Right, here we go! I pushed me way up O’Connell Street, hanging onto last night’s Evening Herald, held tight under me arm. Diving in and out of the Saturday shoppers, with everyone in a rush for the shops, hoping to get in and out before the crowds started pouring in. Only everyone had the same idea at the same time. Now we were all falling over each other.

‘Mind me legs wit tha bleedin case a yours!’

‘Sorry, missus,’ I said to the aul one with a dying-looking face on her, after she sent me flying with a push because I bumped her legs.

She stopped to look down at her nylons. ‘Looka! Yer after givin me a ladder in me new nylons,’ she snorted, looking down at the ladder snaking itself up her right leg. ‘The curse a Jaysus on yeh,’ she muttered, fixing the brown mohair hat on her head, and looking at me with two crossed eyes.

‘Well, pity about you and your nylons,’ I snorted. ‘It was an accident. You ran into me an that serves yeh right for pushing me,’ I said. Giving her a dirty look and rushing into the GPO to ring about the job working in an Italian fish-and-chip shop I just saw in last night’s paper. God, it was lucky I spotted that! It wasn’t in the domestic section. It goes to show you. I should never take anything for granted. You have to go through the whole paper with a fine-tooth comb. Oh, dear God, grant that I may get the job. If I do, then that means I won’t have to bother ringing Sister Eleanor and get the ear blasted offa me.

‘Allo!’

‘Yeah, hello. I’m ringing about the job you advertised, looking for a girl to work in the fish-and-chip café! Is the job still vacant?’

‘You wait a minute. I get the wife to talk wit you. She know about dis.’

‘Hellooo!’

‘Yes, I’m ringing about the job. Is it still vacant?’ I held me breath, squeezing the phone tight, waiting with me mouth open.

‘Yes, I look for someone. Ave you got the experience working in a café before?’

‘Yes, oh indeed I have. I’m very experienced!’

‘You sound young! How old are you?’

‘Me, no, I’m working for years. I’m sixteen.’

‘How long you working?’

‘Eh, three years. Straight after I left school.’

‘You leave the school at thirteen?’

‘Eh, yeah, well . . . I thought I was fourteen at the time.’

‘OK, I don’t care. I just want ta know you are not stupid. Can you count? You know how to work the cash register?’

‘Yes, I’m very quick.’

‘Do you have references? Where you work last?’

‘Eh, can I come down and see you? It would be easier if you could meet me face to face.’

‘OK, you can start today, I will give you a trial. If I don’t like you, you go out the door. No messing! The job is live-in with the family. You free to do that?’

‘Yes, that will suit me down to the ground,’ I said.

‘OK, see you around four o’clock. Goodbye.’

‘Bye!’ I roared as she hung up the phone. I got the job! Oh, my God! I have a job. And in a café! I just can’t believe me good luck.

I hopped off the bus in Hangman’s Wood, seeing the row of shops. Oh, there’s the supermarket where I used to rob me butter. Bloody hell! I spent one time sitting half the night in a police station after getting picked up with a load a butter in me bag. The shop called the police after I made out the door with them chasing after me. The two aul fellas ran like the hammers of hell after me, but they didn’t catch me. I ducked back later, and picked up the rest of me butter that I had hidden under the wheels of a car parked down a laneway. That’s when I got picked up by the coppers. Walking along in the dark evening with me bag full of butter. They spent the time driving around trying to spot me. They struck lucky. I spent the rest of the night haggling with a lovely-looking copper with snow-white curly hair being very nice to me. Because he was trying to get me to admit I’d robbed the lot. I wouldn’t give in, knowing they had no proof. Because most of the butter didn’t belong to the shop that got me arrested. In the end, I admitted to robbing the butter only from that shop. I ended up in court for that anyway. But I managed to hold onto the sixteen other pounds of butter. Yer man kept telling me he had children too. He only wanted to help me! I didn’t believe a word out of his mouth. He was a copper. They would sell their own mothers to make a case. But I liked him anyway! He was very nice to me.Yeah!

I gave a big sigh of contentment as I headed into the fish-and-chip shop with the café. Knowing that other life was all behind me, and here I was out on me own. Making me own way in the world, with no one to tell me what I can and can’t do. Life is definitely a bowl of cherries!

I stood in front of the counter, waiting while the Italian fella with the jet-black wavy hair, slicked back with half a bottle of Brylcreem emptied on his head, finished serving a customer. ‘Yes, what you want?’ he said, throwing his head back, looking at me with big brown chocolate-drop eyes, then smacking a load of chips into the shelf under the window for everyone to see what they were getting.

‘I’m looking for your mammy. She told me to start working here today.’

‘Who? The boss? She not my mamma! You stupid? Do I looka like her? My mamma, she a saint,’ he said mournfully. ‘She back in Calabria,’ he said, stabbing me with his eyes. Then whacking the hell out of the chips floating around in the boiling oil. Smacking the side of the metal handle of the spoon on the side of the fryer, trying to take lumps out of it.

Jaysus! I only asked him a civil question, I thought. Staring up at him, looking like he had the world on his shoulders. ‘OK! No need to be so touchy,’ I said quietly, wanting him to know I wasn’t trying to annoy him on purpose. ‘So, can you tell the boss I’m here? She’s expecting me.’

He let out an unmerciful roar in me ear. Shouting in Italian at someone inside a room. Then went back to humping his cooked chips inside the hot shelf under the window.

‘Sì?’ shouted a huge fat Italian mamma, coming to see what he wanted. She stood at the door into the back room, drying her hands on a dishcloth, listening to him sounding like he was giving out and throwing the head at me. I stood with me case in me hand and waited while she took me in from head to toe. Staring at me with an inquisitive look on her face. ‘You the one about the job?’

‘Yes, I rang you. I’m here now at four o’clock as you told me to be,’ I said, smiling happily at her.

‘Come on through,’ she said, flipping her hand at the touchy fella to lift the counter and let me in. ‘Come on, come in!’ she roared, waving her head at me, with the eyes never leaving me for a minute. Then she waddled off with me trailing in behind her, banging me suitcase against the touchy fella’s legs, with him standing there. Right in me way, gaping at me with his mouth open.

We headed into a sitting room that was a bit dark. I squinted around, trying to get me sight back after walking in from the bright lights in the shop. She pulled out a chair sitting under a big old table covered in a heavy wine tablecloth with tassels on the end, and a white linen lace cloth sat on top. ‘Sit down,’ she said, waving at me and heaving her huge heavy body into a chair that rocked and creaked. Then she steadied herself as she spread her arse, and lifted her big massive milkers, letting them drop and sink down onto the table. I watched as she leaned across with her tree-trunk arms to move a big red vase, stuffed with plastic roses covered in dust, so we could get a better look at each other across the table. I sat looking around at all the heavy old furniture. Two big armchairs sat, one each side of the fireplace, and two china dogs slobbered on the hearth. I looked around at the dark wine heavy flock wallpaper, with loads of pictures on the wall of the family. I suppose that’s who they are.

I stared up at the big one hanging over the fireplace, of a granny and granddad sitting up straight on two chairs. With sons and daughters standing behind them, and grandchildren resting their elbows on the grandparents’ laps. Everyone was looking very serious, like they didn’t trust the fella taking the photograph. They stood up straight, staring at the camera, looking very uncomfortable in their best clothes. With the men wearing hats, and suits that were too big for them. The women and girls wore black frocks, and had sulky looks on their faces. Much as to say to the fella taking the photograph, ‘I have to wear my best frock. I’m looking beautiful, but there is no one to admire me. No, I am cheated. I just stand here looking so good for this ugly little midget!’

The two little girls wore white frocks with white ribbons in their hair. They were tied up in a big bow that stood standing straight up on top of their heads. They looked like they wanted to smile, with the merriment dancing in their eyes, and their mouths ready to break out with all the laughing. But they didn’t. They held their faces fast on the camera, because someone would only shout, ‘Don’t smile! This is serious business! We don’t a want a make ourselves look like a the fools!’

They didn’t look very well-off to me. The suits hung off their skinny bodies, making them get completely lost. All you could see was a head, a few fingers sticking out of the sleeves, and the toe of the shoes. Because the trousers landed in rolls, burying their feet. That made me think they must have got the stuff from some rich people. Maybe rich relatives living in America, who were in the Mafia. Yeah, that could be it. I leaned me head over for a better look. Yeah, them suits certainly do look American all right. But most certainly, whoever owned them suits, they were better fed than this lot. The younger ones stood with their thumbs stuck in their breeches, trying to make themselves look manly.

‘So, how long you work in your last job?’ said the aul one, making me jump and turn me head to land back on her. I was forgetting for a minute what I was supposed to be here for. After letting meself get carried away, trying to make out the family in the photograph. I blinked, trying to take her in. The room was getting darker suddenly, with the heavy old curtains pulled tight across, not letting in any light. I wonder why she doesn’t bother to switch on the light. Maybe she’s sparing the electricity. Jackser used to do that. Saying we’d be cut off if we didn’t spare it.

‘Eh, nearly two years.’

‘You got references?’ she said, holding out her hand.

Oh, fuck! Here we go. I thought she said on the phone I had the job. Think fast. Don’t say you were fired. Suddenly, I heard meself saying, ‘Ah, yeah, Mrs, eh, Lipstop.’

‘Who?’

‘Yeah, she was a Jewish woman. A lovely person altogether,’ I said, shaking me head slowly, trying to think.

‘Jewish!’ she roared. ‘Wha kinda shop?’

Eh, oh, God! Me mind’s gone blank. Think, Martha! Fast! ‘They sold everything, missus! Coal, bananas . . . I mean fruit—’

‘Sì, sì, OK! But what about the references?’

‘Oh, yeah! I’m just getting to that. Well, you see, her husband died suddenly, and she sold the shop and took off with Mister O’Brien.’

‘Who ees dis mister? What you mean? They were no married?’ she said, waving her hands slowly in the air, looking shocked.

‘No,’ I whispered, looking even more shocked.

‘Sì! Continue,’ she said quietly. Waving her hands at me and shaking her massive chest, settling herself in for more comfort to hear this shocking scandal.

God, this better be good, Martha. ‘Yes, they were carrying on behind the poor husband’s back,’ I whispered, leaning meself across the table, giving a quick look around in case anyone was listening. Not wanting even the walls to hear the terrible goings-on. Then I paused, seeing her shocked face, and the eyes glittering with the excitement of hearing something shocking. She rattled her head up and down like mad, trying to get me to get on to the good bits. Then took a big swallow, pinning her eyes on me. Taking in every word I was saying.

‘The two of them!’ I puffed, drawing in me nostrils, and holding me breath with the shock of it all. ‘They would be pretending to count the takings at the end of the night. But the husband found them rolling around under the counter when the shop was locked up for the night. And the whole lot of us only sleeping overhead on the next floor up,’ I said, letting me voice and hand raise up to the ceiling. Looking up at it, with me face tortured, not able to take that part in.

‘Rolling around?’ she said, gripping her chest with her head leaning over to me with her eyes rolling around in her head. Looking like she was going into convulsions. Never having heard the like of such scandalous carryings on in her whole life.

‘Oh, yeah,’ I breathed. ‘You see, O’Brien was the handyman. And he was, eh, young and the husband was old. He had grey hair.’

‘But dis rolling around. Tell me about dis!’

‘Oh, yeah. That was shocking,’ I said, holding me hand to me chest. Still not the better of it. ‘The husband went down to the shop unexpectedly and let an unmerciful roar outa him. We heard the screams. Me and the other girl who worked in the shop. We lived upstairs, we were—’

‘Yes, yes! Go on. Dis rolling. I want to know about dis.’

‘Oh yeah! I am still not over the shock of that.’ I grabbed me hand to me chest again. Looking sick at the thought of it all coming back to me now. ‘Well,’ I said, slurping over me tongue. Enjoying meself no end, getting really carried away. ‘We ran down when we heard the shouts. And the poor husband, Mister Lipman—’

‘I thought you said it was Lipstop!’

I looked at her, confused for a minute.

‘Oh, yeah! Of course it was. I get them foreign names mixed up. Anyway, when me and, eh, Maggie flew in the door to the shop . . . well, I am still having nightmares over it, missus,’ I said, holding me head and closing me eyes. ‘The two of them . . . O’Brien and the missus . . . Lipstop . . . they were in their skin,’ I whispered.

‘No!’ the mamma roared in a whisper. Slamming her fist on the table. ‘You see all dis?’ she roared, looking at me then sweeping her head around the room, nodding at the walls with her arms waving in the air, muttering in Italian and blessing herself, looking up to heaven. Then folding her arms and dropping her head to me. ‘Sì, sì, sì,’ she muttered, dying for me to get on to the next bit.

‘Oh, yeah! The whole lot of us. Me an Maggie. And the world and his wife all heard about it, with the roarings outa the lot a them. Especially the husband. He was blue in the face with the shock of it, and went straight for the wife, grabbing her by the hair of the head. Then wrapped his hands around her neck, trying to strangle her. The handyman jumped in without a stitch a clothes on him! Oh my God! You should have seen what I seen!’ I roared. Dropping me head into me hands.

‘Sì, sì, sì! Keep telling!’ she roared. Nearly losing the mind with the excitement of it all.

‘Well, anyway, he jumped on the husband and tried to pull yer man offa her and the husband lost his mind altogether and picked up a bottle a milk sitting in a crate on the floor, with all the milk still in it,’ I gasped, ‘and landed it on yer man’s head. Splitting it wide open. Oh, it was killings! Murder! We wondered if we should call the police because it looked like someone was going to get kilt! Then—’ I stopped, pausing to get a breath. And think what might a happened next.

‘So? Go on, go on! What?’

‘Where was I?’ I said, running outa steam.

‘Tell me the rest! What happened then?’

‘Eh, oh, yeah! Then she picked up a bottle and smashed the husband over the head with it. Then we definitely had to call an ambulance and everyone got themself carted off to the hospital, with the ambulance roaring away with the bells ringing, and the whole lot a them still stark naked as the day they were born. Only except for the husband. He was grand. He was wearing his pyjamas. But the other two were starkers! And blood was pouring everywhere. So then we were left minding the shop. The two of us. Me and the other one.’

‘But the husband? You say he died! Did she kill him?’ said the mamma, looking confused, trying to work out the story.

‘Well, I don’t know about that. But he died in the hospital. So then I called me mother straight away, from the phone box in the shop, and she told me to get the hell outa there. It was no place for a good Catholic Irish girl like me who was well-reared and brought up with the fear of God in her at that pagan way of carrying on. That’s what me mother told me. So I rushed off and got the newspaper and here I am. Sitting here with you. Telling you the whole shocking story. I rang the mammy back to tell her I was now going to be working for an Italian family. She was delighted, missus. She said the good God is looking after me. Ending me up in a job with a good Christian God-fearing Italian family who would make sure I didn’t go astray! So now you see why I don’t have a reference, missus,’ I said, waving me empty hands at her.

‘Mamma mia!’ breathed the mamma, holding onto her chest and breathing out heavily, not the better of hearing that lovely bit a juicy scandal. ‘Sì! Say no more. I ave the picture. You be a good girl. Keep outa trouble.’ Then she came back to her senses, and sat staring at me, thinking. I sat trying to read whether she believed me or not.

Dear God, please let her give me the job. I’m sorry for telling lies. But I had to think up something quick. Or I had no chance at all. I sat quietly, waiting for her to make up her mind. Seeing her trying to read me and whether I was telling her a pack of lies. Then she snorted, giving me a dirty look, and huffed, shaking her head. Oh, oh! I could feel me heart sinking right down to the bottom of me belly. Here it comes. She’s not going to give me the job. I listened anyway, dropping me head. Resting meself with me arms folded, waiting for me arse to get lifted straight out the door. Pity. I always wanted to work in a fish-and-chip shop. Then I could eat as much as I like, and all for free.

‘OK, I give you one week on the trial. If you no work out, I let you go. Pssst! Out! We no mess here,’ she said, as me eyes followed her hands slapping against each other, seeing the picture of me being sent flying out the door. ‘You understand what I say?’

‘oh, indeed! Very well,’ I said, lifting me head and looking at her with a big smile on me face. Not believing me good fortune at landing the job. ‘Don’t worry about a thing, missus. I’m a very good worker. As missus, eh,’ – I was trying to remember – ‘the Jewish woman from me last job used to say, she couldn’t praise me enough. No, she couldn’t,’ I repeated meself, getting carried away with the excitement of getting the job and praising meself.

‘OK, the money is one pound and ten shillings a week. You work and eat and live with the family. You good worker, I treat you right! We all happy. I have one other Irish girl here already. She is a good girl. Gives me no trouble. She is like a daughter to me. You watch and do what she do. You can keep your job. Now, you and she work in the café. That is it. I have no more to say. You start work right away. Come, follow me. I can’t turn my back for one minute. Then they start the fighting.’ We could hear the roaring before we hit the shop.

We walked into the bright lights of the shop. All I could hear was the noise, as I squinted, trying to get me sight back from the dark room. Two Italian fellas serving behind the counter were having a screaming match. The touchy one was shouting at the other fella because he was scratching his privates and staring out at the young ones, shouting and belting each other standing outside the shop. They were hoping to draw the attention of the young fellas who were doing the same. Milling each other around the counter, hoping to get served. The Italian fella wasn’t taking a blind bit a notice of what was going on around him. The people were knee deep, all draped around the counter waiting to be served, and starving with the hunger. The gorgeous smell killing them as their eyes followed the lovely golden fish Touchy was humping around.

‘Eh, Francesco!’ he screamed in Italian, staggering with a load of steaming cooked golden-battered fish held in a big metal basket. He stopped, getting himself ready to aim. Then he hoisted the fish up, sending it flying to land under the hot shelf with the glass in front. ‘Francesco!’ he roared again, lifting his foot and giving Francesco an almighty kick right up the arse. Francesco leaped into the air with the fright and stared at Touchy while he rubbed the arse off himself, wondering what had happened to him. Then he lit into Touchy, giving him a smack across the head with the open palm of his hand. Touchy went mad and screamed into the face of Francesco, keeping his fists held tight down by his side and sticking his head into Dopey’s face. Jaysus! All hell is breaking loose, I thought, staring at the two of them and enjoying the excitement of it all.

‘Cut that out!’ roared a little aul fella waiting to be served. ‘Are yehs going to serve the paying customers or not? We want to get the grub and get the hell outa here. Youse can kill yerselves in your own time! I want me fucking fish and chips!’ he roared.

‘Yeah, we want chips! We want chips!’ shouted the young fellas from the back. Jaysus! This is a mad house, I thought, looking at all the people shaking their heads up and down in disgust. Hopping from one foot to the other, getting very impatient. The young fellas started getting very rowdy, with their shouting and roaring. Looking like they were getting ready to jump over the counter and help themself. Dopey just looked at the aul fella and the rest of the people, with a dozy look coming back on his face, and just stared at everyone shouting and roaring and going mad. He went back to hanging onto himself. Scratching, like he had a bad itch and couldn’t help himself, not even bothering to get moving.

Touchy lifted his voice, getting into an even worse rage. His face turned bright red as he stabbed at the metal bucket holding the raw white batter and the other bucket with the fish waiting to be dipped and battered. The aul one ran at Dopey, giving him an unmerciful shake, and dragged him by the shoulder, landing him over to the bucket, shouting and pointing at him to get on with the job. The touchy fella started cursing. It sounded like, ‘Fucking this and fucking that.’ ‘Fungolase’ or something. Then the aul one took off, satisfied the Francesco fella was now getting on with the job. But he was still looking a bit dopey to me.

I followed the mamma out through the counter and down the shop and into the café on the left side. There must be about twenty – well, maybe fifteen – tables I thought, trying to count them. Most of them were full. ‘Saturday night is busy, always busy at the weekend,’ the mamma said, watching the Irish girl rushing around, taking orders and clearing the tables as people left. ‘Here! Take this,’ she said, dipping into the pocket of her massive black-and-red-coloured flowery frock and handing me a little notebook with white sheets of paper, and the stub of a pencil. ‘Take the order from the customers and write it all down on this, and write the table number. It starts at this first table up here. That is number one. Work your way back, then it goes to the next row. We have twelve tables. Now don’t mix up the tables. Be sure you know what you are doing.’

‘OK!’ I said, getting all excited, dying to get cracking.

‘Serve these people here,’ she said, throwing her head at a couple waiting on the far side, staring over at us and watching the Irish girl serving.

I rushed over with me stub of pencil in one hand raised in the air, holding the notebook resting in the palm of me left hand. Hoping I looked like a waitress. ‘What will you have?’ I said. Slowly throwing me head from one side to the other, looking like the waitresses in Caffola’s in O’Connell Street. You always look up to them. Because they feed you when you’re dying for a bit of tasty grub.

‘I can’t make up me mind,’ said the young one with the beehive dyed black hair, back-combed and sprayed with a whole can of hair lacquer. That ended up looking like a bird’s nest sitting on top of her head. Anyway, that’s what it looks like to me.

‘What are you having?’ she said to the fella. Flapping her false eyelashes and staring at him. With her two eyes covered in black pencil going all around the eye in a circle, making her eyes disappear into a black hole. She was hoping he had enough money for fish and chips, but was afraid to ask him, in case he thought she was mean. That she was only after him for his money. I could tell that by the way she was a bit shy with him, and he was saying, ‘Go on, Joanie! Have what you like. I’m good for it. I’m flush this week. Go on, go on! I’m havin the big ray an a plate of chips,’ he said, turning to me. ‘Wit a pot a tea and give us a plate of bread an butter.’

‘Yeah, I’ll have the same,’ she said, looking contented now that she knew where she stood and he was loaded with the money.

‘Will we go on after this inta town an see a film or what?’ he said, holding her hand across the table and dropping his neck inside his leather jacket.Trying to catch the whole bottle of hair oil dripping down the back of his neck.

‘Yeah, that would be lovely,’ she said, squeezing his hands and getting all lovey-dovey. ‘There’s a great one on at the Savoy. But the only thing is, it’s all romance! An you mightn’t like that,’ she said, making her face look like she was going to burst into tears.

‘Course I would! Anything for you. We can sit at the back in the dark, and get our own bit a romance goin,’ he said, running his hand along the side of his greasy hair, and looking for somewhere to wipe it.

‘Oh, go on, you! Yeh mean yer after a bit a courtin?’

‘Now did I say tha?’

‘No, but me ma said I’m to watch out for fellas like you!’

‘Yeah? Do you want to hear wha my ma said?’ he laughed. Grabbing her around the neck and leaning over the table, whispering into her ear. I took off, listening to the pair of them scream their hearts out laughing after taking me time clearing the table next to them and earwigging like mad. It sounded lovely. Coming in here with a nice fella, then going off to the pictures. It made me feel a bit lonely. Then I flew up to the counter and gave me order to Touchy. Feeling meself lift again just as quickly. This place is great, with the bright lights and people coming and going. But most of all, the best part is that I’m all a part of it.

I staggered out of the café, heading for the shop, trying to balance a load of dirty dishes stacked too high on the tray. ‘oh, mother a God,’ I whined, watching them slip and slide. Jaysus! Ah! I took too many. I turned for the shop, then turned back again. Landing the tray on a couple’s table trying to eat their dinner. I wrestled with the tumbling dishes, grabbing out at the plates, seeing them skid across and ending up in the man’s lap. Some of the slops slid onto the man and woman’s dinner.

‘Hurry! I’ve been told to tell you your orders are ready,’ the

Irish girl puffed, rushing past me carrying two plates of fish and chips. Looking all red in the face from trying to keep up with the rush, as she swept past me. Her eyes rolled to heaven, taking in me staring at the man’s lap. While he jumped up, shaking off a load of beans stuck to his trousers!

Ah! Oh, I’m very sorry,’ I said, looking from the man to the woman with all the scraps from the dirty dishes sitting on top of their plates of dinner.

‘For the luv a Jaysus! Can yeh not mind what you’re doing?’ he roared, shaking his trousers and wriggling his hips, trying to get the beans to drop off. Then he looked down at the big stain right in the middle of his legs, and started cursing like mad.

‘I’ll clean it up,’ I said, trying to grab up the dishes and fix them properly on the table. Leaving him to clean himself up, taking the cloth off me.

‘Gimme that!’ he snarled, grabbing the wet dishcloth outa me hand.

‘Jaysus! The service is getting worse in this place,’ the woman moaned, throwing dirty looks at me and sweeping her eyes past her husband and landing them on the wall.

‘Miss! Where’s that fresh cod-and-chips we ordered, and a smoked cod-and-chips for her?’ shouted an aul fella from the middle of the room.

‘Yeah, coming. I’m just going to get it.’

I looked around, seeing people with empty tables in front of them, sitting patiently and looking hungry, staring over at me. The place was suddenly crowded. Bloody hell! How is this happening? Everything was going grand a minute ago, I thought, grabbing up the dishes and taking off to the crowded shop, with the man and woman screaming at me to come back and sort out the damage. I ignored them, shouting, ‘Excuse me. Let me past.’ I hiked the overflowing tray up onto the counter, letting a plate slip and smash to the floor.

‘Hurrah!’ shouted a gang of bleedin young fellas, delighted with the excitement of hearing something smashing and me making a fool out of meself.

‘Here, Rosa!’ shouted an Italian little aul fella with a brown weather-beaten face and little black beady eyes. He came out from behind the counter, wiping his hands on a long red-check apron, and waved me away. ‘Go! Take your orders. Serve the customers.’

‘Two large ray! Two chips! Tea, bread and butter!’ shouted Touchy, slamming the two plates on the counter. I grabbed them and flew back into the café, making straight for hair oil.

‘Jaysus, young one! Did yeh go back to Italy to catch the bleedin fish?’ he said, following the plate of grub sliding over to him.

‘Sorry about that! We’re rushed off our feet tonight,’ I said. Making it sound like I was here for years, instead of only a few minutes.

‘Where’s the tea?’ he squeaked, his mouth hanging open, looking at the table seeing he didn’t have everything.

‘Coming.’ I was off and grabbing up the tray with the pot of tea and bread and landing it back to hair-oil head. ‘Enjoy your fish,’ I said, smiling at the two of them. ‘It’s only just freshly battered!’

The girl paused her jaws that were slamming up and down, making short work of the fish and chips. She listened, then it hit her. Thinking I just said something funny. ‘Did yeh hear that? Yer woman’s just freshly battered the fish,’ she said, with her eyes staring at him and her cheeks bulging with the grub. ‘Looka! It’s battered.’ She pointed at his fish. There was a silence, while he stared at his fish. Then the pair of them burst out laughing.

She started choking and coughing so he leaned over the table, bashing her on the back, saying, ‘Yeah, it’s battered-lookin like herself!’ he roared, looking at the girl, and pointing at me, trying to be funny. Then he grabbed up the knife and fork and attacked the grub. Stuffing his face with the fish and chips and half a slice of bread and butter and a big mouthful of tea.

I put me hands on me hips and was about to light into him when he saw me face ready to go mad. ‘Ah, no, I’m only joking yeh! I didn’t mean you,’ he said. ‘I meant meself. The fish is battered-looking like meself.’

‘Ah, don’t be saying that to the poor girl and she doing yeh no harm,’ the girl said, looking disgusted.

I softened, and said, ‘No, you’re not battered-looking. Just a bit threadbare in the looks department. But I suppose you do have the kind of face only a mammy could love. But, then again, you must have something going for yeh. You got yourself a gorgeous-looking girlfriend.’

I saw her face turning red and yer man looking at her with his eyes starting to shine. ‘Yeah, yeah, you’re so right. She is an all. A lovely-looking bird,’ he said. Leaning happily across the table to grab her neck, landing his greasy hands on the back of her beehive hairdo. Giving her a quick greasy smacking kiss on the side of her mouth, missing her lips.

‘Get away, you,’ she said, her face going bright beetroot. But loving the moment that just came out of the blue.

‘Miss, where’s me bleeding smoked cod and fresh cod-and-chips we ordered two hours ago?’

‘Yeah, coming!’ I shouted, waving at him.

I went flying out the door, roaring up for me order at Touchy. ‘Sì! Where you go? Dis order is now one week old,’ he shouted, nearly spitting at me.

‘Yeah, sorry! I’m run off me feet,’ I panted, grabbing up the order and barrelling back in, carrying two hot plates. Then landing them down with the aul fella. ‘Smoked cod and fresh cod and two chips,’ I said, pushing the salt and vinegar in front of them.

‘Yes, and about bloody time, too. The hunger is nearly gone offa me,’ he moaned.

‘Yeah, I’m very sorry about that. The place is crowded tonight!’

‘Get us a pot of tea and bread and butter to go with this,’ he said.

‘Right!’ I was about to rush off and suddenly stopped. Remembering to write down what they are getting and put the table number in me book. ‘I won’t be a minute.’

I took off, then felt a man grabbing hold of the sleeve of me cardigan. ‘Excuse me, miss. We want something to eat.’

‘Right!’ I took out me notebook.

‘Hey, young one! Get us our pot of tea and bread and butter, before we fall down here from the hunger.’

‘Sorry! I’ll be back,’ I said. Rushing in to give the order to Touchy. People stood up at another table and I started counting the tables like mad to see if it was one of mine. I’m completely lost. I can’t remember who is who and what I’m owed. Or even what I’m doing any more. The Irish one does that side of the room. The left side when you come in from the shop. Halfway down the middle. I look after the rest. Right, they’re one of hers, I thought. Rushing to take the poor couple’s order. The man and woman are looking desperate for a bit of grub.

‘Are you serving us or not?’ he roared, losing the rag after trying to hold onto me by the cardigan a minute ago.

‘Sorry, sir!’ I puffed, waiting with me book gripped, and me pencil ready to fly, then dash and give in the order.

‘Goodbye, now. Thank you very much,’ I said. Taking the green pound note and giving the man his change. Happy now to say goodnight to the last of the customers. I watched as the man’s wife struggled to put on her good red coat and wrap the scarf around her head, letting it slide down the back of her neck, and pulling up the collar. She grabbed it around the front to hold onto it as she followed the man out the door. The two of them heading off, out into the cold dark night. Making their way home, after the big Saturday night out. I put the money in me apron pocket, along with the pound note, wrapped up tightly in the other notes, and slid the notebook in. Seeing the Irish girl stacking the chairs up on top of the tables, I started to do the same.

‘Sorry, we’re closed!’ shouted the aul fella out to more people looking in. Their mouths dropping down to their bellies at the thought of no grub.

‘It won’t take a minute. Just give us a quick bag of chips, and a fish!’ shouted a fella, looking back at the woman who was shaking her shoulders, looking around at the miserably dark night, with eveything closed up hours ago. Then she looked back in, seeing the lights going off in the shop.

‘Come on! Leave it. Let’s get going and make our way home,’ the woman said, sounding disgusted, and turned her back, digging her hands deep into her coat pockets, and lowered her neck down inside her coat. Then took off, heading away from the shops, making her own way home along the dark road.

‘No, wait. Wait! Fuck yeh,’ he shouted after her, waving his arm in the air. Then gave up and dug his hands into his trouser pockets and lowered his head, bending his back. Studying what was happening in the shop. He hung on for a minute. His mouth hanging open like he had too much to drink, and his eyes kept crossing. Then he gave up and staggered after the woman. Stopping to get the right foot going first, after taking a little dance to keep his balance, then he steadied himself, and he was off. Moving in a stagger, hurrying to catch up with the woman.

I followed the Irish girl up to the counter and handed in the last two customers’ money along with the notebook. The little aul fella took it off me and checked the two receipts against the money I gave him. Then slammed open the cash register, taking out all the money to count it.

‘You want fish-and-chips?’ Touchy said to me, getting ready to grab up a plate.

‘Yeah, give us, eh . . .’ I was trying to think what I would like. ‘Give us a fresh cod. A nice big one!’

‘They are all big,’ he moaned.

‘And plenty of chips. Where do I get the pot of tea from? I want bread and butter, too.’

‘OK, OK! You wait. I only have a the one pair a the hands,’ he snorted. Letting his face lengthen with disgust.

‘I’ll have the same,’ whispered the Irish girl. ‘Here, I’ll make us the tea,’ she said, looking at me like someone had put the fear of God into her.

‘Eh, Alfonso!’ shouted Francesco, waking himself up at the thought all the day’s work is over. He screamed something in Italian, then rushed back into the family’s kitchen.

‘Andeamo!’ or something like that, the big fat mamma shouted out. Holding up a big metal basket with steaming spaghetti hanging out through the holes.

‘SÌ! MOMENTO!’ blasted Touchy right into me earhole.

‘Fuck! Do they ever just speak to each other like normal people?’ I muttered. Jumping out of the way, and taking the two plates of fish-and-chips he slammed down on the counter for me and the other girl.

‘Come on! Do you want to eat in the café? I don’t want to eat in with them. There’s too many of them crowded in there,’ she said. Rushing off to the café and putting the tray down on the table with the chairs underneath that she’d left free for us.

‘We have no salt and vinegar,’ I said, seeing all the stuff was gone inside to be filled by us tomorrow. I rushed in behind the counter, grabbing a bottle with vinegar left in it and a little bottle of salt. Then made to run back and decided to put me head into the family kitchen to get a look. They were all sitting on top of each other at a long table squashed into an alcove.

‘Eh, eh, BASTA!’ Touchy was shouting, slapping the hand of another fella I hadn’t really noticed before. I think he was the one in the rubber apron peeling all the potatoes, and bringing in the buckets of batter and fish. They keep him in the back. Rubber-apron man roared because he couldn’t get his hands on the big metal bowl with some sort of sauce and meat in it. Touchy was taking half the bowl for himself. The rest were helping themself to baskets of bread, and plates of tomatoes and cheese, and pouring wine out of a long glass jug.

‘Papa!’ shouted a big fat young one, about two or three years younger then meself. He took no notice of her, shaking the hell out of his arm. He was too busy shouting at a huge dopey woman helping the mamma to serve the lot of them. Jaysus! No way am I showing me nose in there, I thought. Shutting me gaping mouth and taking off for the café.

‘It’s like a mad house in there!’ I said. Sitting meself down and cutting half the fish, trying to stuff it into me mouth.

‘Yeah, there’s an awful lot of them,’ she said, staring at her grub and taking little mouthfuls.

‘What’s your name? Mine’s Martha.’

‘I know. I heard Alfonso call you Santa Martha.’

‘You mean Touchy?’

‘Who’s he?’

‘Oh, I call him that because you can’t say anything to him. He’s never happy-looking.’

‘Yeah, he hates Ireland,’ she said. Taking a little nibble of the bread. ‘How long are you working here?’

‘What did you say your name was?’

‘Mary. I’m working here eight months.’

‘Where are you from, Mary?’

‘Sligo.’

‘That’s miles from Dublin, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah,’ she said, looking at her plate and pushing it away.

‘What’s wrong with you? Why don’t you eat your dinner?’

‘I’m sick of the sight of fish and chips. I’d love a chop or something. I prefer Irish food. They only cook Italian stuff here. I wouldn’t eat that.’

‘No, me neither,’ I said. ‘I don’t like the look of that spaghetti stuff. How old are you, Mary?’

‘Twenty-three.’

‘How long are you in Dublin?’

‘Since I started working here. I saw the job advertised in a Dublin paper when I came up for the day to have a look around. I was working in a local hardware shop at home. Selling farm stuff to the local farmers.’

‘Do you like working here, Mary?’

‘Not really, it was good in the beginning. But now I want a change. I’m thinking of heading off to London. Me sister’s over there working in a live-in job. It’s a pub in Camden Town.’

‘Oh, I might think of doing something like that,’ I said, getting all excited at the idea of moving on. ‘But I don’t think I would like the idea of being around drunks all day. I’d be afraid I might get a liking for the stuff. No, I want to keep meself away from that kind of thing. There’s no point in taking chances.’

‘Well, we better get upstairs to bed,’ she said. Taking up her plate and loading up the tray.

‘Right, I’m just finished.’ I finished the last of the bread, including hers, and drained the last drop of tea, and stacked the cups and saucers and plates on the tray. Letting her take off with it. ‘Wait! I think I’ll just sit here and have a cigarette first.’ I’d forgot all about me smokes, even though customers were sitting here, puffing their hearts away.

‘OK, I’ll wait with you,’ she said. ‘Just let me drop these things off for Angelo, or Rosa. One of them can do the washing up,’ she said, sounding tired. ‘Oh, God! What a night. We were rushed off our feet. I’m just about ready for my bed,’ she said, letting herself drop down into the chair, and rubbing her face with her two hands, then looking over at me and yawning.

She’s very thin and pasty-faced, I thought, looking at her. Her mousey fair hair would be lovely if she put it up or something. It’s too thin to be left hanging down around her shoulders. Gawd! She really is very quiet. She never says a word to anyone. Just keeps moving in and out of the tables, cleaning them and taking the orders and going quietly about her business. No one notices her with her shoulders humped and her eyes half-dead in her head, like she’s got the weight of the world on her shoulders, and she wouldn’t even care if she just dropped down dead, and that was the end of her.

‘How many have you in your family, Mary?’ I asked, seeing her mouth tighten, at the mention of her family.

‘Nine. I’m the second-eldest,’ she said, sounding like she didn’t want to talk about them. I said nothing. Not wanting to ask her about her business. ‘Me mother is dead!’ she said after a while. Knowing I was not wanting to upset her.

‘Oh, that’s terrible! You must be lost without her.’

She shook her head, closing her eyes like she was trying to say, ‘I’m used to it.’ ‘Yeah, she’s dead these four years. I don’t feel good about running off and leaving me younger sister to look after the lot of them.’

‘What age is she, Mary?’

‘Nineteen. Then the next one is fifteen. There were more in between us. But poor Mammy lost two after me when they were young. Teresa was only seven. Just coming up to Holy Communion. And Joseph who was five. Then we lost three more. They died when they were all little. The youngest is four now. He’s me little brother, Alan.’

‘But did you say your mammy died four years ago, Mary?’ I whispered.

‘Yeah, that’s right. She had him at home and bled to death. By the time they got the ambulance and took her to hospital, she was gone. She was only forty-four. I blame me father,’ she said. Letting the anger work its way up. She didn’t raise her voice. Just said it, letting the last few words rise up, leaving the mention of her father hanging in the air. I shook me head, feeling the terrible loss she must carry around. Seeing her face turning to stone. Yet her eyes were half-dead from the pain of it all.

‘I send them home a postal order for fifteen shillings a week. To my sister. I don’t want that git of a father to get his hands on it, and drink it down his gullet. That’s why I want to go to London. There’s more money to be made over there. But I wanted to hang around in Dublin for a while. To keep an eye on the family. I send them a letter every week, asking them to let me know how things are going at home. The sister writes back. She wants to leave home, too. But she can’t do that until Maeve gets a bit older. She’s working now in my old job, in the hardware shop. The next one is just turned fourteen. She’s started working for a local farmer. Helping the wife around the house and farm. So things are moving on. Getting a little easier on everyone. But the father has to be watched. He beats the hell out of the younger one, Maeve. Trying to get the wages off a her before she hands it up to Bernie. Bernie knocks the shite out a him. She’s not afraid of him. Not like me poor mammy! She was too soft altogether. That’s why she went to an early grave.’

‘Yeah, she’s right an all, Mary. I would split a man’s head open if he lifted a hand to me.’

‘Too bloody true!’ Mary said, a spark of viciousness coming into her eyes at the mention of being hit by a man. ‘You remind me of me sister Bernie,’ she laughed, her eyes lighting up at the mention of her sister, making her face pretty. ‘You’re full a life, just like her. But you’re younger. How old are you, Martha?’

‘Sixteen,’ I said, smiling at her.

‘You’re a Dublin girl,’ she said, looking straight at me and thinking about this.

‘Yeah,’ I said.

‘So . . . are you just out of a convent? Do you mind me asking?’

‘No, no, you’re right. I am,’ I said, wanting to leave it at that. Not wanting to look back, and give much away.

‘Them places can be fierce tough! I heard terrible stories about them.’

‘Ah, no,’ I said, thinking about it. ‘I wasn’t in the worst place. There are worse things that can happen to you,’ I said. Thinking about the ma and the aul bastard, the Jackser fella. ‘But I’m glad to be gone from it. They can be very lonely places at times,’ I said. Remembering the cold empty passages, and rooms with nothing but young ones, tearing lumps out of each other. Everyone wanting to be noticed by the nuns. ‘Oh, well! That’s life,’ I said. Wanting to turn away from all the bad times and be happy now.

‘Turn outa da lights in there!’ shouted the aul fella, roaring in at us from the counter.

‘Come on, let’s go up and hit the sack,’ Mary said, standing up, waiting for me to put out the cigarette in the ashtray. I followed her out the door, seeing her switch off the light, and around the counter, heading out through a door into a little passage and up bare wooden stairs.

‘I haven’t seen where I’m sleeping, Mary! What about me case? I left that in the sitting room.’

‘Come on! We’re all in here together,’ she said. Opening a door on a landing, hearing roars and banging and laughing coming from the room next door. ‘We’re in here,’ she said, walking into a bedroom with two beds. One a double and a single pushed against the wall. The floorboards were bare, and a big old wardrobe sat against the far wall, at the end of the room just inside the door. I spotted my suitcase sitting behind it in the corner.

‘There’s only two beds!’ I said, seeing the huge woman Rosa and the fat daughter heaving into the room after us, puffing and arguing. ‘Are the four of us sleeping in two beds?’ I shouted, not believing me eyes.

‘Yes! You and me are in the single bed, and Rosa and Maria are in the big one,’ the daughter said, pointing us to the single bed. We all looked at Rosa, peeling the big wide tent of a frock over her head, and heave herself into the double bed, wearing only big pink knickers and a long woolly vest, with a bunch of miraculous medals and purple scapulars swinging around her neck. I watched the mattress and the springs sink onto the floor.

I looked at the single bed as Mary started stripping, taking her nightdress out from under a pillow and pulling it over her head. The young one dived into her nightdress and sank herself into the single bed, moving into the wall, trying to make room for me.

‘Fuck this! Not on yer nelly!’ I roared, wanting me night’s sleep. Raging at the thought I wasn’t getting a bed to meself.

Mary had drawn her knees up and was hanging out of the edge of the bed when Rosa swung herself around, lying flat on her back, breathing ‘Bene!’ with a big sigh of contentment.

‘Come on, out! What’s your name?’ I said, pointing at the young one and pulling the blankets down.

‘Maria.’

‘Right, Maria. You sleep with Rosa and, Mary, will you sleep in the single bed with me? We’re a pair of skinnies. Leave the fatties with the big bed. Maria here is taking up the whole single bed to herself. Look at the size of her!’ I was raging. The bleedin cheek of them Italians!

‘Yeah, OK,’ Mary said, swinging her legs out of the bed while I dragged Maria out of the single one.

‘Go on! You’ll be more comfortable sleeping in the big bed with Rosa.’ She dived in happily beside Rosa, who grabbed her, laughing. The two of them snuggled up happily, laughing and tittering. Delighted with themselves at getting each other and the big bed. Mary and me squeezed into the single bed, and found our own space.

We had stopped coughing and shifting ourselves for more comfort, and were just dozing off when the fuckers next door started going mad. We listened as the gang of fellas chased and thumped each other. Throwing stuff and dragging the beds around, using them as a barricade to stop themselves getting caught. We listened, hoping it would stop. Then they got rowdier. The slaps and thumps were louder, and the screams of pain sounded like someone was being killed.

‘Jaysus! Why does someone not go in and tell them to quieten down?’ I huffed. Shouting at the wall, hoping they would hear me next door. ‘It must be three o’clock in the morning,’ I moaned, with nobody taking any notice of me.

A lone bird woke up, and started squawking like mad, screaming at his pals to wake up. I lifted one heavy eyelid, seeing the night getting pushed out by the grey dawn of a new day. ‘Ah, Jaysus! Mammy! I’m banjacked. I’ll never get up in the morning,’ I croaked, feeling meself sinking down into a deep coma.

‘Right, Mary, I’m off. Are you sure you won’t change your mind and come with me for a ramble into town?’

‘No! Sure everything will be all shut up. It’s Sunday,’ she said, standing there in her work clothes, looking all washed out.

‘Ah, Mary! You should try getting out some time. This place would drive you mad, hanging around with them mad Italians day and night.’

‘No,’ she said, running her hands over her face then slamming them down by her side, making her eyes all red and her face even whiter. ‘You go on and enjoy yourself. You look smashing.’

‘Ah, thanks,’ I said, looking down at me lovely clean frock. And the smell of the washing powder off me lovely trench coat. It came out lovely when I washed it and hung it out to dry on the line in the back garden. I even got Rosa to iron it for me. She’s very good.

‘Do yeh like the shine on me patent shoes? I clean them in Pond’s Cold Cream! Don’t they come up lovely?’ I said, sticking out me foot for us to get a good look.

‘Yeah, but I thought that was supposed to be for your face,’ she laughed.

‘Yeah, but people always look down at your shoes after they’ve seen your face,’ I said. ‘That’s how they know if you have any taste or not.’

‘Hmm, I hadn’t thought about that,’ she said. Shaking her head thinking about it.

‘Right, I’m off.’

‘Don’t forget you’re back at work at five o’clock this evening.’

‘Yeah, I’ve plenty of time. I’m just taking the bus into town, get a look in the shop windows. I might have a cup of coffee in Caffola’s. I love that place! Then back in time for work.’

‘OK, go on then or you’ll never get going.’

‘Right, bye!’ I flew out the door smack into Francesco, with Alfonso trailing behind him.

‘Eh, eh, looka this! The little Santa Marta is ready for the town,’ he roared, swinging his arms in the air and looking around at Touchy.

‘Where you goin?’ Touchy said. Looking me up and down, all dressed up himself. ‘You want to come for a drive in my sports car?’ he said. Flying ahead of me down the stairs in his black tight trousers with the little flare-outs at the end. Wearing black patent lace-up shoes, and a leather jacket with the collar pulled up. I got the whiff of aftershave lotion as he breezed past me.

‘Eh, Alfonso, I come too! We all go, eh? Why no?’

‘Fungolase!’ shouted Touchy, roaring in Italian at Francesco tearing down the stairs after him. I think ‘fungolase’, or whatever it is, must mean fuck off. ‘You want to come?’ he shouted at me, holding his hand out in the air, waving his car keys.

‘No, I don’t trust youse Italian fellas. You’re all too fast for my liking.’

‘Sì!’ shouted Francesco to me. ‘He eat girls for breakfast. He very fast.’

‘No me! I ham . . . how you say?’ he said, kissing his fingers to his lips, giving them a smack. ‘I ham beautiful,’ he said, lowering himself to the ground. Half-sitting on his hunkers. ‘Come with me. I show you the town.’

‘Nah,’ I said, wanting to go me own way.

We all ended up outside the family kitchen. With the mamma shouting at Maria. Trying to tear her out of a short miniskirt. ‘Papa!’ screamed Maria, roaring for help and hanging onto the skirt for all she was worth. While the mamma tried to drag it off her, screaming and yanking, and blessing herself. Then she let go, burying her face in her hands. Moaning and trying to cry. She sniffed, giving a big sob, taking in huge sighs, sounding like her heart was broken. Her eyes rolled from the state of Maria in the miniskirt down to the lovely white frock she wouldn’t wear.

‘Gesù Cristo!’ she implored. Whispering up at the ceiling and crumpling the frock in her hand, wiping her face and blowing her nose in it. Then she slapped her chest, grabbing onto it, and started roaring at Maria again. ‘MAMMA MIA! My Bambina! She look like a . . . not a my bambina!’ she puffed, running out of words. This time I really could see a tear as she lifted her head, looking like one a them tortured saints with the eyes rolling in the back of her head. She lifted her eyes to heaven, holding up handfuls of the frock, beseeching and moaning. ‘Santa Maria! Give me patience! Give me back my baby! I beg you!’ she implored, tearing lumps outa the frock with heartbreak and frustration.

Then the aul fella lost his patience. ‘Basta!’ shouted the papa. Trying to squeeze himself past the two of them, and escape out the door. The mamma thumped him on the arm and screamed at him in Italian. Pushing the frock at him, holding it out in a ball. Then pointed at what Maria was wearing. A short skirt up to her arse. Showing off her big fat legs, and a tight skinny top that showed nothing but her fat belly. The mamma sounded like she was crying and raging at the same time.

He stopped and looked back at Maria, studying her, trying to take her in. Then he gave up and slapped his forehead, giving it a good smack with the open palm of his hand, and looked at the ground, saying nothing. The mamma ran out of words and stared at him with her mouth open, pointing her hand at the cut of Maria. Then slowly swung her head down, looking mournfully at the white frilly frock crumpled in her hand, and started wiping her nose with it again.

‘Jaysus! There’s murder going on!’ I muttered. Staring at the lot of them. ‘Where did you get the get-up from, Maria?’ I asked.

‘My friend at school bought it for me in the new Rave Boutique in Clerys. I saved my pocket money,’ she said, wiping her snots with the back of her hand. ‘Do you like it? Mamma wants me to wear that childish thing,’ she said, pointing at the white frilly communion-looking frock in the ma’s hand.

‘Eh . . .’ I tried to think, looking at how short her skirt was, nearly showing up to her knickers. ‘Eh, do you like it?’

‘Yeah, I look really groovy,’ she said happily, looking down at herself, not seeing what I’m seeing.

‘Ciao!’ shouted Touchy. ‘Come on! We go in my sports car,’ he said, yanking me behind him. ‘You will ave the experience of your life,’ he promised, blowing kisses with his hands. The mamma stared at me, then whipped her head at him, thinking there’s more misfortune coming her way.

‘No, you have to be a good girl if you want to marry a nice Italian boy!’ she shouted, waving her finger at me. Looking shocked at the idea of him wanting to take me for a drive.

‘I not asking to marry her!’ shouted Alfonso. Looking at me with his mouth curling. ‘I marry nice Italian girl when my mamma find one for me!’ he shouted. Laughing and throwing his head back at the mamma. I looked at him, wondering if he was simple, or just joking. His mammy’s looking for a wife for him? Nah, nobody’s that stupid.

‘Hey, come on!’ shouted Alfonso, waving his car keys at me from the door. ‘We will be back in time for work. Ciao!’ he shouted, waving at them all gaping after us.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘We can go out and do something nice,’ thinking the mamma was making me mind up for me. The cheek a her, telling me I can’t go out with an Italian fella. ‘Right, I’m coming,’ I said, heading after him out the door.

‘He wants to kiss you!’ shouted Maria, getting a slap in the gob from the mamma.

‘Don’t worry! Nobody’s getting near me,’ I said. Watching him screech up to the door in a little red car. It doesn’t look like a sports car to me, I thought, staring at the colour of it. Red! Red

for danger! Better watch meself with this fella.

I felt nervous getting into the car. This is me first time ever out with a fella. He revved the hell out of the engine, and before I could get the door shut he was off. Sending me flying back in me seat. ‘Take it easy!’

‘This car was made in Italy,’ he said, stroking back his greasy hair. ‘We likea the speed!’

‘I don’t,’ I said, seeing all the other cars getting left behind us.

‘This es nothin!’ he said, staring straight ahead at the road flying up to meet us. Then he slammed down the gears, the engine roared like an animal in terrible pain, and we flew. Me eyes rolled in the back of me head, and I grabbed the seat, holding on with me fists, and me feet shot up in the air. I tried to look out, seeing only a blur of houses flashing by me, and me life going with it.

‘Slow down! We’re going to be killed stone dead,’ I whined. Terrified to open me eyes in case it happened.

‘This is good, eh, my little poodle?’ he said, flicking his eyes over to me.

‘Ahhhh! Look at the road! Don’t be minding me! Stop the fucking car! Let me out!’

‘Relax! I ham goin to show you the good life,’ he purred, sounding like a kitten.

‘Where we goin?’ I screamed in a whisper. ‘Dear God, don’t lemme die. I’ll never have anything to do ever again with another Italian fella. I promise, God. Just let me live in one piece!’ I prayed like mad. Keeping me eyes shut.

I heard the blast of a horn, and opened me eyes just in time to see me last hour on earth. ‘Ahhhh!’ A car was heading straight towards us. ‘We’re in the middle of the bleedin road,’ I moaned, terrified to scream. I could see the whites of drivers’ eyes as we flew past. Trying to get in front of them, as the car coming straight towards us blared his horn. ‘WE’RE DEAD!’ I jammed me face in me hands. Waiting for the crash. Ohh, I never made it past sixteen! I felt the car whip around, and me stomach lurched, with me eyes clamped shut, and me body froze solid. Waiting for the terrible bang.

‘Ha, ha! Irish drivers are like old women!’ he roared, enjoying himself no end. I opened me eyes, seeing we were leaving everything behind us. All I could see now was a long narrow road with bogs flashing past, and sheep nosing around with their heads buried in the grass, taking life easy. Fuck! Now we’re in the middle of nowhere!

‘Where are we now?’

‘In the mountains, cara mia,’ he moaned. Trying to sound like a big film star. Then he suddenly braked, switched off the engine and pulled on the handbrake. ‘Now we ave no one to disturb us,’ he said. Looking at me for a split second before flinging himself on top of me, and grabbing something at the side of my seat. The pair of us went flying back, with him plastered on top of me.

‘Help!’ I couldn’t get me breath with the shock.

‘Oh, you are so beautiful, so fresh, so . . . Hmm, you smell lovely,’ he moaned. Trying to eat me neck.

‘Fuck off! Geroffa me!’ I roared. Trying to peel meself from under him. ‘I can’t breathe!’

‘No, it is the same for me,’ he muttered, eating his way up around me face.

‘Stop! Wait!’ I shouted.

‘What? What is wrong?’ he said, lifting his head and looking at me, letting his hands stay on me hips.

‘I don’t want this!’

‘Why? I ham great lover.’

‘No, I don’t care.’

‘Yes, you will love me.’ He grabbed me again. Spreading himself all over me like a rash. ‘Give me a kiss,’ he mumbled, trying to get his greasy mouth on me lips, licking the face off me.

‘Are you going to stop or not?’ I shouted from under him, managing to get me head up sideways for air.

‘Ooh, you are too beautiful,’ he moaned, grabbing his hand under me skirt, trying to work his way up to me knickers.

I grabbed his hand, clamping down on it, and said, making me voice go quiet, ‘Alfonso, let me up for a minute.’

‘No, we ave not much time to waste. You lie back an enjoy. This is good.’ Then he was grabbing me chest.

Right! Fuck this! I could feel a rage flying up through me. ‘Alfonso,’ I said quietly.

‘What?’ he said, lifting his head to look at me.

‘So, you won’t stop even though I want you to?’

‘Stop? We aven’t even started!’ he roared. Burying his head in me neck, snorting his way around to me lips again.

‘Fuck! I’ve had enough of this,’ I snorted to meself. ‘Wait! Let me get me shoes off,’ I puffed, trying to get me head up again for air.

‘Why?’ He leaped up, lifting his head up to stare at me in annoyance. He’s not going to stop, I thought. Seeing the black eyes turn red, to match his beetroot face from all the excitement he was working himself up to. ‘OK! You want to take your clothes off?’ he said, leaping up from me and slamming himself down on his own seat and ripping off his leather jacket.

‘I need air,’ I said, opening the door, readying to spring meself out. Seeing him in the same instant reach across to shut it.

‘No, you don’t,’ he muttered, sounding annoyed.

‘Look, Alfonso.’ He looked at me for a split second, seeing my hand come at him with two fingers pointed like arrows, sailing through the air, straight for his eyes.

‘Ahhhh!’ he screamed, grabbing his face, holding his eyes and twisting his head, trying to see and stop the pain. I could still feel his eyeballs shaking like jelly in me fingers. He lashed out, sending me a cracking smack on the side of me head, letting me see stars. I brought up me fist and smacked him under the chin, hearing the crunch of his jaw and the snap of his teeth.

‘AHHHH!’ he roared, cursing in Italian. Then he shot out of the car. Moaning and whining, reeling around, not knowing what hit him. I leaped out, screaming. The rage tearing itself around me body, wanting to kill him.

‘You bastard! You think you can treat me like dirt! Why? Because I am only a girl and you are a man? You think because you are stronger than me it gives you the right to think you can piss on me if you want?’

He lifted his head, looking at me. I could see blood dribbling down his chin. He spat out a tooth, hanging out of his mouth on a string of blood. ‘I will kill you!’ he screamed, punching his fist at me and wiping his mouth. ‘You will be buried in these mountains! You are loco!’ he roared, stabbing his head with his finger.

‘FUCK YOU, greasy Italian bastard! I will beat the shite outa yeh, if you lay another hand on me. Stupid skinny little runt had the cheek to think you could get the better of me!’

‘I kill you,’ he warned, waving his arm at me and looking at the blood on his hand. Trying to check how many teeth got knocked out.

‘THAT’S IT!’ I screamed, jumping up and down, with the rage nearly suffocating me. Seeing he still hadn’t got the message that he was not going to best me. I whipped me head all around, looking for something to hurt him. Then me eyes lit on his car. I dived over and jumped in, wrestling off the hand brake, then leaped out and gave it a push. It started to roll, picking up speed, weaving its way towards the edge. Alfonso was still poking at his mouth, trying to find more loose teeth.

ALFONSO! THE CAR’S GONE WALKIES!’ I shouted.

He whirled his head in my direction, just in time to see the car skating past him. It took him a split second to take it in. ‘MAMMA MIA!’ he screamed, sounding like he was just being tortured. He took off so fast he couldn’t get moving. His leather shoes skidded on the stony road, then he lifted his legs and took off. Flying like the hammers of hell. Skidding along the side of the car, trying to stop it then throwing himself in front. Slipping and sliding, holding it back from toppling down into the field.

Fuck! If he falls down over the edge, the car will land on top of him and he’ll be killed. I raced down and dived in, grabbing a hold of the handbrake and tore it up with me two hands, feeling the car steady, and stopped it from going over the edge. Then everything suddenly went quiet. I rested meself on the steering wheel, hearing the sound of me heavy breathing, and feeling me heart flying like mad in me chest.

‘Oh, my God!’ I muttered, looking slowly around, seeing the desolation of the emptiness all around me. The white frost sitting on the empty bogs with the sheep now scattered in the distance and the sound of their bleating coming from far away. Then I landed me head on Alfonso. Seeing the whites of his eyes match the colour of his face. He was afraid to let go.

‘I ham in trouble,’ he moaned. His whole body shaking with the fright and his eyes locked on mine, then letting them peel slowly down the side of him. Still not trusting to let the car go. ‘How do I get out of this?’ he whispered, looking up at me. ‘I need a push.’

‘Right, we can wait for someone to come along and give us a push,’ I said, slamming the door shut, feeling it rock and him slam himself against it, getting an awful fright. Then settling meself back, sitting for more comfort in the driver seat, and looking down through the window at him.

‘We? Us? No, you can walk,’ he snarled, with the rage whipping him up again. Forgetting himself still gripped tight under the car. ‘I ham avin nothin more to do with loco Irish!’

‘Fuck you! Then get yourself out of this!’ I screamed, looking again to see what else I could do to him. I grabbed at the keys in the ignition, wriggling them like mad to get them out. Then leaped from the car, shouting. ‘Hey, do you need these?’ I said, swinging them in the air.

‘No, no, I swear on my mamma’s grave. I kill you, if you don’t give my keys.’ His face was now green.

‘Right, here you are,’ I said, throwing back me hand, sending the keys flying through the air, landing them somewhere next to the nosy sheep making their way over, looking up to see what all the fuss was about. Oh, the sheep are back! They had taken off, running for their lives when all the shouting started again.

He whirled his head, trying to spot the keys landing. Then dived at me, then changed his mind, taking off instead. Galloping after the spot where he thinks the keys landed. Screaming like a banshee he would kill me. Well, it sounds like that to me, because he’s roaring in Italian.

I watched him throwing himself on his knees, tearing like mad at the weeds, trying to find the keys. So, the little skinny runt! He thought I was going to be an easy mark. Well, that’s the end of him and me! I better tell the mamma not to start preparing the wedding. It looks like we won’t be getting married after all. Fucking mad bastardin Italians.

I decided to make me own way back, and headed off down the long narrow road, with nothing on either side but bushes and fields and sheep. Jaysus! I hope I find me way back before that lunatic gets his hands on me. It’s going to be a long walk back.

I must have walked for fucking miles, I thought, looking at the trees coming up beside me as I headed into a forest. Feeling happy now to leave the open desolation of the bogs behind me. Then I heard a droning noise in the distance. I stopped to listen, hearing it coming from back up the mountain. I could see the dust flying up behind the speck of a car, as I craned me eyes into the distance. It weaved its way through the narrow roads, bombing down the mountain, leaving a trail of dust flying into the air.

That looks like fuck face! Wonder if I should try to get a lift from him? The thought only hit me for a second. Not on yer nelly! I’m killed stone dead if he gets his hands on me. I flew, making for the trees, planting meself behind a huge thick one, waiting for the car to get close. Here it comes. It tore around a bend and came flying down the straight bit of road and thundered into the forest. I held me breath, watching as it flew past, sending out the smell of burning rubber. It looked like there was smoke coming out of the tyres as they tore over loose stones, flying them into the air. The car vanished for a minute, getting lost in the smoke coming out of the exhaust pipe.

Fuck! The speed a him, I thought. Getting a flash of him gripping the steering wheel, looking like he had murder on his mind. From now on I better watch meself with him. He’s going to be out to get me. No, I’m not turning me back on him. Definitely not.

I took off, hoping I would make it back in time for work. It doesn’t look like it now. Not at the distance I’m covering.

The curse a Jaysus on that bastard anyway! Ah, shut up, Martha! What did yeh think he was after? Hmm! Still an all. I thought I might strike lucky and end up having a lovely time, after he maybe taking me for a drive around the place. Then going for a coffee into town or something. That he might have been nice to me, driving nice and quiet, with the two of us having a lovely chat. No, there’s nothing for nothing. There’s always a price to pay for everything. Still, not everyone is as bad as that little weasel. Look at all the girls that get themself nice fellas! Ah, to hell with it! I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend anyway.

OK, I better get a move on. Jaysus! I wonder what time it is? The aul one will kill me if I’m late. I started to really hurry. Running slowly through the forest. Right, nearly getting somewhere, I thought. Staring through the trees, seeing the light in the distance. But I was still walking half an hour later. ‘That’s what it feels like. How much time has really gone past?’ I muttered, stopping to listen to the silence around me. I’m still no further on. It feels like I have been on this bleedin path before. I hope I’m not going around in circles. I stared at the ground, not wanting to break me neck over something, and I could feel the fear creeping up through me, seeing I was beginning to lose the light. I kept going, dragging me legs, feeling like they were two iron bars.

Bastards! I hate men. All they ever want to do is get their hands on you. Pity I didn’t let that fucking car run over yer man and bleedin bury him in the mountains, like he threatened to do to me. I could feel meself beginning to cry with tiredness and the exhaustion of walking all day. I’m fucking starving, and freezing with the cold. No, he better watch out for me. I’ll shove his ugly fucking face in that deep-fat fryer when I get me hands on him. ‘AHHHH!’ I threw back me head and screamed with the rage. ‘Yer a stupid bastard!’ Then I let out me breath and dropped me shoulders and carried on. Hearing me screams still echoing around the forest.

Then, suddenly, a clearing opened up in front of me, and I was back on the road again. ‘I’M OUT! YEAH, YIPPEE!’ At last. I made it! Me heart gladdened at the sight of the road running down the mountain, leading me back into Hangman’s Wood. I’ll be so happy to see people again. Get back at last to the café and eat a load of lovely grub. Oh, I can’t wait. I’m definitely going to get to bed early. As soon as I finish work.

I stopped and took one last look back at the woods behind me, seeing how dark it got. I gave a shiver, thinking I could have been lost in there for the whole night. I moved on quickly, wanting to make tracks and get down the mountain as quickly as possible. I’m not out of trouble yet. I could still get stranded up here with all them fields around me, not knowing where I’m going in the dark.

I walked on, feeling the tar road jar up through me as I dragged me feet, lifting one foot after the other. Letting them fall back down again, feeling bone weary, like I’ll never move again after this. The light kept fading very fast, and I was staring with me eyes wide open trying to see everything in the half-dark. ‘Oh, God! I don’t like where I’ve landed meself now. It’s too quiet,’ I muttered in a whisper to meself. I walked along the narrow road and kept looking up at the high stone walls. It feels like they are closing in on me and I’m afraid I’ll run into something around the next bend. You never know what’s waiting in hiding for you in this bleedin dark. Now it’s all big trees and hedges. I stared up at the high hedges with big trees growing behind them. I could hear the wind blowing through them, making it sound like they were whispering in the dark and trying to reach out and grab me.

At last! I finally made it down the hill, leaving the dark road behind me, and came out onto a wide open road, and stopped for a minute to get me breath. I looked down the rest of the mountain at the city below. Seeing the lights twinkling in the distance. It really looks lovely from this height. Standing up here on this dark hill, with me breath turning to frost and the silence all around me. It feels like time is standing still. I could be without a worry in the world. Just standing looking at all the lights beginning to flicker on.

‘Right, now I know I’m nearly there,’ I puffed. The tiredness beginning to make me legs and back burn with the pain now seemed easier. I took off down the hill, half-running with the thought I’ll soon get there. Then I heard a car coming up behind me. It slowed down as it went past me, then stopped. The driver said something to the elderly woman sitting beside him and the two of them stared out the back window at me.

I hesitated, seeing an old man and woman. They’re OK. Maybe they want to give me a lift. I rushed up and the woman opened the window, rolling it down. ‘Excuse me! I wonder would you mind please giving me a lift down to the village? I need to get there in a hurry!’

‘Yes, of course, dear. What on earth are you doing at this time in the evening walking around up here?’ she said, clucking her tongue.

‘Hop in the back,’ said the man, looking at me then looking in shock at the wife. ‘Do you know anything can happen to you wandering around up here on your own?’ said the old man, looking back at me and shaking his head like he never saw the like of it before in his life. ‘Young ones have no sense.’

‘No,’ said the wife. ‘The older they get, the worse they get. You nearly have to watch them twenty-four hours a day! What brought you up here?’ said the woman, staring at me like I was her granddaughter and I better have a good excuse.

I just stared at her. Shaking me head, saying, ‘I thought it was a good idea at the time.’

‘Did you get lost?’ the old man asked me, not taking his eyes off the road.

‘Yeah, yeah, I did,’ I said. Turning me head and looking back up the mountain at the trees, seeing it was really pitch black now. Jaysus! I just made it down in time, I thought. Letting meself fall back into the seat, wriggling and settling meself for more comfort. oh, this is great. Here I am in out of the cold and getting a rest at last. I let me head fall back on the cushioned leather seat and stared out at more hedges and trees slowly going past. While this time all I had to do was just sit here feeling happy to be safe and sound, sitting in the back of the car with these really kind people, knowing they would do me no harm.

I closed me eyes, feeling a lovely sense of peace settle inside me as I listened to them muttering away contentedly to each other. The heat hummed out of the fan and washed over me, melting away the icy cold in me bones from being all day out in the frosty mountain. I felt meself beginning to doze off, with the seat gently rocking me. The rhythmic noise from the wheels of the car under me was eating up the road, and all I had to do was sit here, and I would be taken to where I’m going. Gawd, cars are really marvellous things for getting you where you want. Especially if you’re in the right company, and you know you’ll be safe and sound when you get there. With nobody looking for payment, like that mad bastard.

I stirred meself, seeing I was back at last. ‘Will you just leave me off down at the shops?’ I said, leaning across the seat and pointing at the shops ahead. ‘Thank you very much for your kindness,’ I smiled, feeling very grateful to them. I could see we were nearly passing them by.

‘We can drop you home,’ said the old lady, turning to me.

‘No, this is it. The shops will be fine, thanks.’ The old man pulled over and stopped the car.

‘Don’t stay out too late now!’ the old woman said. Staring at me and looking at the chip shop with all the young ones and young fellas hanging around outside.

‘No, no, I won’t. I really am very grateful to the two of you! I’ll say a little prayer for you before I go to bed tonight,’ I said, staring in at the two of them with their heads nearly together, looking out at me.

‘Yes! Good girl. You do that,’ said the old woman, smiling at me. The man nodded his head up and down, agreeing with his wife, then he took off, driving slowly up the road.

I looked over at the shop, seeing the lights blazing inside, with people sitting in the café, eating and drinking. With more people standing around the counter, waiting to be served. The bright lights from the café were throwing shadows on the footpath, lighting up the darkness outside. My God! It’s pitch black out! It really is dark now, so that means it must be very late. I wonder what time it is? Oh, dear God! I’m dead late. I hope I’m not in big trouble.

Me heart started to hammer like mad in me chest at the thought of facing into the aul one because I knew I was late. Even worse, Touchy will be there! Fuck him! I’ll brain him, if he gives me any more hardship!

I took in a deep breath and made for the shop. The aul fella saw me coming and rushed inside to the family kitchen. I clapped eyes on Touchy. Wearing his dirty white apron, over his old clothes. He stopped what he was doing, and held onto a basket of chips and watched me coming in the door. I said nothing, just stared back, watching him shake his head up and down, with his eyes half-closing, squinting at me like I was in for it now. Looking like he had been waiting for me. His face was white and the side of his jaw was swollen. I took in another deep breath and pushed past him, keeping me eyes steady, showing him I was ready for him. No, fuck face. I’m not afraid of a little squirt like you, I thought.

I was just heading through the door and up the stairs to get changed into me old clothes when I hear roars behind me. ‘Momento! You wait! I wanta talk to you!’ the mamma shouted, grabbing her frock and holding onto the banisters, puffing her way up the stairs after me. Trying to get up in a hurry. ‘I am going to tell you to leave,’ she snorted, dragging herself into the room and holding her chest, trying to get her breath back. I looked at her, not able to take in what she was saying. ‘You go. Out of here. I no want trouble.’

‘Why? What did I do?’ I said, wondering what was wrong with her. I hadn’t done anything wrong on her, I thought, staring at her. Trying to figure out why she was turning on me.

‘You come back here late,’ she said, holding up her hand and slapping her fingers one by one. ‘You go gallivanting with the boys. No nice girl do that in my family. What you do is your business.’

‘But I only went for a drive with Alfonso,’ I said. Still not able to take in what was happening.

‘No, no, I don’t want to hear! It is not good, what you did.’

‘What did I do?’ I shouted, losing the rag.

‘You upset Alfonso. His face. What did you do to him? He is a nice boy!’

‘The bastard attacked me!’ I shouted. She stared at me for a minute. Knowing full well what I was talking about.

I held me breath, waiting for her to say something. Hoping she might say, ‘Well, you have learned your lesson. Don’t go off in cars with men again. OK, go to work! Alfonso got what he deserved. Maybe he won’t be so quick to mess with girls again. Now, don’t give me any more trouble.’

I waited. Me chest getting tighter. Please, God, don’t let me lose me job. Then I heard her say . . . I lost the first few words, not able to take them in. I listened, while they flew around the room. Then I caught up with the words. ‘Well, I am not having this in my home. First thing in the morning, I want you out of here. First thing!’ she shouted, rushing her big fat body across the floorboards, making them thump and rock up and down. Then she was gone. Out the door and down the stairs. I heard her rush into the family kitchen and start shouting. Then it died away as she slammed the door shut.

I stood stock still. Hearing no more sounds. I was left with the sound of my breathing, and the feeling of pain as my heart hammered away in me chest. Not believing what just happened. I turned slowly around the room, taking in the wardrobe, the two beds against the wall, the curtains pulled closed. No one ever opens them, I thought. Then I stared down at my suitcase, thinking that’s the only thing that ever stays with me. Everything else comes and goes. But it’s just me and me suitcase! I felt somehow I had something that belonged to me. Me suitcase, carrying all me things. They belong to me. I have something that belongs to me. I’m not on me own really. I’m not down and out. No, a suitcase means I’m going somewhere.

Jaysus! I’m on the move again. Ah, well, it was nice while it lasted. I even picked up a bit of Italian. ‘Fungolase!’ ‘Basta!’ Fuck off, and stop! That should come in handy.

I woke up, seeing the light make its way in through the curtains. I looked around the room, hearing the sounds of snoring. Everyone was still fast asleep. They won’t get up until later. I looked over, seeing Rosa plastered over the whole double bed. Lying on her back with her mouth wide open, huge snores blasting out of her mouth.

Maria is not there. She must be gone to school. Must be later then I thought. I better get up and get moving.

I moved gently, not wanting to wake Mary. Scrunched up in a ball with her hands in a fist, and her head pushed into the wall. She’s out for the count. Poor Mary! God love her. I wonder if she will ever get to be happy? I think she’s carrying the worry of all her little brothers and sisters. I worry like that meself. But the ma and Jackser is holding onta them! Jaysus! Don’t start, Martha. You have enough to worry you at the minute, to start finding another job. The kids will take off one by one, just like I did. Charlie has already done that, by the sound of things. Yeah, a hard life is about waiting. Just waiting for the time to come when yeh can start leading your own life. Well, that’s what I’m able to do.

Pity I can’t manage to stay in the one job, though. Whatever it is about me, no matter how hard I try. I even tell meself I’m going to be good. But I always end up getting into fights, losing me job. Getting bloody fired! How does that happen? I can’t understand it. Other people . . . like Mary. She keeps quiet and nobody bothers her! Hmm, maybe I’m just not the quiet type! Some people say they can hear me before they see me. Fuck! Pity I’m not the quiet type! Even the ma’s very quiet! No, thank God I’m not quiet after all! Look what kept happening to her! Right! I’m grand as I am. People can take me or leave me. Right, better get moving.

I grabbed me washbag from the end of the wardrobe, pushing all the others’ stuff piled on top out of the way. Jaysus! There was never any room for anything here anyway. I had to keep all me stuff in me suitcase. I hurried out to the bathroom, and brushed me teeth and washed me face. Then combed me hair. No bath this morning. The water wouldn’t be hot enough. Right, better get dressed. Yeah. And collect me wages from Saturday. That aul one owes me for one day. I wonder how much that is?

I came out of the bathroom and down onto me own landing, hearing the snores coming from the fellas’ room. They’re all still asleep in there. Then I had an idea. I turned the handle of their door quietly, making sure not to make it squeak. The door opened a little and I put me head in. Jaysus! Look at the state a the lot of them. They’re filthy! The smell is disgusting. Rubber man, the fella that peels the potatoes and wears the rubber apron and Russian boots, was draped over Francesco. With his arm covering his head.

Francesco was breathing fast, trying to get air, because he was caught under rubber boots, with the blanket over his face and the big hand holding him down. Me eyes peeled to the single bed, with Touchy lying on his side, curled up in a ball, and the blankets wrapped up all around him. The only thing sticking out was his nose. Me eyes peeled all along the floor, then lit on Alfonso’s clothes sitting in a heap, lying on the floor beside his bed where he’d dumped them last night. Fucker! You caused all the trouble! I even think you are too thick to get the message why you ended getting your teeth knocked out. I could feel me annoyance rising up again. Right!

I dropped me washbag on the landing and crept in quietly. Yeah, his work clothes. I grabbed the lot up in one go, seeing his shoes sitting under the bed and grabbed them, too. I crept off, holding me breath, and me face tight, and took off out the door on me tippy toes. What will I do with them? Yeah, the bathroom. I dumped them in the bath, smothering them in water until they were soaking to nothing. Then grabbed up the basin sitting on the shelf at the end of the bath and dumped them in it. Right, where will I hide them? Under the stuff in my bedroom. Well, Rosa’s bedroom. Hee, hee! This is great!

I opened the wardrobe and pulled everything to one side and dumped the lot back over the basin. Then flew for me washbag and dived for me clothes. I better wear me work clothes. I’m definitely not ruining me one and only set of good clothes for nothing. I must have worn the soles of me good patent shoes with all that walking yesterday. Jaysus! I better make me escape before they wake up.

I put on me old coat and picked up me case and handbag and took off out the door and down the stairs. ‘So, you are ready to go?’ Fatty, the aul one said, coming out of the kitchen and wiping her hands on a tea towel. Lifting her head back and landing her fat arms on her hips, with her legs planted, watching to make sure I got the message.

‘Yes, I’m going now. But first I want me wages.’

‘You only worked one day. Saturday. Here is your money,’ she said, diving her hand into her massive blue frock with the white dots and coming up with two half crowns. ‘Here, take it. One day’s work.’

‘Thanks, missus. Goodbye,’ I said, satisfied with the five shillings and making off out the side door.

I went out into the early morning, seeing the grey-blue light. It sounded quiet, with cars in the distance and the odd person walking down to get their shopping. Me breath hung around me face with the cold. Fuck! Winter. January. At least it’s dry.

Right, I better get the bus into town and wait for the evening paper. Please, God, help me to find another job.