coach started up and the coach began to move from the Calais port and onto a road were off she said he opened his eyes and looked past her head about time he said and looked at the passing view she studied him sitting there with his hazel eyes and quiff of hair brown and wavy isnt it exciting she said to be actually taking off he gazed at her and smiled taking off what? from the port she said catching his smile what did you think I meant? nothing its my imagination goes riot at times she looked at him what did you think Id take off something? she said well could take off that jumper its too hot for it at the moment she raised an eyebrow is it? she said aren't you hot? he asked she supposed she was rather when she thought about and so she took of her jumper and tucked it behind her and sat back on it is that better? she asked I like the tee shirt he said she looked down at the tee shirt it had two rabbits where her ******* were what are their names? he asked what? she said the rabbits what are their names? he said I dont know she said I havent given them names he smiled how can you not name rabbits with names? she shrugged theyre not real rabbits theyre only printed rabbits on cloth she said still rabbits though he said printed or otherwise she smiled ok what shall I call them then?she asked thats up to you he said what names do rabbits have? all sorts of names she said did you have rabbits as a child? he asked yes I did she said reflecting back two white ones Fluffy and Snowy she said smiling so which one will be Fluffy and which Snowy he asked pointing to the two printed rabbits on her tee shirt you choose she said which one looks most like Fluffy? he studied the two rabbits closely mmm think the one of the right looks more fluffy than the one of the left so that one is Snowy? she asked yes I guess so he said the driver switched on the radio and classic music filled the coach thats Chopin Benedict said what is? she said I thought we decided on Snowy no the music he said its a Chopin piece is it? she said yes a sonata I think she gazed at him and he looked at her so how often will you feed the rabbits? feed them? she said sure you got to feed rabbits or theyll die of hunger he said smiling theyre not real rabbits she said smiling at him they look real he said sitting there all kind of innocent and hungry but theyre not real except maybe I will feed them later just to please you she said o good he said and dont forget to give them plenty of strokes rabbits like to be stroked maybe later I will she said looking at him taking in his bright hazel eyes gazing at her eyes of bright blue maybe later she said you can stroke them too.
A BOY AND GIRL SET OUT FROM DOVER FOR A HOLIDAY WITH THIRTY OTHER PASSENGERS ABROAD IN 1970.
Terry Collett Apr 2015
I had a bow
over my shoulder
and threes arrows
tucked in

a mother-made quiver
and was walking over
Meadow Row bomb site
with Janice beside me

-my Maid Marian-
what are you going
to shoot?
she asked

isn't it dangerous?
gran would say
it was dangerous
no the arrows

have got suckers
on the end
they're meant to stick
onto a surface

not enter into it
I said
so what are you going
to hit Benny?

a target on a wall
I tell her
she form an O
with her mouth

what target on a wall?
she said
as we came
to a brick wall

of a bombed out house
here will be the target
I said
she stood and watched

as I drew the outline
of a man with chalk
-a kid always has
a piece of chalk

in his pocket
as well as string
and marbles-
who is it meant to be?

she asked
doesn't look like
anyone I know
it's just a target

an outline of a man
I drew in eyes
nose and mouth
and a heart

and stand back
there is the target
I said
what now?

she said
I stand back a pace or so
and try hit the heart
with an arrow

I said
she nodded her head
so that her fair hair moved
and the red beret shifted

on her head
we walked back
a few paces
over the stones

and rubble
of the bomb site
until we reached
a distant I could hit

the drawn target
I removed the bow
from my shoulder
and took an arrow

from the quiver
and licked the sucker end
of the arrow
then placed the arrow

onto the string
and drew the arrow back
with my fingers
holding the **** firmly

will you hit his heart?
Janice said
I eyed along my arm
and arrow sucker

and at the drawn heart
and released the ****
and the arrow whizzed
through the air

and hit and stuck
to the wall
just on the edge
of the drawn heart

almost got it
Janice said
almost killed him
I walked to the target

and pulled off the arrow
it would have
killed him anyway
I said

can I have ago?
she asked
what if your gran
sees you?

I thought you said
she said it was dangerous?
she did
Janice said

but I won't tell her
I had ago
and she won't see me
what if she did?

I asked
she hesitated
taking the bow
from my hand

and she looked around
the bomb site
and over at the road
over the way

then back along
Meadow Row
satisfied her gran
was not around

she took the bow
from my hand
and the arrow
and attempted to put

the **** end
onto the string
how's it go?
she asked

I showed her
and her thin fingers
held the arrow in place
and the other thin fingers

held the bow
she closed an eye
and looked down
her thin arm

at her other hand
and the sucker end
of the arrow
got it?

I asked
got what?
she asked
the heart in view

I said
no I can't see it
you have
the wrong eye closed

I tell her
o
she said
and closed

the other eye instead
o yes now I see it
she said
as she drew back

the **** end
of the arrow
then she released it
and the arrow shot

through the air
and bounced off
the target
by the drawn head

it didn't stick
she said
you didn't licked
the sucker end

with spit
I said
yuk
she said

and handed me back
the bow
wiping her small hands
on her flowery dress

if gran had seen me
do that
I'd be in
for a good hiding

she said
I walked off
over the rubble
to get my arrow

and she stood watching
with the noon day sun
over her
fair haired head

you'd have killed
maybe
I called over
and said.
A BOY AND GIRL IN LONDON IN 1955.
Terry Collett Apr 2015
As soon as she closed her bedroom door Sophia began to undress daj spokój she said in Polish come on she said in English Benedict stood staring what if your parents come back? he said they not come for ages she said go out to dinner with friends but Benedict was unsure he stood there watching her undress you just come to watch? she said standing there in her underclothes we have only just come back from the cinema he said can't we just have a coffee first and maybe think about it? no we not time for coffee we have *** she said gazing at him sternly he began to take off his clothes listening out for voices or a door closing or opening not worry they not be back we have hours before they back she said removing the last of her clothes and pulling back the bed covers he looked at the bed at the pillows at her standing there completely bare your father speaks little good English last time I was here he misunderstood me then how can I explain this? not time to explain now she said getting into the bed and watching him ******* reluctantly his eyes on her his heart pumping fast imagining her father coming up the stairs and finding him there she patted the bed beside her I am ready she said let us get going he stood undressed and climbed into the bed beside her she turned and switched off the lamp beside the bed then turned to face him again he saw her outline in the light of the moonlight coming through the window she touched his pecker with her slim fingers he felt unready for anything he wanted to go home and be somewhere safe she kissed him and put a hand on his back he put his hand on her thigh felt soft skin I see you have no crucifix on your wall above the bed like your parents have he said no I don't want Jesus see me at night in bed or get up in morning she said my parents are old fashion Catholics I think differently about things she kissed him on the lips her tongue entered his mouth and moved around his tongue he gagged and she moved her tongue away and sat back what matter now? first you have no stiff now you not like the tongue why you here? she said moodily he sighed you said come back to your place for coffee nothing about this he said you not like me not fancy me? she said yes I do but I’m not ready he said we wait a while she said laying back on the pillow he lay back too they faced each other neither touching how long have you lived here in England? he asked I came when I was nine years old he nodded your mother she's Italian? Sophia nodded yes my father he Polish they met after the War in Italy she said why did they come here to live? he asked my father come here with a job he get and bring us here too she said her hand felt for his pecker and touched he stirred looked at her in the semi-dark he touched her leg with his right hand she kissed him and put a hand around his neck you like me? she asked yes I do but what if your parents come back? you worry too much they not come back yet she said licking her lips she pulled him closer to her body you not like ***? she asked he sighed and looked past her at the window at the moonlight yes I do but I can't relax just in case he said in case of what? I tell you not come back long time she said in a fast movement she was on top of him and leaning breathing over him licking his chest he lay there pinned to the bed I really can't he said yes you can she said I feel stiffness of it she said come on we have it he looked past her head at the patterns on the ceiling made by the moonlight and trees swaying she worked on him and moved and moved and he sensed her moving and the light came and went the moonlight gone then there he put his hands on her thighs and felt a swimming sensation as if he were in water or swaying or he didn't know what but the bed moved and so did she and he and the moonlight was gone and there was darkness and perfume and body and lips and he felt himself as if swimming fast as waves lifted him and let him down then up and he thought he heard sirens or maidens or voices  and her lips were on his and her tongue entered and he swallowed her up and or though he had and she said come come and he heard angels sing or maidens moan or sirens on rocks or voices downstairs or calling voices from the shore was her parents or sea waves and she brought him around and over and now he was riding the waves of the sea and she lay there spread like an eagle wings wide and he kissed her lips her neck her cheek her nose as he dipped and rose and she began to sing or sigh or laugh or call and the waves lifted high and then low and he kissed her ******* then he swam and swam as he rose and fell and sounds came and went maidens calling angels singing or calls from a far off shore lights flashed in his head or was it the wall and she entered her tongue and **** and **** and he skimmed the high waves and slide into the rise and fall and voices or angels singing or maidens calling from a nearby shore was that her parents calling or singing he wasn't sure.
A BOY AND GIRL AFTER A CINEMA DATE IN 1969
Terry Collett Apr 2015
Frock. Fiona’s frock. She found it in her mother’s wardrobe while clearing out her mother’s clothes after her death in a car crash. Why had she saved it? Fiona mused, taking out the frock, holding it at arm’s length. Her Uncle Will had bought it for her for her tenth birthday. She remembered the day, him giving her a parcel wrapped in coloured paper with a ribbon attached. He stood with his large brown eyes on her as she opened it excitedly. Black with white lace. She had held it against her, felt the softness of the material against her cheek; smelt the cleanness, newness of it. Try it on, he had said, rubbing his hands together. She ran upstairs to her bedroom, took off her party dress of pink, put on the black frock. She stood in front of the large mirror and turned around. She smiled; it made her look grown up. She turned again. When her eyes looked in the mirror she saw her Uncle Will standing by the door gazing at her. She turned and flushed. Do you like it? He had asked, his eyes studying her. She did like the frock, liked the way it felt against her skin, the way it looked on her, made her feel older. She smiled, said it was beautiful, turned around for him to see her. She brushed back hair from her face, felt her face flush with a mixture of excitement and embarrassment. He had come to her, kissed her cheek, told her she looked like a princess in the frock. She had laughed, turned again and when she stopped, he held against him for a few moments, brushed a few strands of hair from her cheek. That was only the beginning, she reflected now, putting the black frock on her mother’s bed, standing back, gazing at the frock that had brought misery into her life. She sighed. Took a deep breath. She thought it had been thrown out years before. Why had her mother kept it? She looked quickly through the wardrobe, threw bundles of her mother’s clothes into black bags, carried them down to her car for the charity shops. The frock lay on the bed where she had put it. When she went back to the room, she tried to avoid looking at it. She carried out a search of the room for other items of clothing, took them all out until the room was empty of her mother’s belongings. She sat on the bed, picked up the frock. She smelt it. It smelt of mothballs and her old scent. She felt the material with her fingers. Rubbed it between finger and thumb. Don’t you like it? A voice said in her head. Yes, yes, I love it, her ten-year-old voice said. Very much? Yes, very much. She threw the frock back on the bed. Wiped her hands on her jeans, sighed deeply. For a few moments she felt she could feel his hands on her waist again, sense his breath on her neck. It was not this room, but another up along the passageway, that was hers that he had entered and closed the door behind him. He stood there that day, the smile on his face, kindly looking, and gentle in voice. She had been just about to change back into her pink party dress when he entered. He stared at her in her underclothes. He asked why she wasn’t wearing the frock he had bought. She grabbed up the pink party dress, held it against her. She wanted to save it for another occasion. For him another time. He nodded. He said he’d take her out for a special meal to celebrate her birthday the following day. He’d asked her parents and they had thought it a great idea, as he was her godfather and had bought her the lovely frock. She felt a mixture of unease and happiness. He walked to her, took away the pink party dress, placed it on a chair by the window. She felt a chill, hugged herself with her arms. She got up quickly from the bed, went to the window with her back to the bed and the frock. It had happened that day. She felt sick. Wished her brain could be drained of the memory. The trees had got bigger since she was that child; the roses had spread along the garden reaching higher and wider than they had then. She told no one. Whom could she tell? Who would believe her? Uncle Will? No one would have thought it possible, not by him, not ever. She turned, stared at the frock on the bed. He had made her wear it, made her put it on again. He sat her on his lap, hugged her. His hands rubbed her thighs, pushing the frock upward. She ran to the bed, grabbed the frock and attempted to rip it apart, but nothing happened, it remained in one piece. She ******* it up, threw it across the room. It landed by the window. The sunlight shone on it. The black looked almost evil. As if it had a life of its own. She walked to the window, kicked the frock into a corner, and glared at it. If only it had been him she could have kicked; him she could try to rip apart. But it was too late. He had died with her mother in the car crash. That was why she wouldn’t visit her mother anymore; not while he lived there with her mother; doing things together; sleeping together. Him. And her. And her father gone off with some young girl some years back and was living in New York. Just this now. The house was hers she guessed. And all this. The frock lay there. Still. Unmoving. Black with white lace. No one knew what had happened that day, except her, him and the frock. Black with white lace. Just there. Huddled. Black and evil. The scent of dress lingered; the smell of him lingered in its folds, the innocence of her childhood soaked into the very fabric, drawn from her that day, filtered piece by piece from her on her bed in that room wearing that frock.
A WOMAN FINDS AN OLD FROCK OF HERS THAT REMINDS HER OF A CHILDHOOD ABUSE.
Terry Collett Apr 2015
I miss you
coming in
and out each day;

I miss your quiet
presence as you stood
and thought;

I miss you standing
behind me as I write,
your soft spoken words
as you pointed out
an error in my work.

I miss your being here,
your wandering
from room to room
looking out for food;

that laughter,
that way you had
with wit and humour.

I miss you, my son,
miss the being of you
in my life.

I miss the presence
of you as each day
goes by;

I know you
are there
as I silently cry.
A FATHER TALKS TO HIS DEAD SON.
Terry Collett Apr 2015
YOU'VE GOT NITS!
Helen's mum
bellowed out

who've you been
locking heads
with at school?

Helen said
a girl's name
sit elsewhere

have to sit
where we're put
Helen cried

kneeling down
as her mum
combed her hair

with a comb
her mum sighed
I'm sorry

not your fault
her mum said
kissing her

daughter's tear
dampened cheek
Helen's hair

was washed with
Derbac soap
and her mum

combed her hair
through and through
then later

rinsed it through
and combed it
and combed it

what a stink
that stuff's got
her mum said

without her
spectacles
Helen was

almost blind
just a blur
of colours

and odd shapes
but the damp
kiss on cheek

would last her
long after
the Derbac
shampoo's reek.
A GIRL HAS A DOSE OF THE NITS IN 1954.
Terry Collett Apr 2015
Nima doesnt see why she held be in a psychiatric ward when shes not psychiatric in any form whatsoever shes a drug addict for ***** sake pure and simple and she ought to be elsewhere but not here with these other people who do have problems but even to say the word to her parents drug addict sends them to panic and a form of denial better to have mental issues and tucked in here rather than have her their daughter labelled as a drug addict once her father- a doctor- when she was young would smack her if she crossed any boundaries he made for her but when she had grown that didnt work any more especially after the last time when he tried it and she bit his thumb and he slapped her face and she kicked his shins sending hoping around the room like loony dancer since then he had given up on any form of outer control and her mother also a doctor never knew how to control her daughter once she was out of nappies they had her put here not quite sectioned but as near as they could and visited hardly ever although her mother did come a few times out of curiosity but stayed only to see how Nima was doing or not as the case was and left Nima sits in the lawn area beyond the French windows in one of the white metal chairs around a circular metal white table smoking staring at the buildings glass and bricks and concrete and at a man sitting on the grass staring at his hands she looks away just in case he looks at her last time she saw him outside he had his ***** in his hands but not this time just his hands this time she feels like fix but there is no way to have one and the difficulties she has had getting though her days without a fix is like being emptied out and squeezed and left to dry and she wants and wants and a nurse comes out dressed in blue her hair tied in a ponytail and walks towards her in swagger have you taken your pills? pills? your medication the nurse says no I dropped them down the loo Nima says youve got to take your medication why didnt you take your medication? the nurse says irritably I just need a fix Nima says not medication youre here to get you off those drugs and the medication is there to help the nurse says I dont want drugs to get me off drugs I want the fix I like Nima says those are illegal drugs its against the law the nurse states standing hands on hips staring at Nima there is moment of silence Nima looks back at the man staring at his hands holding his ***** I want whatever medication he's on Nima says pointing to the man on the grass  the nurse follows Nimas finger and says no no Eric not here and runs towards Eric waving her hands in the air Nima looks away and smiles and takes a hug intake of smoke from the cigarette and wishes Benedict would come he would break the monotony of her life bring her cigarettes and chocolates and maybe a kiss or so and she lies back in the chair and closes her eyes and dismisses the voice of the nurse and Eric cursing at her and being taken back indoors much against his will she tries to bring to mind the time Benedict came and she sneaked him along to the small broom cupboard along by the corridor-unused on Sundays- and there they had a ****** quickie amongst brooms and mops and buckets and just enough room to lay and **** and she in a nightie lifted up and ******* tossed aside on a broom handle and he there unsure but at her in the short space and time allowed she opens her eyes and stares at the trees planted here and there on the green lawn no one knew but she guessed the nurses suspected when the cleaner on the Monday found a pair of her ******* on a broom handle-she hadnt missed them until later and forgot where shed left them- now they watch her and the cupboard and Benedict when he comes especially the head nurse who Nima suspects is a *** starved woman and is jealous that a patient gets it when she cant she stubs the cigarette end out on the white table top and lets it fall on the grass she sits and stares clothed in the blue nightgown they have given her over her white nightdress-in case she should attempt to escape without permission- some nights she lies in her bed in the ward in the semi-dark and wants a fix and *** and as the fix is out of the question she thinks of Benedict and pretends hes there beside her in her bed- ignoring the snores and mutters of other girls and women- and attempts a rather poor organism imaging it is Benedict there and not her fingers bringing her to a climate of sorts the nurse is there again swaggering over the grass towards her you have to take your medication again doctors orders the nurse says are you sure you discarded them? what? my *******? Nima says smiling no your medication have you really discarded them? Nima shrugs and says cant remember may have done she says looking at the nurses face the nurse inhales breath and stands hands on hips if you were my daughter Id...Words were lost...the sun was hot over head...white clouds...Benedict where you? well make sure you take the next medication I shall watch you like a hawk the nurse says walking away Nima raises her middle digit in a gesture at the departing back the same digit that brought her to a higher plane maybe to night she muses itll do it again.
A GIRL DRUG ADDICT IN A PSYCHIATRIC WARD IN 1967.
Next page