Frightened Teddy-bears

Frightened Teddy-bears

Blue lights flash through the windows
Into the kitchen of the saved-for house,
The children sit halfway down the stairs,
Clutching frightened teddy bears
As a young policewoman tries to coax them
Back upstairs to their bedrooms.
The kettle has been boiled up for cups of tea
The wife sits, nursing one on her knee,
Staring blankly at the wall.
The police inspector might as well not be there for all
The attention she gives to him
He is the bearer of bad news - insignificant next to the ruin
Of her life, her future, everything they shared.
Yesterday was safe; today she's scared
And tomorrow has ceased to matter.
There is a patter
Of small feet on stair carpet and
The door creaks open, revealing the children as they stand
There. Mummy's crying -
No point in lying,
She sets her tea down and becomes
At once the mother to her sons,
Gathering them to her, fighting the tears
Living through her deepest fears.
She says, not quite believing it herself,
'Daddy's not coming home - it's only us three now.'
As the police inspector makes a mental note
To put up more drink-driving posters.