Postscript

30th September 2005, 1:00am
I was seven -

Mummy I said - one of the girls in my class

It’s her birthday - and this evening she’s having

a party - can I go -

I put on my favourite party dress - Mum

carefully wrapped up some cheap Turkish jewellery

In a piece of tissue paper - for my gift -

And up the road I went - outside school five

or six girls stood around - the girl

whose birthday it was arrived with her Dad

in the car - and as everybody went to get

In - the girl said to me - you can’t come -

and her father sternly followed by saying

I’m afraid you’re not invited - you don’t have an invitation -

I waited outside of school for as long as I

could - and after hiding the jewellery - I went home -

Mum - asked “did you enjoy the party” - yes I said

It was lovely -

That night - I laid in bed and cried - I cried

Myself to sleep - and in the morning I asked -

Mummy - what’s an invitation.