'Dear Terry...' by Hilary Gregory

 

 

Love Letter

by

Hilary Gregory

Dear Terry,

I was clearing up the mess after you left, and I looked again at the knickers I’d found in your pocket on Friday. I remembered that Aunty  Flo’d given me a pair like that - with the red dots and the white bow -  for my 16th birthday and that on Tuesday,  on the way back from the twins,  I’d handed them to you, to wipe the windscreen.

Mum told me you dropped Poodle off at hers on Saturday. Then, all of a rush, Robin confessed he was lying about how you’d taken him to Christopher Hills and the vodka and the 15 film. Later, I had a talk with Dolly and she doesn’t hate you. She quite likes you and she says it’s not your fault you’re a male. Seven’s not her best age. I think she was cross I’d made her stay in to tidy her room.

And, about your not being – cool… I looked at the photo again. The one you tossed on the floor with: ‘I love Karina’ on it.  Honestly, I had to sit down. My eyes went all cloudy and then I got through one and a half boxes of Kleenex tissues before I could stop. Don’t try to imagine what I looked like. In any case, the puffiness has died down now, but I don’t want it to start up again. … I can’t go round with a hole in my heart Terry.

Please come back!

Your loving Karina

 

© Hilary Gregory 2012