Not Having Any 1962 Poem by Terry Collett

Yiska comes down
for breakfast
after dressing
for school.

Her mother stands
by the kitchen sink
arms folded.

Yiska sits at the table
eyes her mother
then stirs the cup
of tea her mother
had poured for her.

Well can I?
Yiska says.

Can you what?
Mother says.

Bring Benny home
lunchtime?

That boy?
The one
I met before?
Mother says.

Yes that one,
Yiska says
being as patient
as she can.

Why did you
sneak him home
the other day
while I wasn't here
and Mrs Moore
saw you?
Mother asks
unfolding her arms
and fiddling
with her apron pocket.

I didn't know
you wasn't going
to be home,
Yiska says
wondering how long
the interrogation
was going to
go on for.

What will people think
if you bring boys
home here
and I'm not here?
Mother says
watching her
daughter's expression
seeing if she is lying.

Nosey parkers
see only what
they want to see,
Yiska says.

Mother sits at the table
next to Yiska.

What did you do
with that boy?
Mother says.

Nothing
just got lunch
and talked,
Yiska says
wishing she and Benny
had done something
after all.

It looks suspicious
to those outside,
Mother says
wondering what happened
to her little girl.

Nothing happened,
Yiska says
then sips her tea.

Your brother
is a good boy
and brings me no worry,
Mother says.

Yiska sighs
and says:
Rick can do no wrong
of course he
maybe my twin
but he's
Mr Goody-Two Shoes.

That's enough of that,
Mother says angrily
wanting to slap her daughter
but not wanting to.

Yiska looks at her mother
and says:
can I bring him
home lunchtime?

Mother sighs and says:
just this once
and I expect
good behaviour
and not to bring
him home
while I am not here.

Yiska smiles
and kisses her
mother's cheek.

A peck.

Lips on
skin stuff.

Mother senses
the dampness
on her cheek
and smiles weakly.

Best behaviour,
she says.

Of course,
Yiska says
wondering if
a moment might come
when her mother's
back is turned
for a quick kiss
with Benny
better once
than not having any.