"Happy birthday too you!"
My friends called as we ran down the stairs.
Playing chase at a neighbour's house.
When we got to the bottom they started to sing.
They didn't know all the words:
Only five or six years old,
My sister, only three, was trying to sing too.
I was ten, I was ten today.
They stopped singing and we all ran off,
Playing hide and seek.
I hid behind the bathroom door.
Nobody came for ages;
I heard the door slam shut and my mother's voice.
I ran down to see her, grinning wildly.
But she wasn't grinning: she wasn't smiling.
In fact I think she'd been crying.
"Your Nan’s dead, she said softly.
She reached out to hug me but I shook her off.
Ran across the street and home.
Into my room and onto my bed.
I stayed there, crying, until mum knocked on my door.
"Do you want me to tell people the party's off?"
I shook my head.
Went down stairs and waited for them,
Dressed in my party dress.
Presents lying unopened from the morning.
Games were played, presents given, cake eaten.
"How does it feel to be ten?"
Someone asked.
"It's awful," I replied