INGRID'S PRETEND HOLIDAYA Poem by Terry CollettA BOY AND GIRL IN LONDON IN 1950S.![]() Benedict took Ingrid on the underground train to Charing Cross station (he having paid the fare from his 2/6d pocket money) she anxious about the journey the darkness underground the bright stations and the speed of the train and once outside she put her hands over her eyes and off again makes my eyes go funny she said does that to them bit like coming out of the cinema after a long film he said she had on a fading blue dress black plimsolls and whitish socks they came to the edge of the kerb and he looked both ways ought to cross up there by the zebra crossing but heck one's got live dangerously sometimes and he took her hand and they ran across the wide road and she gripped his hand tight and her eyes were wide and she looked at the speeding traffic taxis and buses and cars and motorcycles come on he said I'll show you where my old man takes me some Sundays and so he walked her along and into Charing Cross Road she still gripping his hand tight he talking about the West End and how sometimes his old man lets him go in the penny arcade and on the machines with their pinball machines and other machines where you can win back coins and she listened thinking about home and her mother nursing a bruised eye after her father had hit her in a fight last night and how she herself had hid under her blankets in case he came after her but he didn't and this morning he had gone off to work and her big sister said she was soon leaving home with the greasy looking bloke she was with and her big brother just sat there stuffing himself with Cornflakes and sipping stewed tea saying Ingrid looked like some Belsen kid and laughed see that cinema Benedict said my old man takes me there if a new film comes out and he wants to see it and he buys us ice creams or those orange lollies you know and she nodded but she didn't she seldom went to the cinema unless Benedict took her and they walked by shops and she looked in the windows and still griping his hand she wondered how much some of the dresses were and the hats just like her aunt wore and then Benedict took her into Leicester Square and into a milk bar and ordered two glasses of milk and biscuits from a jar and they sat down at a table by the window and she viewed it all wide eyed sipping her milk and nibbling her biscuit and pretended for that moment that they were on a special holiday and could stay at one of the big hotels that Benedict had shown her and have breakfast in bed and not have to worry about her father's loud bellowing or him coming into her room ill tempered wishing to belt her one or slap her backside as she ran from the room see that cinema? Benedict said pointing through the window my old man took me there once and we saw this famous actress some one my old man liked and Ingrid listened taking it all in watching him his quiff of hair and hazel eyes and that smiling grin and she looked out to where he pointed pushing away thoughts of home and her father's hand and stare pretending she was on holiday and didn't care. © 2013 Terry Collett |
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Added on November 18, 2013 Last Updated on November 18, 2013 AuthorTerry CollettUnited KingdomAboutTerry Collett has been writing since 1971 and published on and off since 1972. He has written poems, plays, and short stories. He is married with eight children and eight grandchildren. on January 27t.. more.. |


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