LITTLE Poly in her excitement dangled from sleevepocketskirt without consideration for either outergarment or wearer.
- Get down dear!
Obediently Poly lowered her suspended feet onto the moving ground, moving, for she was now nearlyseven and knew better than when onlysix how to take instruction, particularly when administered by her precious own mother, which is why after all she had been allowed to accompany her into So Ho, to the Maison somethingorother, which she already knew was French for house, so that they could both collect the cake, mummy had ordered by telephone, for daddysbrother, heruncle.
And to any passerby how delightful a pair mother and daughter must have appeared.
Sweetheart Poly was dressed just as she wished to be on such an occasion wearing her favourite reddress with the pretty coloured feltflowered neck, pink being most cherished, the verysame dress that jealous Katie had pulled nastily at Milly’s sixth birthday party with the intention to tear, because spiteful Katie was under the impression that she was the prettiest and had burned hatefully whilst others had praised; her blue coat with matching scarf, gloves and butterflybonnet, named so because of its single adored, embroidered detail, which daddy had so thoughtfully bought from that bigshop on Regent Street, the same shop with the wonderful christmaswindows, windows which he insisted on calling nativityscenes, upsetting mummy terribly, knowing verywell, the sillyman, there was no babyjesus, star or king, certain in the knowledge it would suit, above all others, his darling Poly most; her best yellow woollen tights, best because unlike the others her toes had not yet escaped their warmcovering, and her brown buckled shoes which mummy had polished so concernedly that morning for mischievous Poly was clearly not yet too old for playinggames and had managed to scratch and scuff the leather in the most improbable of places.
Taking the outstretched hand, Poly ran and skipped alongside her fastmoving, hurrying mother as they swept past the pleading and the stricken.
- What is that smell mummy?
- Coffee dear.
Seventobe Poly doubted that the rising sweetsmell was coffee, it being very different to the smell that filled their kitchen when daddy was eating breakfast, nottomention from the hotblackliquid she had secretly once bitterly tasted, so that, just as when her crimsoning mother had hesitantly replied two to the question of three, causing no little confusion in tender Poly’s uncertain mind, for even then, aged fiveandhalf, she could confidently count some way beyond the two conflicting figures, she privately disputed her pure mother’s word.
She released herself from her guardian’s grip and dashed toward a lighted pigeon, clapping her gloved hands as best she could. The disturbed, bewildered bird flapped gracelessly upward so close to the oncoming Poly that a scream rose above her giggles.
- Poly! My hand!
Crestfallen Poly returned slowly to her mother’s side harbouring rebellious thoughts.
The precocious little imp was well aware that there may be greater dangers outside of her young understanding, which her mother naturally wanted to protect her from, but had she not stopped deliberately short of the road as she had been so repeatedly told to do and besides no car had been passing. She did wish sometimes her mother were less severe and that occasionally she could be trusted to behave, but she continued to love mummy eversomuch and daddy too for they were both sokind and loving and would never do anything to harm her and she would never want to replace them with anyone else’s parents like some of the ungrateful girls at school did.
A shrivelled greyhaired face, blackhat doffed, smiled benevolently down on the worshiped lamb and then courteously up to the mother.
- Bless you both!
Halted sensitive Poly peered through glass and saw the saddest thing she had ever seen and not knowing why she raised her hand and pointed before being dragged still gazing away.

EFRA, bowed forward, limbs crossed, watched intently as they passed, alone or in company, wearing unreadable, indifferent expressions.
Feeling increasingly excluded from life he wearily turned from the glass and raised the cup to his lips and drank.
What had she seen?
Splashes and pools of light flooded onto the table. He withdrew his hand.
Reflected his gaze met.
- Close your father’s eyes.
With rapid, repeated gestures a waiter wiped the counter and draped the damp cloth over his shoulder. Folding his sleeverolled arms he cast a sideways glance out through the open door.
A filthy, wandering messiah filled with divine frenzy rushed along the street crying inconsequential words against hardened walls.
Hearing, a second waiter joined the first and declaimed jovially:
- And he overthrew those cities.
- Let’s hope there are fifty righteous individuals, continued the first, smiling.
- What if there should lack five of the fifty righteous?
A cup slipped from his hand, fell.
- I thought I held it.
- It’s just a cup.
- It slipped through my fingers.
The pieces lay broken between them.