One Wednesday Morning 1957.

I was going through 

my cigarette cards 

sorting out those 

I had more than one of 

to swap with other boys 

at school. 

Enid’s old man 

came down the stairs 

and passed me on his way down 

but said nothing 

and just gave me 

one of his hard man stares. 

I looked after him 

as he descended 

and went from sight. 

I put the spare cards 

in a different pocket 

and put the others 

in my jacket pocket 

ready for school. 

I stood waiting on the balcony 

for Enid to come down 

but she didn’t come. 

After quarter of an hour 

I went and knocked 

on the door of her parent’s flat. 

Her mother appeared 

and stared at me 

and said Enid had the flu 

and wouldn’t be going 

to school that day. 

She closed the door 

and I went on my way.