Milka sat on the grass outside the farmhouse. It was a warm day and insects buzzed the air. Benny had just gone off on his bike; she hadn't wanted him to go, but he had to be some place else and he had ridden off. Her mother had arrived and was carrying bags of shopping from the boot of the car into the house. She gave Milka a look as if to say: You could help, but said nothing, hoping that a look would indicate the need, but Milka looked back at the road hoping Benny would return to her. Although they'd had *** in her bed-while her mother was out shopping- she felt she needed him still, as if the *** had not been enough, as if her appetite was bottomless. The mother disappeared inside the house, then came out again to the car for more bags. You could help rather than sit there looking into space, her mother said. Milka got up from the grass and made her way over to the boot of the car and picked out two of the lighter bags and carried them behind her mother into the house and placed them on the kitchen table. Anything else? Milka said. Her mother looked at her and saw the stance of her daughter and how reluctant she seemed to be of any real use and shook her head. No, wouldn't want to put you out in anyway, the mother said. I can help if you want me to, Milka said. Make me a drink of tea, then, her mother said. Milka filled the kettle with water and put it on the stove and lit up the stove with a match, then put three spoonfuls of tea into the teapot. She took two cups and saucers from the cupboard and laid them on the top. Her mother put away the groceries and then sat down at the table and watched her daughter going about the task of tea making. What have you been doing while I’ve been shopping? Her mother asked, you were in bed when I left. Milka looked at her mother. The kettle began to boil. She said, got up and washed and dressed and ate breakfast. Her mother's eyes scanned her. That all? Her mother said. Had she seen Benny along the road? Had she passed him? She gazed at her mother for any clues or maybe a hint as if her mother was testing her. Benny came for a while, Milka said, he's just gone. I know, I saw him along the road riding his bike, her mother said, he waved. The two females looked at each other for a few moments in silence. What did you do? Her mother asked. Questions and questions. As if she suspected. She looked at her mother's face. Took in the eyes. I showed him the baby piglets, Milka said, he thinks they're cute. She had shown him the piglets just before he'd left. After the ***. After the *** and while she was still damp and yet still hungry for it. He's a good boy, her mother said, I like him. I know you do. If only you were younger. Milka nodded and looked at the kettle boiling and whistling away on the stove. She put the hot water in the teapot and stirred the tea-leaves around with a spoon. He'd make a good farm helper, her mother said, shame he's otherwise engaged in that nursery work. Milka poured two cup of tea and added milk and sugar. She took both cups in saucers to the table and sat down. He has worked on a farm he told me, Milka said, when he was thirteen helping out after school. Her mother smiled. And sipped her tea. It'd be good if he worked here, her mother said, on the farm. Yes, you'd like that wouldn't you, having him about the place so you could fuss over him, wishing you were younger, wishing you were a girl again. Ask him, Milka said, knowing he wouldn't, knowing he was happy where he was. I will next time I see him, her mother said. Milka sipped the tea. She still felt damp and sticky. She'd go up and wash down later. She watched her mother sipping tea, looking at the table, thinking. If only you knew what we did earlier, you'd not think him so good. She moved her bottom on the chair, to get comfortable. The image of Benny in her bed was still stuck there in her head. Her arms around his waist. He entering her. She sighed. Her mother looked up at her. What’s up with you? She asked, studying her daughter closely. Stomach pains, Milka said, the first thing that came up in her head. Her mother studied her. Can't believe you're that age, her mother said, don't seem long ago you were pushing a dolls pram around the place. I'm fifteen and have the week coming up, Milka said, pulling a face. When I was your age I’d started work, her mother said. I will when I leave school in July, Milka said, secretly rubbing herself below. Time flies, her mother said, draining her cup of tea, must get on with the housework. She stared at Milka. You can help by tidying your bed and your room, she said. The bed. She had tidied it a bit after the ****** acts, but it may need proper seeing to. Yes, I'll do it when I've drunk my tea, she said, hoping her mother wouldn't venture in her room before her, hoping she'd not see any signs. Make sure you do. I've never seen such an untidy room, her mother said. If she'd seen it earlier it was a right mess. Seen us. At it. She blushed. Her mother had gone. She felt herself redden in the face. What if she had returned early? What if she had opened the door? Her heart missed a beat. It seemed too surreal to think about. Where was Benny now? Seventeen and at work for two years and she wants him here working? If she knew. She went to the window and peered out. It was warm out and the sky was a brighter blue.
A GIRL AND HER MOTHER AND SECRETS AND DESIRES IN 1964.
