Richard isn’t at school today.
He wasn’t there yesterday, either.
When I get home, my mother seems sad.
She crouches, looking into my eyes with hers.
“Richard’s Mummy is – “
My mother has tears now.
I don’t ask her why, I wait.
I feel uncomfortable.
“Richard hasn’t got a Mummy now.”
She is crying but still smiling.
Crying and smiling. And crying.
Is it funny about Richard’s Mummy?
Why does she keep smiling?
How can Richard not have a Mummy?
He does, and she brings him to school.
He is five like me. We all have Mums.
All my friends at school.
“Where is she….?” I urge.
My mother is doing it again,
the crying and smiling together.
“Richard’s Daddy – “
“He – “
“His Daddy tied her up….
to the bannister –“
Why?
WHY?
My small young mind tries to make
an image now, of this strange scene.
“He was –
Just playing….. they were –
They were playing a game – ”
What? What game?
Mums and Dads don’t play games.
“Then he…Richard’s Daddy – “
She keeps stopping. Stop. Cry
Smile. Talk. Stop. Talk. Cry.
“He put a sock in her mouth – “
My mother forgets about her smiling
and just does her crying now.
I am quiet. And thinking. So hard.
Did Richard’s Mummy and Daddy go mad?
Or was Richard playing the game too?
“Then he went out…. Richard’s Daddy –
And the sock – “
Why does my mother keep crying?
“Richard’s Mummy couldn’t breathe – “
Why did his Daddy go out,
leaving his Mummy all tied up?
“It was ….. just a game – “
A game? I don’t understand.
I wonder where Richard’s Mummy is.
I cannot ask Richard, because
he doesn’t come to school again.
Maybe he is helping his Mummy
to get untied.
I hope he takes the sock out soon.
Richard’s Mummy
