Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Polly waits until she’s sure that Dudman
The butler has gone down stairs then she slips

Into Master George’s room and closes
The door. The room smells of mothballs and stale

Air. She opens a window and lets in fresh
Air. She stares at the bed where she and young

Master George made love the last time he was
Home on leave from the battlefront. She runs

Her hand over the pillowcase. Smooth. Laid
His head there. She leans over the bed and

Sniffs. Nothing but freshness of laundry. She
Sits on the bed and feels the mattress bounce

Beneath her. She wonders if he’ll be home
Later that day. Mrs Gripe the cook said

He was expected home. Polly smiles and
Closes her eyes. She hears birdsong from the

Back garden. The last time he was home he
Kissed her cheek in the upstairs passageway

On his way off to war. If she stops and
Allows she can still feel the dampened spot.

She rubs her cheek with her fingers. Susie
The other maid is downstairs in the large

Kitchen. Washing up or preparing the
Vegetables probably Polly muses

Opening her eyes. Susie doesn’t like
It when I share his room rather than squeeze

In with her in the bed in the attic.
She imagines Master George putting his

Strong arms about her and kissing her neck.
She embraces herself in her pretence.

She falls back onto the bed and stares at
The white ceiling. She imagines he is

Kissing her soft thighs with his moustached lips
Tickling her into giggles. The last night

He was there he shafted her sore. She folds
Her arms across her breast. Hope he returns

She murmurs into the room. Damn the war.