Nineteen
In Paris. Aupèring. Three young boys to be minded. 
Cleaning, ironing. Her lacy pants melt and stick 
to the iron; don’t have to do it anymore. The physical 
contact is unexpected. Two huge arms engulf 
me, one hand on my mons, the other on my 
breast. Trapped. He laughs and leaves. At night, 
in the tiny apartment, he comes in, puts his hands 
under the covers, whispers nothing is going to happen, 
he only wants to get in, lie beside me. I whisper-hiss, 
non, non; think of his wife next door. Does she know? 
NON. We go to Normandy, to their holiday home. Bigger. 
Safer. Her, me and the boys. Not long till he’s back. 
A couple with him. I know I’m in trouble when his friend 
does the same thing the next day. Freeze to tiny-boned bird. 
Back in Paris dozens of messages, in English, on their answering 
machine. My father, telling me again and again that I failed 
my exams and must come home. He left me alone until I left. 
At the end they said I had the beginnings of a Parisian accent.
First published in The Rail, 13 February 2022.
_
Alison Hackett was born in Cork, Ireland, in 1961. She is the founder of the publishing house 21st Century Renaissance bringing to her work the belief that the right blend of design and writing can influence change and raise debate across a wide section of society. Her focus is on high quality print publications created and produced in Ireland when possible. A growing number of authors and illustrators are being published by 21CR.
 
                         
  
  
    
    
     
  
  
    
    
     
  
  
    
    
    