Rain

We didn’t go down to the beach

Because of the rain

We stayed in the van all day

With it drumming on the thin roof

I traced the drops with my finger

As they cried down the windows

And I lost at draughts to my Granma

Again and again (she took no prisoners)

Until I was crying like the rain.

‘He has to learn about losing’

She said to my mum

But it would have been good

To win

Just once

The sky cleared that night

So we squelched in wellies

Down to the smoky social club

And I had a bag of Smith’s Square Crisps

And a lemonade

And Granma screamed at the wrestlers

And smacked them with her handbag

And I shouted: ‘Mind your blood pressure, Granma!’

And everybody laughed

Next morning, it was raining again

And you could barely see the sea

So I got the Ludo out

How can you lose every game of Ludo?

That afternoon, braving the downpour

We trudged down to Pleasureland

My mum played the bandits

And Granma won at Bingo. A lot.

Her eyes twinkled

And she pushed her top set out at me

When no-one was looking

I couldn’t stop laughing

Outside it was still raining

So we had some sad chips

At the cafe with the

Tartan Formica tables

While we were waiting for the rain to stop

It didn’t

So eventually, we paddled back

To the caravan park

And my mum played her mum

At cribbage

Fifteen two

Fifteen four

A pair’s six

And one for his nob

Granma won

Next morning, it was still raining

So we decided to go home early

It was raining when we got home, too.