Lydia Unwell 1958 Poem by Terry Collett

Benny knocked
at Lydia's parents' flat
to see if she
was coming out
to the morning
cinema matinee,

the door opened
and her mother stood there
hair in curlers
cigarette hanging
from the corner
of her thin lipped mouth,

yes what do you want?
she said folding her arms
over her aproned breast,

is Lydia coming
to the matinee?
Benny asked,

no she's not well
got a cold or something
the mother said
letting out a puff of smoke
as she spoke,

O Benny said
sorry about that
hope she's feeling
better soon,

the mother
looked at him
I will pass on
your words she said,

could I see her
for a few minutes?
Benny said,

no she's seeing no one
the mother replied
her eyes staring at him,

he nodded
and said ok
and walked away,

the door closed behind him
with a hard click,

he walked back across
the Square disappointed
Lydia wasn't coming
but there was nothing
he could do,

he took out
his 6 shooter
toy gun out
of the holster
and spun it
around his finger
a few times like he'd seen
Billy the Kid do
in a film he'd seen,

then quickly put it back
in the holster
with a flourish,

then walked on down
the slope towards
Meadow Row,

off to the matinee
at the ABC cinema,
across the bomb site,

looking forward
to going to the cinema
with his old man
that night.