Ice Cream

The loud, disturbing tune alerts everyone in the street.  It's just after the evening meal, but nevertheless most of the back doors are flung open as the children rush out – money grasped tightly in their hands.  But, what about the mother who hasn't three shillings or more to spare?  Her children have come out only to watch wide eyed as the other children walk away with large cornets overflowing with soft ice cream smothered in chocolate sauce. Her empty handed bigger children remain dry-eyed – her little ones have tear streaked faces.  The mother, who has followed them out, frustrated and worried, shouts at them, "Don't be so bloody soft – you're not getting any - so that's that."  After a pause she adds, "You've just had your tea." But it was only baked beans on toast, cheap and reasonably filling, which they have most days. She turns her back on them and lights another cigarette.

Joan H

© 2016 Yeadon Writers

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