HAMPSTEAD INCIDENT

1 2 Y H A M P S T E A D I N C I D E N T S T E P H E N E D G A R The sort of heat in which we are cajoled To put the daily and unspoken pact Casually on hold. Memory still recites, Four decades on, that spell when the London sky Was tempted to retract Its pallid caul and shock itself with heights Of lazuli (The flaws of retrospect make this seem rare), A clear blue window framing one weekend. And crowds were out to share The sunstruck parks and streets Of Hampstead – us among them to advance The summertime and spend All of our daylight savings on the heat’s Extravagance. And through the midst of us two women strode – Two mothers? – flowing-haired and floating-skirted, Directly down the road, Before an Indian file Of naked children stepping with complete, Care-free, undisconcerted Abandon, looking round them all the while, On sandaled feet: All ages – young ones bringing up the rear; Both sexes – and, most striking, at the head A girl who would appear To verge upon pubescence. 1 3 R And when her glance met mine, did she profess The uninhibited Boldness of a child, or an adolescent’s New knowingness? She marched on proudly, almost smugly, daring Some challenge from the wry astonishment Of those who passed them staring, Or maybe to provoke Those who did not. And so, baring their stark And sunless skin, they went, To the fountain, no doubt, for a splash and soak Down in the park. We watched them part the morning to reveal A wish-fulfilling glimpse of Eden, or A page of the surreal, That tempted us away. Or would a barked instruction of ‘‘Take two!’’ Betray the conjuror? The crowd peeled back, and closed on them, and they Were lost to view. ...