Missing by Judy Mitchell

 

(Memorial to Commonwealth servicemen killed during the Battles of the Aisne and Marne in 1918 who have no known grave. Soissons, France).

She would have known. She was his mother. She would have felt his pain. Her mind held on to an image she had conjured of him. Dazed, lost, left by someone in a cottage or a farmhouse away from the guns. Foreign voices whispering questions he didn’t understand, unable to remember his name or where he was.

Armed with the weapon of denial, she fought off despair and the lure of mourning. Weeks later, she saw him.

Standing at the sink, she looked towards the gently rising Pennine hills and fields crossed by snaking stonewalls. He was there, at the bottom of the garden by the wall, his back towards her. When the sunlight caught the tips of his ears, she cried out and lifted her hand to knock at the window but the sun faltered and his image dissolved, extinguished by the late summer light.

She turned to see if he had come into the kitchen. Wiping her hands, she moved to the cellar head and shouted his name into the musky darkness. Silence rose to taunt her. Then she heard him.

‘Ma, is the kettle on?’

There was that teasing love in his voice and she imagined the smile playing around his lips. Maybe he had gone upstairs.

For a moment she paused on the landing, listening for any movement. The door to his room opened slowly. The air was flushed with the smell of his soap and she watched as he bent his long, straight legs to look into the mirror to comb his hair. A low ray of light crept across the bedroom window but when it found no shadows to play with, it slipped past, out of the room, leaving her alone.

The stillness grew thin and cold as she opened the wardrobe door as if to give herself an excuse for being in his space. Two empty coat hangers rattled against the wood as she closed the doors on the neat shirts and trousers.

Later, she persuaded her husband to place an advert in the newspapers. Number, name, platoon, regiment.

…missing in France since 27 May last. He is known to have been wounded and taken prisoner. Any news concerning him would be gratefully received by his parents….      

There were no replies.

Not Such a Bargain by Susie Field

 

A cold east wind, whistles and blows.

It’s a wild and stormy night.

I’m just about to fall asleep,

when on comes the security light.

 

I’m not sure it was such a bargain -

even though it was less than half price.

It seems to shine at any old time,

not so good for a brand-new device.

 

I climb out of bed. It’s freezing cold,

and I peer through my windowpane.

My eyes adjust to the darkness outside,

‘cos the light’s gone off again.

 

A lonesome fox swaggers by,

eyes bright as it stares ahead.

The security light should be on –

but it isn’t, so I’ll go back to bed.

 

I twist and turn beneath the duvet,

trapped in an endless dream.

Then the light shines brightly yet again,

and I’m caught in its eerie beam.

 

I don’t look out, though I sense someone close,

voices are calling my name.

Shadows are spreading across my room.

Fingers scraping my windowpane.

 

I’m shocked and scared as I try to hide,

my bedroom’s in darkness once more,

Why doesn’t the light begin to shine?

‘Cos there’s knocking on my door.

 

I can hear heavy footsteps on the stairs.

It’s really too much to bear.

My bedroom door swings open wide,

but there isn’t anyone there.

 

I’m now on the landing looking out.

I sense movement far below.

A shadow crosses my garden path –

and the light begins to glow.

 

 

It’s not as bright as it ought to be,

but at least it seems to be working.

Then all of a sudden, off it goes,

yet there’s definitely something lurking.

 

I creep downstairs and open the door,

shouting, “Is anyone there?”

As if they are going to answer me,

and now I no longer care.

 

I’m just about to go back inside,

when I hear a sudden sound.

Then I’m grabbed quite roughly from behind,

and fall on the hard cold ground.

 

I shout and scream. I must escape,

and I put up a desperate fight.

But this is no ordinary human form,

it’s a creature of the night.

 

I’m now flying high, there’s no escape,

as I’m held in his tight embrace.

Joining the other poor lost souls,

all dreading the danger we face.

 

Is this where it all comes to an end?

Trapped in the twilight zone.

I dread the future that lies ahead,

as I’m forced into the unknown.

 

I shouldn’t have bought the security light,

‘cos now I’m paying the price.

I’d have probably had an undisturbed sleep,

if I’d not bought that stupid device.