“Are you sure that he still loves
me?”
Her need framed my reply:
“Of course he does, my little
one.”
(I hoped it was a lie.)
“Do you think he’s going off me?”
Hot tears slipped down her face.
“I shouldn’t think so, little
one.”
(My heart danced for a space.)
“I’d die if he didn’t love me!”
“You wouldn’t, love,” I said.
(But if he goes on loving you
it’s I who’ll land up dead).
“You wouldn’t care if he chucked
me,
You wouldn’t care at all!”
“Of course I’d care if he hurt
you!”
(I’d cartwheel down the hall).
