I woke up staring over at the light coming in through the heavy yellow cotton curtains on the big window in front of my bed. It must be late, I thought. Staring around the room, taking in the big mahogany wardrobe behind the door and the dressing table with a big mirror and a stool sitting in front of it. I listened to the sounds of traffic coming from far down the hill on the main road. Thinking I could be still down there wandering around like a lost soul. I’m definitely very lucky to have landed meself here in this lovely family. The woman is a dote altogether.
I listened to the voices coming up through the ceiling. A little child’s voice squealing and the baby crying, and the murmuring of the mammy. I better get up and give her a hand. I was out of the bed and rooting around in me suitcase for me clean skirt and blouse. I didn’t want to be wearing me good clothes, the frock the reverend mother bought me. I picked up me coat collapsed over the chair, where I landed it in the early hours of the morning, and hung it on a hanger in the wardrobe. Then rushed out to the bathroom, seeing it open, lying empty, and dived in, brushing me teeth and washing me face in the sink and out again, feeling in an awful hurry. I quickly brushed me hair, and dressed in me old skirt, but it is washed and ironed, and put on me white blouse and me blue granny cardigan I got for Christmas, and took the stairs two at a time and walked down the hall.
Then I stopped before I got to the kitchen. I felt a bit nervous. Being in someone else’s house, especially after landing meself at all hours of the night and causing ructions waking the baby. Gawd! They must think I’m an awful person, not giving a damn about anyone!
I knocked on the door quietly, feeling more foolish, but not wanting to make things worse by steaming in as if I owned the place. I listened for a second, hearing a child squealing, making sounds like he thought it sounded great, then stopping for a listen and squealing again. I took in a deep breath and turned the handle of the door, walking into the kitchen. ‘Eh, good morning,’ I croaked to the back of Clare, standing at the sink washing up dishes.
‘Hello! Good morning!’ Clare smiled, looking around from washing the breakfast things in the sink and taking me in. ‘How did you sleep?’
‘Oh, I slept the sleep of the dead, Clare,’ I breathed, sounding mournful, like I had never been so tired in a long time.
‘Here, put on the kettle, I’ll have a cup of tea with you, and then I’ll start the dinner. There’s cornflakes and bread, help yourself, take a look in the fridge. Do you want fruit? Throw in a banana. They’re lovely in cornflakes, otherwise the only goodness is in the milk. Cornflakes are a waste of money, they do nothing for you!’
‘Thanks, Clare,’ I said, putting on the kettle and sticking bread in the toaster. I looked back, hearing screams behind me, jumping with the fright seeing the little boy behind me twisting himself laughing at me, lepping at the fright he gave me. ‘Oh, what’s your name?’ I said, dropping to me knees looking into his little white face with the big blue eyes staring back at me, examining me. Deciding if he was going to like me or not. I shook me head slowly from side to side, staring into his eyes, saying, ‘That was an awful fright you gave me. You make an awful big, big noise, you sound like a big, big giant! Are you a big giant?’ I said, putting my arms in the air. His eyes got bigger and bigger, thinking himself a giant, and he shook his head up and down, his white hair bouncing, with his mouth open, agreeing with everything I said.
He’s the spitting image of his mother, I thought, watching as he whirled around on his hunkers, holding a little car in his hand, and kept grinning at me. ‘Ah, he’s lovely,’ I said, wanting to grab him up in a hug.
‘That’s Timothy!’ Clare said, laughing. Watching him twirling like a monkey, his little arse nearly skidding the floor.
‘Look, Mummy!’ he said to me, showing me his car.
‘He’s calling me “Mummy”!’ I laughed, staring at the size of him. Ah, he’s so small, with his little legs and arms, but he looks like a miniature little boy.
‘Yes, he calls all the ladies “Mummy”. He’s two, into the terrible twos!’ she said, looking up at the ceiling. Straining her eyes and face to the heavens.
‘Would you like me to make you a cup of coffee or tea, Clare?’
‘Hmm! Listen, let’s have a fry-up! I fancy a rasher and egg. What about you?’ she said, her eyes staring at me, waiting for an answer. I hesitated, not wanting to make work for her. ‘Ah, sure, why not?’ she said, looking over at tiny baby Aoife sound asleep in her little basket over beside the armchair, keeping nice and warm beside the lovely heat coming out from the Aga. ‘She’s gone out cold. She had her last feed at six o’clock this morning, it’s after nine now, she probably might not stir for about another hour or so. That gives me plenty of time to get a few things done,’ she said, drying her hands and making for the fridge.
‘Will I put on more toast for everyone?’ I asked, wanting to make meself useful.
‘Yeah! Go on! Toast! Toast, Mummy!’ Timothy said, looking up at me with his big blue eyes and tapping his chest.
‘Ah, listen to him,’ I laughed. ‘He’s gorgeous! Just look at the size of him. Ah, Clare. Ye could pick him up and put him in yer pocket and run away with him, he’s so lovely.’ I suddenly dropped on me hunkers, grabbing him in a hug and kissing him on his cheeks before he had a chance to push me away, roaring in a rage.
‘No, no, no! Toast, toast!’ flapping me face away with his little hands. I laughed, delighted at getting me hug, and jumped up, buttering him a slice of toast.
‘Will I put jam or marmalade on it for him? What will he drink?’
‘Give him orange juice out of the fridge, Martha. And he likes jam, but give him marmalade. He has to develop his tastes,’ she said, slapping down rashers and sausages on the grill over the cooker.
‘Come on! Orange juice,’ I said, watching his head spinning, trying to keep up with the toast going in one direction, and the smell of the fry in the other. His head snapping to the cornflakes and bananas landing on the table. He rushed over to the drawer, pulling out a huge serving spoon, and lashed back to the table, grabbing the cornflakes, upending half the packet in the bowl, spilling cornflakes everywhere. Then made to grab the heavy jug of milk. ‘OK, OK, little man!’ I said, grabbing hold of the jug. ‘Let me help you.’
I picked up the bowl to empty half of it back and put in the milk, and he went into a rage, giving the table an unmerciful bang with the spoon, roaring, ‘Mine, mine!’
‘Yes, yes, of course they are yours. Oh, look what Mummy is doing!’ He whipped his head around to look at her, and I dumped half the bowl back in the box and handed him the rest, putting in the milk. His head shot back, staring down at the cornflakes, trying to remember if that was all he had. ‘Yes, yes! All for Timothy. Nobody is going to take them. Gawd! He has a great appetite,’ I said, looking at Clare, laughing at the state he gets himself into over his grub.
‘Oh, he would eat you under the table,’ she laughed, watching him spoon half the bowl down the front of his pyjamas and open his mouth, trying to get the big shovel in.
‘Will I get him a little spoon, Clare?’
‘No, don’t bother, if you don’t want a fight on your hands. Let’s eat,’ she said, whipping two plates of rashers and sausages and fried eggs down on the table.
I sat down and started to butter the toast, and Timothy banged down his shovel and grabbed a rasher off my plate. ‘Me, Mummy!’ he said, holding the rasher in front of his face, knowing full well they were supposed to be mine.
I roared laughing at the little eyes pleading with me, his head cocked to one side. ‘Yeah, you and me,’ I said, shaking me head at him. He nodded agreement, and started to make short work of the rasher.
‘These are the perks of being a mother,’ she said, diving into her breakfast. ‘Greg leaves early in the morning, to arrive at the hospital in the city centre. I get up to get his breakfast, but he wouldn’t have time for this,’ she laughed. ‘I have to drag him out of the bed, then watch him running to the car still eating his breakfast, and grab the empty bowl out of the car before he takes off like a scalded cat. He’s hopeless at getting up. His mother warned me about that, just before we got married,’ she laughed. ‘He’s hoping to start his own practice when we get the money,’ she sighed, her jaws working slowly, chewing on the breakfast, thinking about this. ‘Goodness knows when that might be!’ she said, letting air out through her nose, staring down at her plate, looking to see what she was going to eat next.
‘Is it expensive to become a family doctor?’ I asked.
‘Oh, yes,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘You need the premises. We couldn’t have it here. There’s no access from the front. Unless we want patients traipsing through the house, staring at me eating a fry for breakfast,’ she laughed, making a tinkly sound, like someone tapping gently on crystal. ‘His brother Francis is also a doctor, so the two of them are planning to go into practice together.’
I stared at her, thinking she was really very, very pretty. Wondering how some people could be born so lovely. She has milky white skin that glowed like a pink hue. And her eyes are sky-blue, with the whites nearly shining. And she has natural blonde wavy curly hair that bounces around her head. ‘Eh, you’re very pretty,’ I said. ‘You must have had all the men going mad after you!’ I said, grinning.
‘Will you stop! They see blonde, and they think dumb! It’s very hard to get men to take you seriously, with this,’ she said, whipping her hand around her hair.
‘Why, what’s wrong with that?’ I asked. ‘I’d love the men chasing me all the time!’
‘Ah, come on, Martha. They just want to drape you around their arm like a trophy. Then it’s trying to get you drunk and have their wicked way with you!’ she squealed. Picking up a bit of the fat off the rasher and throwing it down again.
‘Still, you must have been on lots of dates,’ I said, thinking about the idea of having men queuing up to take me out.
‘No, it’s not like that. The decent ones wouldn’t come near you, because they think you are out of their league, and anyway! They think you’re fast. Their mother wouldn’t approve. A loose woman,’ she screamed. Roaring her head laughing.
‘Yeah! But you got a lovely one in the end. Greg is very handsome. The pair of you together look like film stars!’ I gasped, not being able to get over the idea of being so pretty and getting a lovely husband to match you.
‘Oh, tell that to Greg and he’ll dine out on it for the next six months,’ she said, roaring her head off with the laughing.
I started to munch on me toast as Timothy gently leaned over to take me other rasher, giving me a big smile, showing all his little teeth, and leaning his neck into his shoulders while he put the rasher in his mouth, watching me. I looked at the egg and sausage left sitting on me plate and dived into it before he got that, too.
‘Yeah, eat that quickly,’ Clare said, eyeing me plate. ‘He really has taken a fancy to you. He thinks he’s helping you!’
‘Go on over and help Mummy,’ I whispered to him. ‘Look! She has sausages!’
‘Ah, no chance. I’m well up to him,’ she said, shoving the two sausages on her toast and biting into half of the sandwich, watching him staring over at her, thinking about it. ‘I don’t know where he gets his appetite,’ she said, shaking her head and wondering about it. ‘He would eat anything that doesn’t move.’
‘What about your other little boy?’
‘Oh, Oliver! We have to collect him at one o’clock,’ she said, looking over at the clock sitting on the back wall over the door into the garden. ‘Yes, Martha. That’s what I really need you for. To take him to school in the morning. He leaves at eight-thirty. And it’s a twenty-five, thirty-minute walk there. I timed it walking back with him last week. Then you leave the house at twelve-thirty to collect him at one o’clock. My mother will be coming to stay here while we are away. We’re going for three weeks. So you can take care of the children, you’ll be in charge of them. My mother will do all the cooking.’
‘Oh, that’s a relief, Clare. I can’t cook.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about that. My mother loves cooking. My little princess here,’ she said, lifting her head to check over on the baby still clapped out cold, ‘she’s going to Greg’s mother. I will pay you ten shillings a week. It’s not much, but you don’t have to do much. Just help with the children and collect Oliver from school. Maybe the odd bit of babysitting. We don’t go out much, but you wouldn’t mind that, would you?’
‘Of course not,’ I said, looking at her worried face.
‘Now, it will only be for a total of five weeks. Then you will have to get another job. The nun said you will find work yourself, so it will give you time to look around. Is that OK?’
‘Yeah, that’s grand, Clare. I’ll have another job fixed up by then, so don’t worry. How old is Oliver?’
‘He’s five! Going on fifty!’ she laughed. ‘He’s in senior infants. This is his second year at school. We started him at four. These two are like chalk and cheese. Timmy could charm the birds off the trees with his cheeky little grin, but poor Ollie has to work hard to make friends at school. He takes life far too seriously, and the other little boys give him a hard time. He questions everything and goes around giving them lectures on why he thinks they are being silly. Naturally, that doesn’t win him many friends. He even contradicts the teacher,’ she said, shaking her head laughing, but her eyes were sad. ‘He’s very intelligent. That can cause its own problems.’
‘Do you mean he doesn’t suffer fools gladly?’ I said, trying to understand.
‘Yes, I suppose that’s one way of putting it, Martha,’ she suddenly laughed. ‘He probably needs to move up a class. We’ll have to see. Anyway, I better get a move on,’ she said, looking up at the clock. ‘The time is moving quickly.’
She stood up, taking her dishes over to the sink, and I started to clear the table. ‘I better make a start on the dinner. Baby is going to wake up any time now, wanting her next feed.’
I put the dustpan and sweeping brush in the press and looked around at the lovely clean kitchen. The sink was gleaming and everything was in its place. Lovely, I thought, giving a big sigh and
dropping my shoulders, feeling contented after doing a good job.
The door whipped open and Clare flew in carrying Timmy under her arm, squealing and kicking his legs. ‘Don’t you dare send that poo flying out of that nappy,’ she roared, trying to keep him at a distance and still hang onta him.
‘Gawd! I can smell him from here,’ I laughed, watching the nappy full of shit slip down his legs.
‘Don’t complain,’ she said, laughing. ‘You’re safe over there, I’m the one in the firing line. Given half a chance, he’ll tear it off and sling it everywhere, and not for the first time. Where’s that Sudocrem?’ she muttered, swinging her head around the kitchen. ‘Martha, grab the baby’s changing bag and give me out the cream. Quickly, before this fellow has a fit.’
She took off with the cream, swinging Timmy under her arm, and glanced up at the clock, shouting back to me, ‘Goodness! Look at the time, Martha. You better get going now! And collect poor Ollie. He’ll be left standing at the gate thinking we’ve forgotten about him.’
‘OK, right. I’m on my way,’ I said, flying up the stairs behind her to head to my room and get me coat.
‘Now, you know where it is! Turn left at the top of the hill, and keep walking. Then right, up the hill, after the chuch. You can’t miss it.’
‘Right! I’ll be there in a flash. Don’t worry, I never have a problem finding my way around anywhere,’ I said, rushing in to take me old green coat out of me suitcase, and dump the case back in the wardrobe, and tear off down the stairs.
I slammed the hall door shut behind me and took off up the hill, forgetting about the big dog that nearly scared the life out of me last night. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I heard a deep growling, and before I knew where I was a huge big brown hairy dog threw itself at the big black gates, rattling the hell outa them. Ah, help! Mammy! Me heart froze in me mouth as I whipped me head around, looking straight into the open snarling jaws of the biggest dog I ever saw in me life. I stared at it for a split second, and its mad red eyes stared back at me. Me jaw dropped, watching as the muscles rippled along his back, then stiffen, getting himself ready to spring. I flew me eyes the length of the gate, judging if he can jump it, then another split second spent judging if I should run, or stand me ground. ‘Stand! That’s always better!’ I gasped to meself outa breath. Then it slowly, deliberately, stepped backwards on its paws, the eyes never leaving mine. It was as if he could read my mind and was going to attempt to spring over the gate.
I blinked, swung me head, threw back me shoulders, and tore off up the hill, me feet not touching the ground, running for me life. I dare not look back. I blocked out everything, letting the quiet around me settle, listening for the sound of racing paws tearing up behind me, me skin on alert for the feel of hot wet breath on the back of me neck. I rounded the corner at ninety miles an hour, and kept running. ‘Ah, help! Mammy!’ I moaned, me elbows flying like propellers. Me arse pulled tight, tingling with the heat, waiting for the jaws to lock onta me, any minute now! I could hear a car coming up behind me and shot out in front of it, me whole body tingling, waiting for the knock, hoping I’d left enough distance not to get meself killed and maybe slow down the dog. Giving me time to throw out one eye to see if he was behind me. No sign!
As I whizzed past the windscreen, seeing the driver look shocked, flying the steering wheel for all he was worth, hearing the screeching brakes, heading the car away from me, sliding over towards the high wall. Jaysus! Am I kilt stone dead, I wondered as I whirled around, me eyes peeling from him yanking the steering again, trying to wrestle the car away from the high stone wall, and fly along the footpath, then me eyes slid down the road. No! The dog didn’t make it.
Oh, Jaysus! What a fright I got for meself! Me heart was pounding, and I could feel me face icy cold. Oh, Mammy! I never want to go through the like of that again. I’m afraid of me life of dogs, especially the size of that one. It looked like one of them big hairy cows ye get in Scotland. I saw a picture of them in a book, and that one was definitely bigger! I collapsed back against the old stone wall, dropping me head, sliding down, hanging onta me chest, trying to get a breath. Me legs seized up, feeling like lead.
‘YOU THERE!’ I snapped me head up just in time to see an aul fella, white as a sheet, leap out of the car making straight for me. Leaving the door wide open and the car wheels still up on the footpath. His head was bent forward with his fists clenched down by his side, wanting to get at me in a hurry, looking like he really meant business, because he was going to kill me when he got his hands on me. I watched him, not able to take me eyes off him, with his long gaberdine coat trailing out behind him. Fuck! I’m really for it now.
‘YOU BLOODY MENACE!’ he shouted, waving his fist at me.
‘I . . . oh . . . eh, it was an accident,’ I said, waving me arms, leaving me hand hanging in the air. Watching him get closer. Bloody hell, run! He looks like he might hold onto me for the police! They’re very fond of them in places like this.
I took off, heading in the direction of the school, hoping he wouldn’t follow me. Jaysus! I could lose me job. If the people find out I’m liable to be throwing meself under the path of cars . . . Well, that’s the end of me. There’s no way they would let me loose with Ollie! Fuck that bleeding dog! I’m never daring to go past that gate again!
I kept running, hearing the car come up behind me, and slowed down to get a look, ready to run back in the other direction. The car slowed down, and the baldy-headed aul fella started turning the handle on the window like mad, desperate to give me an earful. Then swung his head out, shouting, ‘You bloody mad young horror! I shall find out where you live, and complain vigorously to your parents. How dare they let you loose on the unsuspecting drivers! Stand still when I am speaking to you!’ he screamed, going purple in the face, really losing the rag altogether.
‘Sorry, I’m in an awful hurry,’ I mumbled, taking off again, knowing I was right. He would hang onta me, causing ructions. He’s not the sort to let things go. That kind of aul fella would hang you for looking crooked at him. I can see he has nothing else to do with his time! Jaysus! I don’t like the sort of people living around here! Many’s the time in the city centre I raced out under a car and all they do is curse you out of it. Threatening to knock the head offa ye if they get their hands on ye.
‘Right, Baldy! Catch me if you can!’ I muttered. Turning right and flying up the hill, along the narrow road with the high walls, wrapping around huge houses hidden away in their own grounds. I looked back ready to stop and dare him. Then I could duck back, going in the opposite direction again, giving him no chance to turn the car around because the road was too narrow.
‘No sign of him,’ I muttered, staring down the hill into the distance. Hearing only the quiet of the trees rustling in the breeze behind the high walls. I felt the wind going out of me. Pity! I was beginning to enjoy meself. The thought of driving him mad when he couldn’t get his hands on me. Ah, well! I took in a big sigh, dropping me shoulders, and let out a big breath, feeling better now me heart had stopped threatening to burst, and felt plenty of fresh air in me lungs after that run.
Right! Next time keep your eyes peeled for trouble. There’s plenty of guard dogs round these parts. They must have plenty to rob and want to make sure no one gets their hands on their ill- gotten gains! I heard once, no one gets rich unless they first had to crawl on the backs of some poor unfortunates to get it. The poor are too honest, and they share the last penny in their pockets with you. Well! You certainly never become filthy rich unless ye came by it robbing someone. Hmm! Takes one robber to know another! I sniffed, looking up at the big mansions sitting on top of the hill. I was only in the half-penny place when I was doing me robbing. Yeah, well! One day I’m going to live in a big house like these, and I’ll get there through hard work. No more robbing for me! I thought, straightening me shoulders and moving up the hill, feeling light as air, with not a care in the world.
I neared the school gates, seeing the mothers coming out holding little boys’ hands and carrying their school bags. I started to hurry, wanting to get to Ollie. I rushed in the big gates and slowed down to get me bearings. The school was massive! It looked like a lovely old castle. With big arched brown doors and narrow long windows that went down to the ground. I could see a long winding avenue. With green lawns and trees around the high walls. Mothers were standing around talking to each other, while the boys went mad, chasing and pulling hell out of each other.
I passed two aul ones nattering away, one interrupting the other. Neither one was listening. The pair of them screaming at each other until one said, ‘Stop, Simone! You just have to hear this.’
‘Do tell!’ gasped the other one. Thinking what she was going to say next, all the time shaking her head up and down while the other one yacked away for all she was worth in your woman’s face. I could tell she wasn’t listening. Her eyes kept blinking, with her neck leaning forward, ready to spring in, getting her turn when the other one paused for a breath.
One very glamorous woman was wearing a fur coat with black high heels, and a big black fur hat to match. I stopped to stare. Them high heels don’t go with that fur hat, I thought. She should be wearing boots. Like she was really dressed for the snow that’s not coming. I moved on slowly, earwigging and gaping with me mouth open. She was screaming in a high-pitched voice to another one with blonde hair curling around her fawn cashmere coat. ‘My dear, he came crawling back on all fours with a huge bouquet of flowers clutched in one arm, and an enormous bottle of Miss Dior perfume in the other! And a box of After Eight mints gripped under his arm, grovelling! He was then positively drooling when he saw me standing there, in my long chic transparent night ensemble, giving him one of my “you may look but you are certainly not having me for dessert” looks! I rasped demurely, then swanned off in a sultry pout after polishing off half a bottle of Dom Bénédictine all on my poor ownsome.’ Then she threw back her head, giving a piercing laugh.
The other one screamed her head off, neighing like a horse. Saying, ‘Oh, Miranda! You really are terrible! Poor man. It must have cost him a small fortune!’ The Fur Hat spluttered, dropping her head, bending herself in half, trying to get a breath with all the laughing.
I could smell the perfume as I slid past, not looking where I was going, and knocked against the handbag hanging off her arm. Suddenly, she noticed me and whipped her arm into the air, looking to see if it was still there, giving me a withering look. Then she slid her eyes sideways, taking me in from head to toe. Looking from me green coat that had seen better days, down to me bokety shoes that someone left behind when they were in a hurry to get loose from the convent. Now I was getting the wear outa them. She turned away, closing her eyes, and started whispering to the other aul one, the pair of them looking in my direction and saying something about me. Then your woman sniffed, and turned away from me like she had a bad smell under her nose and muttered something to the other one, and the two of them roared laughing.
I could feel me belly getting hot, with the rise coming up in me. I stared, boring holes in them. The cheek a her! Giving me dirty looks. I wonder who she thinks she is? Then I heard meself saying, ‘Is that animal dead, missus? Or does it just smell like that? And while I’m asking, do you put all that face paint on with a trowel? You would need more then that, missus, to hide your hatchet face,’ I said. Looking very sorrowful that someone could smell that bad and look so ugly. All the time pointing at her fur coat, then nodding me head slowly at her face.
‘What? Did you say something?’ she snapped, knowing full well what I just said.
‘Ah! Don’t worry about it. We all have our afflictions. Look at your woman standing beside you. That poor aul one is mutton dressed as lamb. Tut, tut! What aul ones will do to try and look young.’ Then I lifted me head into the air, twitching me nose like I just got a bad smell and marched off, trying to wobble me arse like Marilyn Monroe does in her films. Hearing them take in sharp breaths and mutter like mad, the pair of them going into shock. I could hear them agreeing like mad I was an insolent little bitch.
Jaysus! That one has so much paint and powder on her face, I wonder does her husband get an awful fright when he sees her without it? Fur coat an no knickers! They probably live on bread and margarine to afford this place. Real ladies don’t carry on like that lot. They’re all done up like a dog’s dinner. I bet she looks like a dying aul hag first thing in the morning, after all her eating and drinking and getting up to no good. Huh! They really fancy themselves no end, the people living around here.
I sniffed, feeling better at having me say on what I thought about them. Yeah! That put them aul ones in their place, the annoyance at their insults vanishing outa me. Right, to hell with them! Now, where’s little Ollie?
I spotted a teacher with books in her arms, standing with her ankles crossed and a pained look on her face. She was listening to a mother who was gabbing away like she was desperate. With her mouth working up and down, rattling her head like she was chewing on something. And all the time trying to hold onta the hand of a little fella hopping his hand up and down in the mammy’s and doing a tug of war trying to escape. No, I won’t bother asking her. That mother looks like she would eat the head offa me if I interrupted her in the middle of moiderin the poor aul teacher.
I wonder where Ollie is? I know what he looks like. I saw him in the photograph, and the mammy told the teacher Miss Prune to expect me.
I heard shouting coming from me right and saw three little fellas tearing lumps outa each other. ‘Give it back!’ screamed a little fella with shiny brown floppy hair as a young fella grabbed his school cap off his head with one hand, and with the other grabbed a hold of his school tie, trying to strangle him. The second young fella managed to tear the school bag away from the brown-haired little fella after tugging at it like mad. The little blackguard ended up flat on his arse when the little fella suddenly let go. He was now being dragged along the wet grass, desperately trying to grab hold of his tie to stop the life getting choked out of him. The fella with the hat then grabbed up the poor kid’s blazer thrown on the grass and ran, waving it around his head, laughing and squealing like a hyena.
‘I’m going straight to Miss Prune and tell her what you’ve done, Georgie Hillsop, and you too, Sebastian Fryer,’ the little floppy-haired boy shouted, getting to his feet. Then it hit me. That’s Ollie. Poor Ollie! Them little beggars!
‘Hey! Cut that out!’ I flew over, grabbing the hat and blazer off the little bully, and reached over to the other fella for the school bag, seeing the leather strap broken and the little demon wouldn’t let it go.
‘That’s my bag! Give it back,’ screamed Ollie, nearly losing his mind, red in the face, his eyes burning with rage, and tears.
‘Let it go,’ I said quietly, prising the fingers of the fair-haired, curly-headed little fella with the face of an angel, and the big blue spiteful eyes daring me to get the bag off him. ‘Let it go,’ I said again quietly, staring hard into his overfed white face with the knowing look in his baby-blue eyes that said, ‘Nothing in this life will ever be refused to me.’
‘How dare you touch me!’ he screamed. ‘I shall tell on you at once! My father will have you up before the bench. He is a High Court judge! You will go to prison!’
‘Yes!’ screamed the other fella. ‘Tell Miss Prune, Sebastian! Let’s go and tell her at once.’
‘No, you don’t,’ I said, grabbing hold of the two of them. ‘Now! You pair. Listen to me,’ I said quietly, bending down and looking hard into each of their faces. They stood stock still, staring at me in shock, as I held them clamped together, side by side, staring daggers into their eyes. ‘I am going to come to this school in the morning and tell all the boys you are both cowards! Do you know what that means?’ They shook their heads in shock. ‘No! You don’t,’ I said. ‘Well, it means you are not real boys! You are not brave. You are two sissies. Do you know what that means?’ They shook their heads up and down. Their eyes locked on mine. ‘Now, if the big boys hear you are both sissies! Cowards! Not brave! What do you think they will say? They will laugh at you, and shout every time they see you, “There go the two little cowards. They are bullies. They have to pick on other little boys who have no friends to protect them!” Do you think that might happen?’ I said, looking very shocked. ‘And, what’s worse . . .’ I took in a deep breath, ‘All the other boys in the class will laugh and call you names because you bully other little boys! So, do you want me to come here in the morning and tell all the mammies and the other boys in the school what you were doing to Oliver? I will, you know!’ I said quietly. They shook their heads up and down, and side to side, not knowing what was happening, and trying to take everything in at once. ‘Do you want that to happen?’ I whispered, looking very sad.
‘No!’ the blue-eyed little angel with the demon gone out of his eyes whispered. Now gone into complete shock. Nothing had ever happened to him like this before. No one had ever chastised him. Poor cocky little fella. If something went wrong, he wouldn’t be able to manage. I can see no one has ever threatened him in all his born days. Now he had the fear of God in him.
‘So, if you don’t want me to tell, what do you think you can do to make up to poor Oliver for tormenting him?’ I asked.
‘We are sorry,’ the pair of them whispered.
‘Hmm! I don’t know if that’s enough,’ I said, shaking me head. ‘What about if you all become friends? You make Oliver your best friend as well, then you’ll be three best friends and you can become heroes! Do you know why?’
‘No!’ the other fella said, moving closer, wanting to hear more.
‘Well, if someone else tries to hurt Oliver, you will be able to rescue him. You can become his protector. Like Ivanhoe! Did you ever see him on the television?’
‘Yeah! Yes, we did!’ they shouted, getting all excited.
‘Right, so which one of you is going to be Ivanhoe?’
‘Me!’
‘No, me!’ they shouted, thumping their chests.
‘Right! So, you can talk to Oliver tomorrow when he comes into school, and decide what names you are going to call yourselves. Yeah? Or I have a better idea,’ I said. ‘You can be the Three Muskeeters!’
‘I know that book,’ shouted Sebastian.
‘So do I! Daddy read me that story when I was little!’ shouted Georgie, hopping up and down with excitement.
‘Yes, I have that book as well, and I can read it myself!’ shouted Oliver.
They stopped to look at him, the air going out of them at the thought of Oliver being able to read for himself.
‘He will be in charge of reading and writing down all the orders you want to give to your men,’ I said, looking at them. ‘You need someone who can read, right?’
‘Right!’ they shouted. Grabbing Oliver around the shoulders, one each side of him.
‘You are our new best friend,’ whispered Sebastian.
‘Yeah, three best friends,’ laughed Georgie, shaking himself with the excitement, then looking very seriously into Oliver’s eyes. ‘Do you want to be our best friend?’ whispered Georgie, sounding like this was the most sacred thing in the whole wide world.
Oliver was confused, looking hopeful, but suspicious at the same time. ‘Do you mean you will play with me?’ asked Oliver. ‘And not fight with me?’
‘Nooo, never!’ they squeaked. Looking shocked at the idea.
‘OK,’ Oliver said, letting out a big breath, agreeing, like he was doing them a favour. ‘I will speak to you in the morning when I have a think about what names we should call ourselves.’
‘No, I’m going to decide my own name!’ shouted Sebastian.
‘Me too!’ shouted Georgie.
I saw Oliver heaving in a big breath, about to say something else, and I laughed, saying, ‘You have plenty of time tomorrow to work out everything. Just remember the Three Muskeeters’ motto, what they always say to each other, “One for all, and all for one!”’ I laughed, wrapping me hands around them, pulling them together. Then whipped Oliver ahead of me, saying, ‘Bye-bye, now! Remember, you are all very brave muskeeters! You look after each other.’
‘Bye, Sebastian! Bye, Georgie!’ shouted Oliver, waving his hand like he had been friends with them for years.
‘Bye, Oliver!’ they shouted.
I waved at the teacher, making her way down to me, saying, ‘I’m collecting Oliver!’
She smiled down nodding her head, then shouted at the two little fellas, ‘Come along, boys. Down here to me, where I can keep an eye on both of you!’
I stopped at the gate, calling Oliver. ‘Come on, Ollie! Put on your blazer and your hat.’
‘No! I don’t have to. You carry it! We must only wear those for school.’
‘OK! You’re the boss. Let’s go,’ I said, hanging onta the stuff and wondering how I was going to get past that dog.
We moseyed our way home slowly, with Ollie stopping to bend down and get a look at every leaf and bits of bark lying on the road, and wild bushes growing along the ditches, and looking up to see if there were any owls nesting in the high old trees.
‘Look, Ollie! Conkers,’ I shouted. Pointing to the brown chestnuts lying further down the path from the branches of the big old chestnut trees hanging over the wall. We flew down the path, and stopped, bending down to pick them up and load up Ollie’s school bag. ‘We can put holes and string through them tonight, and bring them to school in the morning, and you can have great gas having conker fights! What do you think?’
‘Yeah!’ Ollie said, the idea of it just dawning on him.
‘We can test them out when you get home, see which one is the best. Then you will have the champion one!’
‘Yeah? Yeah!’ Ollie screamed.
‘We’ll make some for your new friends, Georgie and Sebastian.’
‘No!’ Ollie said, stopping to think about this, his face dropping. ‘They won’t really be my friends,’ he said, looking very mournful, a faraway look in his eyes.
‘Why not? Course they will!’
‘Nooo. I don’t have any friends. They don’t like me. Everyone is very mean to me.’ I felt me heart sinking, looking at his poor face. He’s not as good-looking compared to Timmy. His red apple-shaped face, with the big freckles and the grey eyes don’t exactly jump out at you! And if you put the two of them together . . . well, poor Ollie has no chance at all. Fuck. He’s gorgeous in his own right! The kids just need to get to know him.
‘Ollie! Do all the boys have best friends? Or are there any like you, wanting to take their time about who they want to be friends with?’
‘Nooo, everyone got a best friend last year, when we started in the baby class. Except Wally Wilson . . .’
‘Yeah! Maybe he could be your friend.’
‘Nooo! He doesn’t count!’ Ollie said, seeing me eyes light up. ‘He still wets his pants, and cries for his mummy all the time!’
‘Oh! What about the other boys? Can they read like you?’
‘Nooo, they are only starting on the baby books. I’m the only one who can read properly!’ he said, sounding even more mournful, stabbing at the weeds coming out of the holes in the wall with a stick.
‘Right, come on, Ollie! We are going to get you new friends. Let’s get these conkers home, and we’ll do loads of them up for the morning. Then at breaktime you can hand them out to Georgie and Sebastian, and only people who want to play with you! Right, Ollie?’ I said to him flying up behind me. ‘And you can help them with their reading. They need you to help them. But you have to be patient, they are not as clever as you! Do ye see what I mean?’ I said, looking at him, seeing him thinking about this. ‘You see, you have a big, big brain. They only have little brains. So they don’t understand what you are talking about. So, pretend you don’t know lots of things, and ask them to help you sometimes!’
‘Do you think that would work?’
‘It would make them think they are like you. They’ve got a big brain, too. So if they feel important, they might think you are great! Whadaye think, Ollie?’
‘Hmm!’ he said, rattling his head, trying to work this one out! ‘Do you mean I have to stop interrupting people and telling them they are wrong? And they won’t fight with me because I keep quiet?’
‘Yeah! Yeah! Let them figure it out for themselves! You just play with them. Bring in the conkers. Then another day you can bring in a football.’
‘I don’t like football,’ he said.
‘Oh, right! Well, what about a yo-yo? Bring in a couple of yo-yos.’
‘Yes! I’ll ask Mummy to buy yo-yos for me and my new friends!’
‘Great! And I’m going to be taking you to school and collecting you at lunchtime. So, if you’re not happy about the way things went, you can tell me then, and I will sort it out for ye! What do you think? Is that a good idea?’
He shook his head up and down, agreeing. But still thinking hard about this, saying nothing, and just put out his hand for me to take, and we set off for home. Both of us lost in our own thoughts. Me thinking how I’m going to get past that dog, with the fear of God in me at the thought, and him thinking how he was going to get around this business of making a friend.