‘There you go, mam. Thirteen shillings and sevenpence half-penny change.’ I watched the woman count her change and put it carefully into her purse, looking to see what she had left.

‘That’s grand,’ she said, shutting the purse and putting it at the bottom of her shopping bag.

‘Here’s your bread and milk,’ I said, holding the two bottles of milk while she fixed the bread and tea in the bag.

‘Bye now,’ she said, waving to me.

‘Thanks, and a very happy Christmas,’ I said, smiling at her.

‘And a very happy Christmas to you too, love,’ she said, making for the door. Molly whipped it wide open, shaking the door, impatient to close it, then slammed it shut after letting the woman out.

‘That’s the last of them,’ Molly sighed.

‘Right,’ the grey-haired man said, flying around the shop switching off all the lights, letting the Christmas lights in the window go off. Then rushing out the door to slam down the shutters on the two big plate-glass windows and slam the shutter down in front of the door on the outside. Then he locked the front door as Molly whipped past me shouting, ‘Don’t go near that bathroom. I’m having a bath now. I need to run for that train leaving Heuston station at ten past four.’

‘Right so, Molly. I won’t bother. See you after Christmas.’

‘Yes! Wednesday we open again. So just you make sure you are back here on Tuesday night. You are on the early morning shift.’

‘OK. See you. Have a lovely Christmas!’

‘Yes, you too,’ she said, flying up the stairs.

‘Happy Christmas, Mister O’Brien!’ I shouted to the grey-haired man checking to see if everything was turned off.

‘Oh, yes. Happy Christmas to you too,’ he said, looking miles away, not really taking much notice.

I was up the stairs and into the room, making for me green coat and handbag. Molly was already gone down to the bathroom. That was quick. She really is in a hurry. I could see her big brown battered old suitcase standing next to the bed, with her purple wool coat folded on top of her black old handbag sitting on the bed waiting for her. Then I spotted the string nylon shopping bag thrown in the corner. Great! Just what the doctor ordered. I need that for me shopping today. I’ll just borrow it.

I grabbed it up, rushing to get me coat and handbag, taking out the little brown envelope with the big green one-pound note, and the red ten-shilling note, all new and shiny. Right, I’ll take it all into town with me. I might as well spend the lot. After all, tomorrow is Christmas Day. It’s the one day of the year I should be good to meself. I can start saving again after Christmas. You always need money in your pocket, you never know the hour or the day when I could really need it. I don’t want to find meself suddenly out of a job and without a penny in me pocket. Jaysus! That would never do. I could end up walking the streets just like me and the ma. I shivered even at the thought of it. No, I’m never going to let meself get into that position. At the mercy of the world. I will always make sure I have another job to go to before I leave what I’m doing.

I combed me hair, putting on me coat, and picked up me bag, checking to make sure I had the hall door key to let meself in. Grand. It’s there. Right! Better hurry and catch the bus into town. The shops are going to be crowded.

I opened the door as Molly came flying down the hall. ‘Are you off, then, for the Christmas?’

‘Yeah!’ I said, trying to rush past her. Not wanting her to know I would be staying here, and have to start answering awkward questions. I’m telling no one my business. Who I am, and where I come from is no one’s business, I huffed to meself, taking off down the stairs.

I got off the bus in o’Connell Street and turned right, crossing the road, flying under buses and cars, with people and traffic nearly running into each other. Everyone was in a hurry. Rushing to get the last-minute bit of shopping. I turned right, heading up Henry Street. Seeing all the Christmas lights streaming through the air. With Santa on his sledge and his reindeers flying out behind him, hanging from the tops of the buildings strung out across the street. The noise was deafening. People were crushing each other to get up and down and sideways, in and out of the shops. I pushed me way into the centre of the road, discovering it made no difference. Everyone had the same idea.

‘Get yer Cheeky Charlies,’ I could hear the Moore Street aul ones shouting. Now they were along this street for the Christmas. With their stalls lining the edge of the footpaths, catching all the people crushing past. They wouldn’t take no for an answer.

I made me way onto the footpath, hoping to make it up to Woolworths. ‘Here, love. Take one a dem for the Christmas. Yeh’ll get hours a enjoyment outa it. Lookit! Take it!’ an aul one with grey curly thin hair sticking out of the scarf on her head roared at me, her tired, faded old blue eyes boring into me, as she danced the grinning monkey up and down on the string, then shoved it in me face.

‘Ah, no, missus! Thanks, I don’t want it,’ I laughed, trying to push past her.

‘No, wait! Come back,’ she said, grabbing the sleeve of me coat. ‘Lookit! Yeh can give it as a present to yer sisters and brothers. Mebbe yeh might even play with it yerself. It’s not too long since yeh used teh play yerself. Go on! It’s only a half a crown, love. Lookit! I have only a few left,’ she said, waving at her stall. ‘Or lookit! What about a few decorations? Yer mammy would love dem! The best quality ones they are. Here, come back!’

‘No, sorry.’ I shook me head, pulling away from her. Feeling sorry as I pushed me way up the street. Poor woman is desperate to make a few pounds. But that’s no good to me. I never played with toys in me life, and I can’t give it to anyone. I don’t know many people these days. I haven’t made any friends yet. Just the customers who come in and out of the shop. But I don’t really know them.

I couldn’t get in near the door of Woolworths. I stopped to look in, seeing the mad crush of people all milling around, pushing and shoving each other. Ah, I won’t bother meself going in there. It’s only a waste of time. Sure I won’t be able to get near the counters.

I turned away, moving slowly through the crowd, making me way back out onto the road, and looked up at the Woolworths café overhead. I could see people sitting at the tables, looking out through the big glass windows enjoying themselves, eating and watching the crowds going past. I used to do that, I thought. Looking up at them. That was me greatest enjoyment after the terrible fear of going around robbing in the shops all day. Then when it was over, sit there at the window enjoying me chips and eggs and beans and bread and butter, with the pot of tea. Feeling an infinite sense of peace that it was all over and I had the money in me pocket, and the food in me bag, and I was safe for another week. It might be nice to go up now and have something to eat, and watch the crowds. But somehow, I don’t think it would feel right. It would remind me too much of them days. No, I’ll keep moving. That part of me life is now dead and gone. Thanks be to God.

I made me way down Moore Street. ‘Sixpence the Christmas pineapples. Do yeh want some, love? Lookit! They’re only massive. Here! Feel one,’ she said, humping it up and down in her hand, making to land it in my hand. I kept me hands in me pockets, and smiled at her, moving on.

‘Here, missus,’ she said to an aul one trying to make her way past me. ‘Take one a these home for the Christmas. Go on! Try one out for after the dinner. They are ony gorgeous! I’m tellin yeh, missus. Yeh won’t be able teh get enough a dem. Here! Have ony the one then. Tha won’t break yeh!’ she roared. Her face curling up in disgust at the aul one, who pushed past her, saying, ‘Excuse me, please. I am in a hurry,’ speaking in a very grand voice.

‘Jaysus!’ the dealer roared after her, standing with the pineapple in one hand and the other hand on her hip, with her feet planted, going in different directions. ‘If anyone needs a pineapple, it’s you, missus! It might take tha sour, hungry, dyin-lookin look offa yer face. Yeh should start spendin tha confirmation money yeh made all a dem years ago. Yeh can’t take it wit yeh!’ she snorted, taking her vengeance out on the aul one rushing past me, looking mortified. I roared laughing, looking back at the dealer. ‘Them aul ones wouldn’t give yeh the steam offa their piss,’ she snorted. ‘Bleedin fur coat an no drawers,’ she moaned. Looking down mournfully at all the pineapples still left sitting on her stall. Then throwing her head at me and anyone else listening. ‘Go on, you!’ She waved her arm at me in disgust, not liking me laughing. ‘Don’t spend yer money all in the one shop,’ she said, starting to get even more annoyed with me.

Jaysus! Them aul ones would kill yeh if you crossed them, I thought, laughing and pushing me way through the crowds. They really know how to make a show of you.

‘LAST OF THE TURKEYS! GET YER FRESH TURKEYS! Come in an lookit dem. Only beauriful, they are. They’re so fresh they’ll eat yeh alive!’ a small skinny little aul fella wearing a bloodspattered white apron down to his ankles was shouting through a megaphone into the faces of all the people going past the butcher shop.

‘Are they very fresh?’ a little aul one stopped to ask him, carrying a shopping bag so full with the Christmas shopping her head was nearly tipping the ground with the weight of it.

‘ARE THEY FRESH?’ he roared through the megaphone, letting the whole street know, and pointing it at her, blasting the ear offa her, making her jump back with the shock. ‘Missus,’ he roared, ‘they’re so fresh they haven’t had the time to know they’re dead yet! Sure weren’t they ony eatin their breakfast this morning. Not knowin they were goin teh be sittin on your plate tomorra!’

‘Gawd! I’ll go in an take a look,’ she said happily after looking at them all crowded on top of each other, sitting in the window with their eyes sticking outa their heads. Looking like they still couldn’t get over their misfortune at having gotten themself killed. I looked in to see what else they had. I stared at sheeps’ heads. Ugh! Jaysus! That would turn your stomach.

I moseyed on, wandering with the crowd, getting meself carried to the other side of the street. I stopped to look in the window at the pork and bacon shop next to the laneway. I stared at the big hams and black-looking spiced beef, and corn beef, with nicelooking sausages and all sorts of different kinds of rashers. I could see the shop was crowded. I wonder what I’ll get for meself to eat over the Christmas? Right, I better get something in here. It’s as good as any, all the shops are full anyway.

I shuffled me way in, following behind an aul granny with a shopping bag wrapped around her arm. The scarf was getting pulled off her head and we were getting battered by the people trying to get out. ‘Take it easy, will youse! For the luv a Jaysus. They’re not givin the stuff away for free!’ she huffed, looking back at me. As if I was the one pulling the scarf off her head.

‘Yer right there, missus,’ I said, muttering behind her.

She lost the rag and thumped an aul fella falling backwards and standing on her feet. ‘Me corns! Mind where yer fuckin goin! The lot a yehs!’ she roared, pulling the scarf tight around her head, working her chin up and down. Then pushing her hands out in front of her to keep people moving, and stop them knocking her down.

We got in as far as the door, and she pushed her way through, making for the counter. ‘Outa the way, the lot a yehs!’ she roared, pushing and shoving everyone. ‘I lost me place in the queue wit yehs pushin me back. Have youse no respect for the likes a me? Old an crippled, I am!’ People moved slightly to look back to see who was doing all the shouting and roaring and hitting. ‘Here! Let me in!’ she shouted as soon as someone made a little gap, looking at her.

Then she was up to the counter with me behind her, pretending I was with her by shaking me head and puffing out me cheeks and raising me eyes to heaven, muttering, ‘The granny is a terrible woman. She has no patience.’

One aul fella looked back at me and blocked me, saying, ‘Well, youse can wait yer turn. Yer not gettin yerselves in front a me!’

‘Here, you! I was standin here before you turned up! Ger outa me way or I’ll swing for yeh!’ Then she gave him a dig. Pushing out her bony elbows and squeezing past him.

‘Are yeh all right, Granny?’ I said, squeezing after her.

‘No thanks teh him, I am!’ she said, fixing the scarf on her little head and tying it under her chin. Giving the aul fella such a dirty look it was enough to stop a clock. ‘What have they got?’ she said, trying to stretch her neck to see over the counter to the shelves behind the far wall. Seeing long strings of sausages, black and white pudding, cooked ham, and trays of eggs, then looking up at the ducks and chickens and turkeys and hams hanging outa the big hooks coming outa the big beams. ‘I ony want something small,’ she said. ‘Just to do me teh get by for the Christmas.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ I muttered, wondering what I was going to get. I can’t cook yet. I’m only starting to learn.

‘Listen, son! I’m next. Have yeh any nice chickens? I don’t want antin toooo big! Just enough for meself,’ she said, smiling at him, showing the one rotten tooth she still had left in her head.

‘Here’s a nice little one,’ he said, holding it by the legs and showing her, with the head and feathers still stuck to it.

‘Here, get rid a tha head first! Are yeh chargin me be the weight?’

‘Well, this one is three and six, but you can have it for two and six. Me Christmas box to you! How’s tha?’ he smiled, showing dimples in his cheeks and a lovely set of white teeth.

‘Yeah, tha will do me lovely,’ she said happily. ‘But take tha bleedin head off first. I don’t want teh be wakin up with the nightmares after lookin at tha thing!’

‘Now. Anythin else?’ he said, wrapping the chicken and landing it down on the counter.

‘Yeah, give us a half-pound a dem Hafner’s sausages, and a bit a black an white puddin. Make sure yeh put plenty a seasonin on dem! I’ll be watchin teh see wha yer doin,’ she warned him. He laughed, grabbing the sausages and cutting a bit of black and white pudding and lashing on the seasoning from the metal canister. ‘Yeah! I’ll take a dozen a dem big eggs there, an make sure yeh seal dem tight. I don’t want no one breakin dem on me, before I can get dem home!’ He slapped on an empty egg carton on top of the eggs then covered them all the way around, sealing them with the Sellotape. Putting the eggs now nicely packed on top of the counter.

‘Leave it at five shilling,’ he said, watching her rooting in her purse and coming up with two half crowns, landing them on the counter. Then she happily put everything in her bag, sticking out her elbows to make sure no one nudged her and ended up breaking the eggs before she could get them in her big cloth shopping bag.

‘Goodbye now! An a happy Christmas to yeh. Hope yeh have a bit a luck for givin me dem few things,’ she said, using her elbows to make her way out of the shop again.

‘Give us a half-pound a Hafner’s sausages!’ I roared up, before he could finish saying ‘Right, who’s next?’, looking down the line at the crowd of people all pushing and shoving, squeezing and suffocating us at the counter.

‘Here, I’m next!’ the aul fella with the red face shouted as the young fella asked me what else I wanted.

‘I’m goin teh get to you next,’ he said to the aul fella roaring in me ear behind me.

‘Tha one! An tha aul hag just gone out the door skipped the queue!’ he roared. Pointing his finger in the air, then jabbing it in me, stabbing me in the back. ‘Yeah! Scandalous, it is. An we all takin our place in the queue, an that’s the thanks we get for it! He’s servin them tha has no respect for anyone. Just walk in, if yeh please. An get yerself served straight away!’

All the mutterings came from behind me, and everyone started roaring, giving out like mad. I couldn’t think fast enough what I wanted. So I copied the old woman. ‘Give us a bit of white pudding and a quarter of streaky rashers, and two nice big pork chops,’ I gasped, in an awful hurry before I ended up getting eaten alive and thrown out of the shop on me arse. ‘And don’t forget the seasoning. I want plenty of seasoning,’ I said, copying the aul one just gone out the door.

The young fella wrapped them in white paper and slapped them down on the counter. ‘Anythin else?’ he grinned at me. Knowing I was in trouble for skipping the queue.

‘Yeah, I’ll take a dozen of them eggs there. The big ones,’ I said, pointing at the trays of eggs.

‘Four shillings and ninepence to you,’ he said, grinning at me.

‘Make it four shillings,’ I laughed, ‘and I’ll light a penny candle for yeh!’

‘If yeh promise to come in again,’ he said, ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

‘Get a fuckin move on there!’ roared the aul fella, giving me a smack on the back of me head. ‘We haven’t all day!’ he roared into me ear.

‘Yeh aul—’ I started to roar, whipping meself around.

‘Give us the half crown. And what else have you there?’ the young fella said quickly, seeing me with the half crown and the shilling in me hand after I stopped rooting in me purse for the rest, because I was going to give the aul fella behind me an earful. ‘Here!’ he said, grabbing me hand and taking the half crown and the shilling. ‘That will do.’

‘Right! That’s lovely,’ I said happily, delighted with me bargains. Then putting the eggs in me string bag along with the rest of me stuff and holding it in front, making me way out through the crowd, saying, ‘Go easy! Let me out. Don’t break me eggs.’

‘The curse a Jaysus on yeh!’ the aul fella snorted, giving me another dig on the shoulder, with his face turning blue at the sight of me after getting me shopping, and half of it for nothing, while he still had to wait. I just grinned, knowing he was annoyed enough with me, and pushed and fought me way over to the grocery part of the shop, hanging onto me eggs.

Jaysus! This is no good. Me eggs will be smashed. I spotted empty carton boxes lying against the wall next to the counter where the girl was going mad trying to keep up with the paying customers. I reached in and grabbed a big one, mooching meself closer to the chair she was sitting on. Smiling up at her as she wondered what I was up to. ‘I’m just putting these things in the empty box,’ I said, scraping her nylon stockings with me hand getting pushed against her.

I put the bag sitting in the box and used it as a battering ram to work me way around the shop. I put two bottles of milk into the box then headed down for a pound of good butter and a box of cheese. What else? I spotted the biscuits and put in a packet of me favourites, Kimberley. Then I went mad and put in a box of Dairy Milk chocolates. Lovely! That’s the lot. I made me way down to the queue, thinking I could easily make me way out the door now without paying. But I have no intention of doing that. Me self-respect is worth more then the few pennies I would save. You can’t put a price on self-respect.

I felt really happy with meself standing in the queue waiting patiently to pay. Feeling I was really free at last. ‘Two shillings and elevenpence,’ the young one said.

‘Oh, you might as well give me twenty Major cigarettes while you’re at it,’ I said, pointing up to the shelf behind her. ‘Make it two packets of ten,’ I said, wanting to make them stretch. I handed over the money and made me way back out into the crowds. It was even worse now. It was beginning to get dark and the people were getting desperate to get their last-minute shopping. I battered me way down Moore Street, keeping the box out in front of me, pushing me way through the crowds. I stopped to look at tomatoes sitting on a stall. ‘Sixpence a pound’ the sign said.

‘Do yeh want dem tomatoes, love?’ an aul one said, diving on me and whipping open a brown paper bag ready to grab a pound of tomatoes for me.

‘Only if yeh give me the ones at the front,’ I said, staring at her.

‘Here, they’re all lovely,’ she said, grabbing the rotten ones she had hidden at the back. They always do that. Get rid of the rotten stuff first.

‘No, the ones from the front. I’m payin yeh good money,’ I said, wanting her to know I was no dopey posh young one.

‘Here, keep yer money,’ she roared at me, grabbing me arm and pushing me down the road. ‘Bleedin young ones! No respect for man nor beast. Some of dem have no rearin in dem. Their aul ones just dragged them up!’ she shouted after me.

‘Go on!’ I shouted. ‘Yeh should have respect for yer betters!’ I roared back at her. Knowing she would go mad at the thought of someone looking down on her.

‘Yeh won’t be sayin tha if I catch hold a yeh!’ she roared, waving her fist at me. ‘I’ll soon put manners on yeh!’

‘Ah, yer all hot air,’ I laughed, sticking me tongue out at her, and crossing me eyes. Then I laughed, feeling a bit mean for tormenting the poor aul woman. Still and all, I’m not paying good money for just rotten tomatoes!

I stopped outside the bread shop, seeing the loads of blackcrusted loaves of bread and fresh turnover all piled in the window. Right, I’ll get some of that lovely fresh bread to go with me good butter. I made me way into the shop, standing in a big queue, miles a bodies well away from the counter. Every time someone pushed out, the crowd milled in. I held the box in front of me, shouting, ‘Let me in!’ and forcing people to part away from each other, slowly getting me way to the counter.

‘Give us a black crusty loaf, and a fresh turnover. Make sure it’s very fresh,’ I said to the aul one serving me.

‘It’s all fresh,’ she snorted, breaking two loaves stuck together, and doing the same with the turnover, and putting them in a paper bag, then slamming them down on the counter, thinking I had a cheek. ‘One shilling and sixpence,’ she said, holding out her hand for the money. I landed the box up on the counter, whipping me purse out of me pocket, and handing over the money. Then I was out the door again.

I stopped further down to look at a stall with only a few tomatoes left. They look nice and hard, I thought. ‘Give us a pound of yer good tomatoes,’ I said, watching her grab the paper bag and feel and manhandle them, throwing back the hard ones and looking for the soft ones. ‘Have a heart! It’s Christmas. Give us the nice ones, missus!’ I said, thinking I’m going to end up with a load of squashed tomatoes if she keeps this up.

‘Go on then,’ she said, landing the tomatoes back on the stall and picking up the nice hard ones.

‘Thanks very much, missus,’ I said, delighted with her being generous as much as getting the good tomatoes.

‘Do yeh want antin else, love?’ she said, holding out her hand for the sixpence.

‘Yeah, give us a nice bunch of bananas.’

‘Righ! That’s ten pence,’ she said, landing the bananas in me box.

I walked on to the end of Moore Street, then turned right, heading past the Rotunda Hospital. I could see men flying in and out, some had teddies and bunches of flowers. Ah, the maternity hospital. Imagine having a baby today! Or even better still, tonight. A baby born on Christmas Day. Still and all. Them mothers will be delighted to have it over them for the Christmas, and can go home carrying their new baby. I hope that’s a nice present for all of them, I thought. Thinking of the poor women who had too many children, and the last thing they needed was another one.

Ah, well. Some poor people never get it easy in this life, I thought. Then the picture of the ma came flashing into me mind. I stopped dead in me tracks, thinking of the ma and the poor children. I could feel meself sinking down straight away. Just seeing the picture of them all. No, don’t! It’s not your business any more. She will only drag you down. Nothing was ever enough for her. That’s the way she is. Forget it. But it’s Christmas! They’ll have nothing, I thought, feeling the pain come over me at the thought I was only thinking of meself. Don’t be bleedin stupid! I’ve spent me whole life trying to help the ma, and look where it got me! Locked up for three years, and all she could worry about was when she could get her hands on me, to start milking me again. Then I’d start getting meself into trouble all over again. Anyway, as long as she stays with that aul fella . . . well, I’m never having anything to do with her. You promised yourself in the convent, Martha, you were never going to look back. It’s all over. Now I have to make a life for meself. You are going to have a grand life. You have given her enough. Yeah, I have. Enough is enough. I am going to make something of me life, I said to meself. Desperate not to look back. God knows where that might take me, I thought, getting pushed sideways by the crowd, and starting to move again, making me way down, heading over to Parnell Street.

I stopped and went into a hardware shop, asking the aul fella behind the counter, ‘How much are yeh charging for a hot-water bottle?’

‘Here’s one for a shilling,’ he said, landing a hot-water bottle on the counter.

‘Have yeh anything cheaper?’ I asked him, watching him dozily twirling his whiskers.

‘No! Do yeh want it or not?’ he said, getting ready to whip it away.

‘Yeah! It’s too late to go looking in Woolworths,’ I said. ‘Pity! I would have gotten it cheaper there.’

‘Yeah, an if I had Mister Woolworths’ money, yeh could buy it cheap from me, too,’ he said, sticking out his hand for the shilling. ‘Furthermore, I wouldn’t have teh be listenin teh the likes a you complainin about me prices.’

‘Jaysus, mister!’ I said slowly, getting annoyed meself. ‘Don’t take yer vengeance out on me. It’s too bad yer not knocked down with the rush of people wanting to buy yer stuff,’ I said, looking around the empty shop. ‘It’s not my fault yer place is as dead as the morgue! Maybe if yeh lowered your prices a bit, people might think of coming in. Christmas, how are yeh! This is supposed to be the season of goodwill!’ I snorted, slamming down the shilling and grabbing up me hot-water bottle and putting it in me box. Now brimming over with me shopping.

‘Yes! And a happy Christmas to you, too!’ he said, shouting at me back.

‘Yeah! Don’t choke on yer turkey,’ I said, making me way out the door.

I walked on, standing at the traffic lights to try and get across O’Connell Street. I looked up and down, seeing no gap in the traffic. ‘No! Wait, yeh gobshite. You’ll get yourself killed,’ I muttered to meself, not used to waiting at traffic lights to get across the road. The box was too heavy and I could hardly see over it. But it was grand and handy for getting me through the crowded streets.

Finally here. I made me way into the second-hand bookshop, smelling paraffin oil smouldering out from the wreck of an aul heater, standing upright on four legs. ‘Hello!’ I said, smiling at the old man sitting on a stool behind the counter, warming his hands wrapped in grey wool gloves with the fingers cut out. He had a soft battered old hat sitting on his head and a scarf wrapped around his neck, to keep out the damp. ‘Mister, can I leave this box behind yer counter while I have a look around at the books?’

‘Yeah, go ahead, love. Feel free to see if there’s antin yeh want. Go on! Put it under the counter. It will be safe there. I’ll mind it fer yeh!’

‘Thanks.’ I bent down, pushing the box under the counter, and rambled around the little book shop, throwing me eye at all the shelves stacked with piles of books. I wandered up and down, seeing some that might interest me, but hoping for something that would make me mad to read it. John Steinbeck. Of Mice And Men. I read the back, and flicked through the pages, not wanting to read it and spoil the story. Just to get an idea of what the book was like. Yeah! That looks good. I’ll take that.

I wandered on, taking me time, looking at anything that caught me eye. Then I picked up one that said Harold Robbins, The Carpet Baggers. Yeah! That sounds good. I’ll read that.

Right! I let out a big sigh of contentment, and headed off down to the old man at the counter. ‘How much do you want for these two books, mister?’ I said, putting them on the counter. He looked at the price on the back. It said three shillings and sixpence to buy new.

‘Give us half a crown for the two,’ he said.

‘Make it a shilling each! And I’ll sell them back to you at half that. Then buy some more from yeh, if yeh go easy on the price,’ I said, reaching for me purse.

‘OK, fair enough. Give us the two shilling,’ he said, taking the money out of me hand and putting it in his pocket, looking very happy.

‘What time will yeh be closing at? It’s a bit cold for you to be sitting in the draught coming in from that door,’ I said, looking at his watery red eyes and his nose streaming. He took out a dirty aul white hankerchief and wiped his nose.

‘Ah, maybe I’ll get a few more customers in like yerself,’ he said, looking hopefully at the door.

‘Yeah, well, have a nice Christmas for yourself. Will you be having your family come to see you?’

‘No, the poor wife is long dead this ten year. God rest her. But I’ll be all right. I’m going to take the bus out to Cabra and stay with the sister. She has a big crowd of them all piling in on top of her. Her daughters are very good to her. So I’ll be grand there.’

‘Have you no children of your own?’

‘Oh, indeed I do, daughter! I have seven of them. Four boys and three girls. Now they are all away. Living in Birmingham and Manchester and London. All over the place, they are. But they have families of their own now. They couldn’t be making it home just to see me! I wouldn’t want them to anyway. I have me own way of doin things. And I don’t want to be bothering anyone. As long as I can keep moving, I don’t care. Mind you, havin said tha, I do have trouble wit me aul hands. The arthritis does be crippling me. That’s why I wear the aul gloves,’ he said, lifting up his hands, showing them to me.

‘Ah, God help yeh. Old age is an awful curse! It’s without mercy,’ I said, seeing the swelling of his knuckles through the gloves. ‘Well, it was lovely talking to you. I better make a move, it’s beginning to get late,’ I said. Looking out at the darkness coming down fast. I reached in under the counter to take up me box and put me books in, lifting the box into me arms, and made me way out the door, hearing the bell ring overhead, letting the man know when customers were coming into the shop. ‘Goodbye now. Look after yourself, and a very happy Christmas to you,’ I said, making me way happily out the door.

‘And a very happy Christmas to you, too,’ he said, holding the door and gently shutting it behind me, making it ring again.

I wandered out into the dark streets, seeing the Christmas lights glittering in the dark night, with the rain drizzling down. The air was alive with the excitement of people rushing for buses to take them home, and others making a mad dash to reach the shops before they closed for the Christmas. I waited at the traffic lights again, wanting to get back on the other side of o’Connell Street to get the bus back to Drumcondra. I made it across and wandered down, looking at the big cars stopping outside the Gresham Hotel. I stared over at the very glamorous-looking women, all made up with their hair shiny and piled up in curls. They had themselves wrapped in fur coats, with long frocks trailing underneath. I watched with me eyes hanging out of me head as they tottered on big high heels, holding onto the arms of men in long expensive overcoats rushing into the hotel for their dinner. one gorgeous woman swung her legs out of a big Rolls-Royce, then put out her hand, waiting for the man to take her arm and help her up while the doorman wearing a uniform held the car door open for her. She stood up, taking the man’s arm held out for her, and swept towards the hotel with a long brown fur coat rushing out behind her. Wearing her honey-coloured-looking hair pinned at the back of her head, with the top coming back in waves. I watched her, with me eyes hanging out of me head on stalks. She swept herself up the steps like she owned the place and marched into the hotel with her head held in the air.

Mother a Christ! That takes more than money! I bet her face isn’t even that good-looking close up! But she acts with the greatest of ease, like she is the most important person in the whole world, and nobody is more beautiful then her. Hmm! How do you get to be like that? I wonder what it must be like to be one of them. Imagine going in there all dressed up to the nines. With loads of money in your pocket, and not have to worry about the prices! No! That’s a long long way from where I am now. But one day I will be able to do that. There’s only one way to go in this world when you are at the bottom. Start climbing right to the top. Yeah! There’s nothing to stop me. I will get there some day!

I put me box down on the ground at the queue waiting for the bus and looked behind me at the film showing in the Carlton picture house. Alfred Hitchcock. The Birds. People were standing in a queue waiting to go in. I wonder if I should go in now and see it? I’m not going anywhere in a hurry, and I can please meself!

I couldn’t make up me mind. I stood at the bus stop, looking around at all the people rushing in all directions. Mothers hurried past, carrying big shopping bags with food bursting out. The husbands carrying big boxes wrapped up in brown paper. one man carried a child’s two-wheeler bike, with ribbons hanging off the handlebars and a silver bell. He carried a big box under his other arm in a Clerys bag. The box stuck out at the top, showing the face of a big doll with long fair hair with a red ribbon tied in a bow. I stared at it. The doll was standing upright behind the see-through plastic cover.

‘Come on, hurry. We might yet catch that bus,’ the woman puffed, looking at the man and trying to run with the heavy bags.

‘Here! You take this,’ he said, stopping to take one of the heavy bags off her and handing her the long narrow box with the doll. They swapped over and took off again, rushing to get the bus coming to a stop further down. Everyone seemed to have someone with them. Even the ones rushing somewhere seemed to have a purpose. Except the very old. I watched an old woman walk past slowly, taking her time, carrying her few messages with a far-away, distant look in her tired old face.

I suddenly felt a bit lost. I could feel me heart sinking. Everyone seems to have someone. Maybe it’s not such a good idea to go back to the room just yet. I could stay in town a bit longer, keep with the crowds. I looked around, seeing the cars and buses and vans flying past, puffing out blue smoke, stopping and starting in a mad rush, blowing their horns at each other, and the twinkling of the Christmas lights, making it feel like I was a part of something magic. I might meet someone nice, have a chat, pass away a bit of time. Then I wouldn’t feel so left out. I could go down to Caffola’s Café and have a cup of coffee made on milk. I could sit there and watch the crowds coming and going. once I’m back there in the room, it will be very quiet. Pity I don’t have a little transistor radio. That would be great company. But they are too expensive. I’m sure one of them would set me back about ten shillings. No, forget that.

Ah, bloody hell! Make up your mind, Martha. Will I go in and see the film or not? I love chillers. Alfred Hitchcock is great. But on the other hand it might frighten the life out of me, now that I’ll be in the place on me own. I might start getting all sort of mad ideas, like someone trying to break in! Jaysus! I think I’m just tired. Maybe I should keep moving. Anyway, this box is too heavy and awkward to be dragging around the town. On top of that, it’s getting very dark and late. Maybe I should get the bus and go back. I was in great form earlier. Yeah! I have me books to read. No bleedin Molly watching me every move, screaming at me night and day. Yeah! It’s grand. I’ll have the time of me life. Eating, sleeping, reading me books, and no one to bother me. What more could I want? Right! I can always go to the pictures another day. I’ll go back, and take it easy. Get meself sorted. I can even have a nice warm bath and get into bed with me new hot-water bottle and have something lovely to eat. Yeah! That’s what I’ll do. I’ll get the bus back. I’ll be grand. Happy Christmas to me! Happy Christmas to me! ‘I’m go . . . ing to ha . . . ve a lovely! lovely time!’ I sang to meself, happily waiting for the bus to come.

The bus heaved in, coming slowly to a stop. I could see it was chopper blocked. People were standing, holding onto the bars. The queue moved up, with everyone tightening in behind each other’s backs. I picked up me box and checked to see I had me handbag on me arm. The queue waited to let people off, and the conductor leaned out off the platform with his arm outstretched, letting some of the people on. Then he barred the way of the rest, shouting, ‘That’s it! We’re full up! There’s another bus on the way.’

‘When will it get here, Conductor?’ a woman asked, standing at the top of the queue.

‘It’s about five minutes behind me.’ Then he banged hell out of the bell, hanging off the platform to make sure no one jumped on. The bus moved off slowly, rocking from side to side, threatening to overbalance with the weight it was carrying.

‘More like five hours!’ the woman at the top muttered to the crowd of us all staring after the bus. I would walk it easily, only for this heavy box, I thought to meself.

I looked over to see the crowd had started moving into the picture house. Girls and fellas laughed, the girls holding bags of sweets and some even had little boxes of chocolates. I have a box for meself for over the Christmas, to go with me books, I thought happily. Yeah! It will be nice to get in out of the cold.

I started to stamp me feet up and down, feeling the chill going up through me. A man standing in front of me rubbed his hands together, and started banging his feet on the ground. ‘Cold aul night,’ he said, looking past me to the woman behind.

‘Indeed it is. We’ll get our death a cold standing out here in this damp miserable aul night before we’re done!’ she said, wrinkling her mouth and turning her nose up in disgust, then leaning off the footpath to throw her head down the road, looking for any sign of the bus coming.

‘Ah, I intend milling in to the aul drop a whiskey when I get home,’ he said. Rubbing his hands faster together, smiling, and grinning from ear to ear at the lovely thought hitting him.

‘Jaysus!’ she said, shaking her head from side to side at him. Looking like she was going to start crying any minute. ‘I can’t wait to get in the door and boil the teapot for a hot sup a tea, and get me feet up for a few minutes. Dem shops was black with people today. I should have had more sense then to go into town, today of all days. Jaysus Christ almighty! The crush was something terrible!’

‘Ah, don’t talk,’ he said, like he had something even better to say. ‘I’m just knocking off work now. The missus will be going ninety to the dozen giving out when I get in the door. Complaining about gettin knocked senseless. Sure she had to do the same thing. Rush into town this morning to get a few last-minute things,’ he said, thinking about it.

‘Yeah, the whole world and his wife was in dem shops today,’ the woman sighed, the energy going out of her face, feeling tired now it was over. We all stood in silence, waiting and stretching our necks down the long street, hoping every bus coming was ours.

‘No, not stopping!’ people would say. Staring like mad after a bus flashing past us, with passengers hanging out of it. ‘Too full to take us.’

The bus was finally coming. Everyone moved up, staring to see if there was room. I looked behind me, seeing a long queue of people stretching far behind, nearly going to the next bus stop. I held me box in front. ‘The first six people!’ the conductor roared, hanging off the bus with his arms wrapped around the pole showing six fingers. People made a dive, and I held me ground.

The woman up front was pushed sideways. ‘Here! Stop pushing. I’m first!’ she screamed.

‘Everyone back!’ the conductor shouted, putting out his hand to stop people skipping. ‘Let that woman on. Who’s next?’ He stood on the side of one entrance, watching people carefully, doing a head count. I was the fourth and jumped up, pushing me box forward to get me going. ‘That’s it! No more room!’ the conductor roared, racing to bang the bell and keeping his eye on the people trying to jump on. ‘Off! No more!’ he shouted, pushing the people off trying to lift their leg onto the moving bus. ‘Move up along the bus!’ he shouted. ‘Come on! Move up there.’ He was pushing people behind me and they were pushing me. I held me box out in front of me, and it was getting crushed into me chest. Jaysus! Pity I can’t put this thing down.

I held on, with the bus waving from side to side with the weight it was carrying. Then I was landed into the lap of a big fat woman wearing a long see-through plastic raincoat. I was still holding onto me box, and for a second it was lovely to get the weight of the box off me, and feel like I had a cushion under me, sitting on her soft lap. ‘Do you mind!’ she roared in a very grand voice. Pushing me up with her two hands outstretched. I heaved meself to a standing position, pushing the box out in front of me, then trying to plant me feet, with the bus waving from side to side. A man standing in front of me was leaning over a seat, hanging onto the bar, and I rested the box on his back. He kept looking back at me with a glare on his face, and trying to move away from me. But there was nowhere for him to go, and he had to put up with it.

The bus was finally picking up speed as we left Dorset Street, and I tensed meself, watching out for my stop. I could now see it coming up ahead, and tried to move with the crush of people behind me. ‘Excuse me! I’m getting off!’ I shouted, wanting to make me way down to the platform before it was too late, and I would end up having to walk miles back again. People were hesitating, looking at me, then at each other. Everyone waiting for the next person to make the first move. They were afraid of losing their place on the bar. ‘Excuse me!’ I roared. ‘Conductor! Stop the bus! This is my stop coming up, I want to get off!’ I shouted. Straight into the ear of people standing next to me, trying to make meself heard by the conductor. Because I couldn’t see him. The people standing beside me moved away fast, not wanting to get another blast in their eardrums.

I pushed me way down the bus, using the box as a battering ram to get people to squeeze out of me way. Then I was off, standing on the footpath, breathing in the fresh air. ‘Oh! Am I delighted to get off that bus!’ I puffed, making me way up the road, seeing the shop in the distance was in pitch black. Great! I’m going to have the place to meself.

At last! Back again! I put the box on the ground and rooted in me bag for the key. Here we are. I put the key in the door, pushing it in, and landed the box on the stairs, reaching back to the wall and switching on the light. ‘OK!’ I muttered, wanting to break the silence of the place by hearing a voice. Even if it is me own. I slammed the door shut, then looked at the bolt. I better put that on, seeing as I’m in the place on me own.

I humped the box up the stairs, and stopped in the hall to work out where the light switch was. I flicked it on and the hall lit up. Showing the boxes stacked against the wall, nearly the length of the passage. I made straight for the kitchen, flicking the switch, and the room filled up with light. The silence hit me straight away, and I stopped breathing for a minute, taking in the deadquiet stillness. Jaysus! This place is like the dead house! And it’s bleedin freezing. There’s no heating, they have it switched off for the Christmas. Right! I can fix that.

I rushed over to the cooker and switched all the knobs on the electric hobs, watching to see if it would blow up with all the amount of power it was suddenly using. Feeling afraid of me life, because I’d be down the swanny with no way of cooking. Nothing happened. Grand. That should heat the place up in no time.

I emptied out the box, putting the rashers and sausages and chops in the fridge, along with the cheese and milk. Then I left the eggs and bread and pound of butter sitting on the worktop. Lovely. I filled the kettle, leaving it on the cooker to boil, and went down to the room, taking me books and chocolates with me. I switched on the light and pulled the curtains across. Then hung up me coat and put away me handbag and left Molly back her string bag, where I’d found it. Now for something to eat. What will I have?

I made me way back to the kitchen and the hobs were turning red. The heat hit me as soon as I walked into the room. Gawd! This is great. The kettle was boiled already, and I decided to fill me hot-water bottle to get me bed warming as quickly as I could. It’s freezing in that bedroom. Lovely! That’s better. I fixed the blankets over the hot-water bottle, seeing the little hump in the bed, and me heart lifted. Great! All me little comforts. I can eat meself stupid, then have a bath and dive into the lovely warm bed and read to me heart’s content. Yeah! That’s what I’m going to do! Eat sleep read, and do what I like for the next four days. Right! Now for the grub.

I flew down to the kitchen, enjoying the blast of heat as soon as I hit the room. What will I have? Chop? No, save that for tomorrow, and the next day. Rashers! Two! Better not burn them. I rooted around in the press, coming up with the frying pan, and looked for a bit of dripping. Borrow theirs. Where do they keep everything hidden? I looked in all the presses. Nothing! A mouldy packet of flour. They must have cleaned out everything for the Christmas. Butter will do. I lashed on a big knob and slapped on the rashers, then whipped them off again. Cook the sausages first. They take longest. Jaysus! I’m really coming on. I learned a few things watching the little granny and Clare doing the cooking. Yeh stab them first to stop them exploding, Clare said.

They were beginning to turn black very fast. The butter was making them black. Jaysus! They’re not turning out right! Wonder what’s wrong? I stared at them, seeing the smoke pouring out of the frying pan and the kitchen was beginning to fill with the smoke! I started to cough and me eyes were watering. Maybe I should turn down the heat. It’s on too full. I whipped the knob down to one and flew out of the kitchen, wanting a bit of air, and watching from the doorway the sausages turning black. Pity! Wonder how that happened? Then I flew in again, whipping the pan off the cooker. I stared at the two sausages, burned to a cinder! They’ll do. I’m not wasting good food.

I put on the two rashers and cut the tomatoes in half, putting the four halfs on the pan and kept turning them. I’m taking no chances this time. I watched them like a hawk. The rashers gave out a lovely smell and I whipped them off as soon as the fat was going crisp. Lovely! I put them beside the burned sausages and took off the pan. I put on another knob of butter and dropped in the two eggs, hoping for lovely white, and gorgeous soft yolks in the middle. They went black and greasy straight away. Never mind. Maybe it’s not a good idea to cook stuff in good butter!

I left them cooking away and put on the kettle to boil for the tea. Then started to cut me black-crusted loaf. Fuck! This knife is not sharp enough. It’s only for eating your dinner with. Then I spotted the sharp little knife sitting at the bottom of the cutlery drawer. I had a go with that, stabbing at the loaf and sawing away. Smashing! I cut two big thick slices. Then lathered on the good butter, making it inches thick. I looked at the golden-coloured butter spread across the soft white bread with the black crust, and me mouth watered and me belly rumbled. When I think of me days starving as a child, dreaming about this . . . Now I can eat as much as I want to me heart’s content! I still can’t believe I’m free as a bird. I can go me own way through life. Oh, this is lovely!

I slid the greasy, black, curled-at-the-edges eggs and overdone in the middle after the yolks burst onto the plate, and made the tea, putting two teaspoons into the pot, and poured on the boiled water. Then I left it on the hob for a minute to stew. That’s what Sister Mercy used to do in the convent. So, at least I can make tea. I sat down at the table and started to mill the grub. The sausages are not too bad. You can taste the charcoal a bit, but I’ve eaten worse.

Ah, that was lovely. Maybe just another slice of that bread! I took one more of the Kimberley biscuits, feeling stuffed. I’ve eaten six. I looked at the packet in me hand. Nearly half of them gone. That’s enough. I better spare them. I’m feeling tired now. Me face is red hot. Think I better go to bed.

Right! I looked around the kitchen, getting the smell of burned cooking, seeing the smoke was beginning to clear out the door. I’ll get these washed up and clean up the kitchen then have me bath and head off to bed. I gathered up all the dishes and put them in the sink, turning on the hot water. It’s stone cold! The water’s cold! What will I do? There must be something to turn on. Jaysus! I don’t know how you work these things. I never had anything like this with me ma. We never had hot water or anything electrical. Not even an iron to press the clothes. Because we didn’t even wash them! They spent years sitting in the bath, floating under the disgusting, smelly water, and every now and then Jackser would look at them and roar, ‘Missus! Yeh should get up off yer arse and wash this stuff!’

‘Ah, don’t be annoyin me wit yer washin!’ the ma used to mutter, looking at the wall, curling her fingers like mad through her hair, looking for lice.

I rushed into the bathroom, turning on the tap. Cold! No hot water here either! Ah, Jaysus! What do I do? Maybe there’s a switch. I looked around the old bathroom, seeing the copper pipes snaking along the edges of the wall, and stared into the dirty white enamel bath with all the brown stains and the white enamel chipped out, leaving the metal showing. There’s nothing here! Only the bath and the one chair for putting your stuff on. oh, there should be a box. I flew out to the hall, seeing it sitting up high on the wall, and rushed into the kitchen to get a chair, then flew back and planked the chair underneath. No! Wait! That’s dangerous! You shouldn’t be interfering with the electricity. Jackser always said that. Every time a fuse blew in the house he would stand up on the chair, looking at the meter, afraid of his life to touch it. ‘Sally! Eh, you! The Martha one,’ he would roar at me. ‘Listen teh me carefully. This is a very dangerous thing here,’ he would say, stabbing the air with his finger, pointing at the box, looking afraid of his life. ‘I can get blown up! I’m warnin yehs! If anythin happens teh me, don’t come near me. Or youse will go the same way! Run and get the sweepin brush and make sure not teh touch me. Push me away from the danger wit the brush, then call the ambulance! Do youse get tha?’ he would say. Looking at us with the fear of God on him, and a warning look to make sure we understood he was preparing to lose his life, and we better make sure we didn’t get ourselves kilt so that we could save him. We would stand looking up at him. Me prayin like mad he would get kilt stone dead.

The ma stood holding a candle up, eating like hell the inside of her lip. Blinking and getting impatient, saying, ‘Yes, yes! We heard yeh! Now will yeh ever get on wit it an get the fuckin light back on!’

‘I’m warnin yeh, missus!’ he would say, whipping his hand back an throwing a look at the ma. ‘If I get kilt, it will be on your head!’

‘I hear yeh! I hear yeh! Holy Jaysus Christ al-mighty! The fuckin carry on a him,’ she would mutter to the wall, afraid of her life to go near it herself. I would stand, watching up at him, holding me breath and keeping well back. Prayin like mad he would go up with an unmerciful explosion! Nothing ever happened! It’s hard to kill a bad thing. Now here I am about to do the same thing.

I stood up on the chair, staring at the black meter with the wheel flying around, and numbers underneath. Right, that’s the box showing how much electricity it’s using. Yeah! I got that. Now! All these big white fuses are for . . . to keep it going! But how do you get the water to heat? I looked at a big black switch. Wonder what that’s for? It has to do something. Could be to heat the water. Right! I put out me hand, afraid of me life to touch it. Aaaaah, here goes! I grabbed the switch, pulling it down, and the place plunged into darkness! HELP! MAMMY!

I leaped off the chair, crashing me hands against the wall, and groped me way down the hall screaming. Ohh, somebody save me! The place might blow up any minute. Wha did I do? I started shaking like mad, the sweat pouring out of me. Where’s the hall door key? Where’s the fucking key?

I felt me way along the wall, making me way into the bedroom and felt me way over to the window, opening the curtains to let in a bit of light. What will I do? I can’t stop shaking with the fright. I’m afraid of me life of electricity. I could see if the light is on here. Maybe it’s only the hall and the kitchen. I put me hand out for the switch. No, I could get electrocuted. No, fuck yeh! Get on wit it! I could hear Jackser’s voice in me head. I felt like a child again.

Switch the fuckin thing on, missus! I reached out me hand and flicked down the little switch. Nothing happened! Oh, sweet Jesus. What have I done? Calm yourself down. Where’s me cigarettes? I groped over to the wardrobe, rooting for me bag, taking out me packet of cigarettes and struck the match, seeing me hands shaking. I don’t even think I’m supposed to be in this place for the Christmas. I think that aul one Missus Murphy would go mad if she found out! I can’t let them know I have nowhere to go. No home to go to. They might get rid of me. Say I’m too much trouble. No, I have to work this out meself. Sit down and have a cigarette. The place is not going to go up in fire!

Right! That must have been the switch to turn off the electricity. That’s all. Nothing more and nothing less. So all you have to do is switch it back on again. Right! I’ll do that when I’ve finished me cigarette.

I made me way into the kitchen and put the cigarettes sitting on the table. I’m going to have another smoke and a cup of tea, if this works out OK. But I can’t see me way around the fucking box. I could put me hand on something and get blown up. Oh, Mammy! I wish someone was here to do this for me, but I don’t know anyone. And anyway I couldn’t let strangers up here in the first place. The boxes in the hall could get robbed. Or the shop get broken into from the door downstairs leading into it. Jaysus! Me nerves are gone. Right! Just do it.

I groped me way back into the hall and held onto the back of the chair, putting me hand out ready to steady meself against the wall if I fell in the dark, or wanted to jump down quickly. I could barely make out the box in the pitch black. There’s not a chink of light coming in anywhere. I felt the little door hanging open and pushed it against the wall. Now for the switch. Keep your hands away from any wiring. I felt the top of the white fuses, and when I felt air I let me hand go in further. Right! Got it! Here’s the switch. I put one hand out, ready to jump, and the other one on the switch, and flicked it up, holding me breath for one split second, with me body locked, ready to sprint, and the lights blazed on. I blinked, looking around. I’m not blown up! The lights are back on! Me heart leaped with the excitement. I did it! Everything is OK again. That’s it! Never again. Leave everything well alone.

I grabbed the chair and flew down to the kitchen and looked at the cooker. The hobs were starting to heat up. Oh, thank God for looking after me. I’ll boil the kettle and use that for washing up. To hell with the bath. I can boil water in the kettle for that, too, and wash meself in the sink. Who needs the bath? I can wait until they get back. Right! Where’s the washing-up liquid, and the stuff for cleaning the cooker?

I washed the dishes, putting them away, and cleaned down the table then stood back, looking at the cooker gleaming white again. The smell is well gone out of the kitchen. Right! Just sweep that floor, then I can brush me teeth and wash me face in the sink then hit the bed. Where do they keep the sweeping brush?

I whipped open the long press in the corner next to the sink and stared at a copper boiler. Me eyes travelled to the top of the press. A white box with a fuse and a switch beside it said ‘Immersion’. This is for the hot water! It was in the ‘off ’ position. I flicked it on. Hot water! Oh, my God! All that trouble . . . it was here all this time. Now I have hot water, and everything is grand again. Oh, this is great.

I rushed over to the long narrow press in the other corner and there was the sweeping brush with a mop and bucket for washing the floor. Fuck that! I’m never washing that floor. I’m the shop assistant here. My days of being a skivvy, as the young ones in the convent used to call me . . . well, not any more!

I grabbed the brush and swept up the floor, then slammed it back in the press and rushed off down to me room to get me stuff ready for a nice hot bath. I put out me clean pyjamas. That nightdress is no good here. It’s too cold in bed. I must get meself another pair of pyjamas, but I have to watch the money. If aul Murphy has her way, she’d take the lot off me. As it is, I have to pay for me food out of the one pound ten shillings a week she gives me for me wages. So I have to pay for everything. Tea, sugar, milk, bread: it doesn’t seem to last long. I think the others must be using my stuff. I keep it separate from theirs. My tea is in a big coffee jar. They can keep their aul tea canister! And me sugar is in an empty jam jar that I washed out. The money flies out of me pocket. I can’t cook properly, only boil an egg, with bits of cheese on my bread, and sliced ham. That’s very dear altogether. So I’m not eating too much! But the money still goes. I only get me bus fare into town and buy ten cigarettes a day. Other than that, I don’t spend money on anything else. Hmm! This job is even less then I was getting in the convent. At least there I could save the five shillings they gave me every week for working up in the convent. Now I seem to have nothing left at the end of the week.

I put out me washbag with me toothpaste and toothbrush, and the new bar of Palmolive green soap I bought meself when I was living with Clare. It’s still new. I didn’t have to use it, because I could use their stuff. Even here I use Molly’s soap. She always forgets it and leaves it sitting in the bath. Then stares down at me, giving me suspicious looks when she sees her soap getting smaller, after remembering to take it back in with her. Right! I’m using me own, especially as it’s Christmas. I pressed it to me nose. Hmm! It smells lovely. Wonder if she has any bath salts? I whipped me head down to her side. No, leave her stuff alone. She’ll know you were touching her things. Anyway, you wouldn’t like it if she touched your stuff. OK, get yourself ready.

I put on me nice warm dressing gown and slippers and made me way down to the bathroom, putting me stuff on the chair. Then switched on the hot tap. No, it’s not hot enough yet! I want it scalding. Right, put on the kettle and have a drop of tea and a cigarette. By the time I finish that, the water should be hot enough. oh, God! There’s nothing like having the few comforts. This is the life. I could feel meself getting back to me old self as I sat and smoked and drank the lovely sweet hot cup of tea. I haven’t a care in the world. No one to please but meself. For a while back there I could feel exactly as if I was a child all over again. Shivering in fear. With Jackser screaming and barking out his orders in me head. Even in me mind’s eye I could see him. It was like as if I had never moved away, grown up, and was well out of his clutches. That he was long gone behind me. No, for that short while, nothing had changed. I am locked with him again. Waiting for the terror to pass, then waiting for the time to pass, so I can escape him.

Even now, deep inside meself I don’t really feel safe. It’s too soon since I got away from him. Anything can happen. That’s why I don’t want anyone knowing who I am. Or meeting anyone who knew me then. I even went into the Custom House and searched for a birth certificate to take back me own name. The one me ma gave me. Her own maiden name. Long! Jackser always put his name down for me. Pretending he was my father. So it was a shock when I went in and discovered he had put his name on me birth certificate when he met me ma. I now had two names down on me birth certificate. ‘What’s this?’ I roared at the fella behind the desk. ‘How did this happen? That aul fella is not my father! How could he put his name down as my father when he only met me ma when I was six years old?’

‘Hold on!’ he said, after looking at it. ‘I’ll get someone to come out and talk to you.’

‘Yes? I am the supervisor here. Can I help you?’

‘Take a look at this and explain it to me,’ I said, pushing the big book around to a grey-haired aul fella squinting at me through a pair of dispensary glasses hanging down on his nose. I stood, me breath coming in gasps, white with the rage, waiting for him to read it and explain how someone can just walk in and claim to be a child’s father.

‘Come into the office,’ he said. ‘We can talk in private.’

‘Fuck this,’ I snorted, banging me hands on the big thick wooden counter. I then followed him in through a door, waiting while he sat down at a desk covered in a mound of papers.

‘Take a seat,’ he said, opening the big book at the page where I was registered.

Then I started. ‘The world and his wife knows that aul fella is not related to me. I was with him when he went to the dispensary to talk to the aul fella there. Fucking Jackser wanted to get the labour money for me and Charlie!’

‘Please! Don’t use that kind of language,’ the aul fella said, shutting his eyes and putting out his hand in front of his face.

‘LISTEN!’ I roared. ‘I heard him talking to me ma about it. The same fucking week we moved in to live with him. THAT AUL FELLA IS NOT MY FATHER!’ I screamed. The supervisor went white. ‘Me ma’s sisters and brothers know that! And let me check my brother’s. Charlie’s! I want to check Charlie’s!’ I roared. ‘Because I can certainly tell you this. Jackser is most certainly not his father. I know the name of Charlie’s father. I remember every detail of him. Let’s see what’s on his birth certificate. What’s his date of birth and his full name? Charles Edward Long. I don’t know his exact date of birth. But I do know he was born five years after me. I remember everything. I even remember when me ma went into labour with him. There’s nothing I don’t remember.’

‘Look, he has me ma’s name. Long. And now that Jackser bastard’s name is added. So explain how he was able to do that.’ ‘It’s very simple,’ the supervisor said. ‘He went with your mother to a commissioner for oaths. Then in front of the commissioner he swore out an affidavit saying he was your father, and the father of your brother Charlie.’

‘Just like that?’ I said. Not able to take it in. ‘But people go through the mill, going to court to adopt children who are not their own, and this bandy aul bastard could just walk in and do it as easily as that?’

‘Yes. He was able to get the right information. As you say, the man in the dispensary that he talked to must have been the registrar for births, marriages and deaths. He would have known exactly how the process works.’

‘So what do I do now? This man is neither mine nor my brother Charlie’s father. They are not even married. Jackser was married to someone else, long before he met me ma. She never got married.’

‘Well, unless you can get your mother to admit he is not the father . . .’

‘But we both know that, me and the ma. The ma knows I know he’s not. Sure he always made sure to let me know I was not his bastard!’

‘Yes,’ the supervisor said, trying to get a word in and waiting for me to finish. ‘Unless she admits in an affidavit, in front of a commissioner for oaths. Then there’s nothing we can do about it. She swore under oath he was your father.’

‘Well, I am definitely not taking his name on my birth certificate.’

‘No, you don’t have to. See, here is the name you were registered with at birth. “Sally Long, Mother. Father unknown.” You are Martha Long. That is what your mother first put down when you were registered at birth. So you can have your original birth certificate with your mother’s name. That is the name you will be recognised with for the rest of your life. Whenever you apply for a birth certificate again, this is what you will be given. But you can’t have the long form of birth certificate. That will show Jackser as the father.’

‘OK,’ I said, feeling weak from the shock. ‘One day I am going to do something about this,’ I said. ‘That can’t be allowed to happen. A child’s name is robbed just like that! I thought birth certificates can never be changed. Well, in this instance . . .’

‘But in fact it’s not changed,’ he said. ‘The original entry is still there. Jackser’s name has just been added alongside it.’

‘Even years after I was first registered?’ I roared.

‘Yes! It’s all down to your mother,’ he said.

I took the short form of my birth certificate, seeing my name and date of birth. That’s all it said. I kept staring at it, thinking at least I have me name back. That was the first thing I did when I got out of the convent. I even left the children’s home where I was supposed to be training as a children’s nurse. The first time they let me out when I had the day off, I made me way to the Custom House to claim me name back, never realising he had added himself to mine and Charlie’s birth certificates. I thought all along he was just pretending his name was ours, never realising for one minute he had actually made it legal, getting himself on our birth certificates. They’d always said you can’t change that. But he did. You can do anything you like in this world to a child. It only took the ma to say I was his and the authorities jumped to do his bidding.

I walked away feeling a burning anger with Jackser and the ma. But most of all with the authorities. What had kept me going through all them years was the thought I was in no real way connected to him. He wasn’t married to me ma, because he was already married to someone else. So he couldn’t have married her anyway, even if he had wanted to. Me ma was never married. So I knew there was nothing he could do about making us his stepchildren. But all along he had worked it out. Straight from the very beginning. Fuck! That would have killed me if I had known. But I knew I would go back to my own name once I was grown up. So now I have.

But the authorities taking the word of a bastard like Jackser and the no-good ma! One day I will do something about that. I will fucking force the ma to admit she was a lying whore. That is all I had. The one thing me ma gave me. Her name. Jackser is not going to rob me of my identity.

I don’t know who my father is, and I’m not bothered to find out. He’s probably a tramp like Charlie’s father was. Walking the streets picking up cigarette butts. Begging for the shilling to stay at the Back Lane homeless hostel for men in the Liberties of Dublin. Then fucking off and leaving her to face her family, and the three of us ending up on the streets, looking for somewhere to stay. No! I’m not bothered about a father. He was the first one that got me ma into trouble in the first place. After that it was all downhill for her, until she fell into the clutches of that mad bandy aul bastard Jackser! So, whoever you are, Father, you can go and fuck yourself! I’m never going to go looking for yeh!

Anyway, I saw what that kind of carry on did to some of the girls in the convent, when they finally caught up with their mothers. Some of them had the door shut in their face. You never find the fucking fathers. Men! I started to roar me head off crying. I hate fucking men. Especially Jackser.

No, I hate that stupid selfish whore of a ma even more! The good-for-nothing cowardly bitch. I wouldn’t have even minded if she was a whore! At least she would have gotten paid for it. Then we would have gotten something to eat. And maybe a roof over our heads! No, she was even too stupid to work that one out. Jaysus! If I ever find that I am going to have sex with a man, then I would start charging for it. To hell with that! If you’re going to sleep around, you might as well not be giving it out free! No, I’m never sleeping with a man unless I am going to marry him, and that’s not going to happen for a very long time. So no fella is going to get his hands on me. Never! I’ll never be like the ma.

Jaysus! When I think of all the men she slept with. Stupid cow! The most she got was one shilling and sixpence from the fella who used to sell the newspapers on the corner. Even then I had to drag it out of him when me ma sent me after him. Jaysus! I can still see her now. Sitting up in the bed, leaning herself on one elbow. ‘Jaysus, Martha. He didn’t leave me any money! I have no money to even buy a bottle of milk. Run after him quick an ask him teh lend us a few shillins.’

LEND US! Fuck! If I’d been her after giving him what he wants, it wouldn’t a been a lend! I would have turned the little bastard upside down and shaken every penny out of him. No, me ma had no sense. I would never let a man use me like that. Never mind let him make dirt of me. I think sex and money is at the root of all trouble. No, I’m going to live like a fucking Carmelite nun. Hunted and haunted, not having anything to do with sex. So that’s that!

I lifted me head, wiping me snots with the back of me hand after bawling me head off, feeling me anger going away. Gawd! Wait until poor Charlie finds out when he turns up some day looking for his birth certificate. Still, he can do what I did. Get a copy of the original one. At least I can use me own name again.

It’s funny how the rage only really started hitting me now when I started to think about it. I suppose I went into too much shock. I couldn’t really take it in. Yeah! It’s taken me until now to sit and think about it. Well, there’s nothing much I can do about it now. But the time will come. There’s a time and a place for everything. Right! The water must be scalding by now.

Me eyes shot wide open. It’s morning. Christmas Day! I stared around the room, seeing the light still on. Gawd! I went out cold, leaving the light on all night. Good! I’m getting me money’s worth for the ten shillings, that aul Murphy one is robbing off me.

I could see the light coming in the window through the thin curtains. I moved in the bed, feeling the cold hot-water bottle beside me. Gawd, that was lovely last night. Having all that heat with the lovely hot-water bottle. I must have been shattered. As soon as I hit the bed and snuggled up with me book and the lovely heat I went out for the count. I don’t even think I got past the first page. Where is it? I lifted me head, seeing The Carpet Baggers sitting on the floor.

Right, up you get. I leaped out of the bed, feeling rested and full of energy. I could hear church bells ringing to announce the start of the next mass. Right, I’ll have me breakfast and get ready for the mass after this one. What time is it? I walked over to take a look at Molly’s old clock sitting on one leg held up by a holy ornamental mug from Lourdes. Twenty past eight. Gawd, that’s great! It’s still very early, I’ll have the whole day to enjoy meself.

I pulled back the curtains, letting the early morning bluey-grey light make its way into the room. Then made up me bed and left me book and hot-water bottle sitting on the bed, waiting for me to come back and enjoy meself no end with a good read and the lovely comfort of a warm bed. I folded me pyjamas and left them on top of me pillow. Then stood back to see everything looking nice and neat and tidy. Yeah, I love that. The nuns trained me well. I love the order of having everything in its place. It’s a long way from what I was used to.

Now for breakfast. What will I have? Two boiled eggs and black crusted loaf with thick good butter plastered all over it. Right! I headed into the kitchen and switched on the cooker and filled the kettle. That’s going to take a while to boil. I think I’ll go and get meself ready. I rushed down and got me wash things and gave me face and neck a good wash and brushed me teeth. OK, what will I wear, I thought, as I headed up to the room. I’ll wear me best clothes – the frock and shoes and hat and coat the reverend mother bought me when I left the convent.

Ready! Gawd, I look lovely.

I slammed the hall door shut behind me and set off, walking down the road to the church, looking down at meself, seeing I looked lovely. I could smell the Palmolive soap off meself and I felt as good as anyone.

‘How many of you here would open your door to welcome Joseph and Mary carrying the Christ child in her womb? The child who was to become the king of all kings? How many of you would invite them in? Give them refuge? Sanctuary? She will not be carrying a sign saying “I am to be the mother of the Christ King!” NO!’ the priest boomed, frightening the life out of everyone. Bringing us all back to our senses. Making us all sit up and gape at him in astonishment. Instead of sitting here, taking in all the style. With the lot of us all dressed up to the nines, and me wondering what I’m having for me Christmas dinner. Will I put me pork chop under the grill along with the sausages and rashers? I’m not taking any chances this time and burning them! No, I want to enjoy meself, have the best time of me life. I can eat me chocolates, keeping some for tomorrow, St Stephen’s Day. That’s a very important day.

‘YO U WOULD PROBABLY SLAM THE DOO R IN THEIR FACES!’ he screamed, making everyone jump, me included. Interrupting me thoughts for a lovely day. I stared up at him along with everyone else. People’s faces had dropped. They even stopped coughing. You could hear a pin drop. All the mammies had muzzled the kids to shut up. Afraid of their life he would roar at them from the altar, even though we knew that wouldn’t happen. No, not on Christmas Day! But with the mood that aul priest was in . . . well, everyone was craning their necks looking up at him hanging out of the pulpit. His big bald shiny head and his matching shiny red face gaped down at us with disgust that we would not let Mary, carrying the baby Jesus, come into our homes and share in the Christmas dinner. Everyone looked very annoyed with him at the idea of him spoiling their lovely day with the stupid question of whether they would let Mary, the mother of Christ, born on this day – on this day, for God’s sake – into their homes! Of course they would!

‘The mass is ended. Go forth in peace,’ the priest said, making the sign of the cross, with his hand held stiff and sideways. ‘I wish each and every one of you a happy, holy and joyous Christmas,’ he said, looking to every side of the church. Then he bowed to the tabernacle, and swept himself off the altar, with the four little shiny-faced altar boys in their snow-white soutanes following his footsteps. One each side of him and two behind holding onto his alb. The people stood, with their bodies braced, waiting for him to clear the altar and disappear into the sacristy. Then everyone made a move out of the benches and we slowly made our way down the aisle and out into the Christmas morning. With the sun trying hard to make itself seen.

The air felt cold and dry, and I stood for a minute, still part of the crowd stopping to wish friends and neighbours a happy Christmas. Everyone was very excited. All gaping at each other’s style and leaning into each other, listening for the bit of gossip with gaping mouths, then laughing, and looking around for each other. With people wanting to make a move and get home to start the feast. Children ran in and out of the crowds of mammies and daddies and uncles and aunts, and grannies and granddads, and relatives and friends who had come specially to stay, and enjoy the

Christmas together. I felt the excitement, and I was all dressed up, too. I was just like them, a part of everything that was going on. I could talk to any of them and they would not turn away from me because I was a pauper, dressed in rags and bare feet and covered in sores. No, I look lovely.

I didn’t see anyone I could strike up a conversation with, because they were all busy talking to each other. So, it’s really a day when people only have time to talk with you for a few minutes if they know you, because they have to rush home and get everything going.

People started rushing off, the crowds disappearing very fast. It was getting quieter now. I suddenly felt a bit lost. Which way to go? Up to the room or head left, slowly walking in the direction of town? There wouldn’t be many buses today. Anyway, I could walk. I’m not in a hurry anywhere. No, I won’t bother going back to the room. It’s far too early. I’ll take a walk in the direction of town then mosey back and cook me dinner.

I turned left out of the church grounds and started walking, keeping me hands in me coat pocket. Ah, here we are, the Bishop’s Palace. I stopped to look in through the big black gates. They’re locked. I looked in at the dark avenue with the huge trees covering the path, and wondered what the bishop was going to eat for his Christmas dinner! Probably a huge big roasted turkey served on a big silver platter, with mounds of roast potatoes, and gorgeous black Christmas pudding dripping in whiskey and shovelfuls of brandy butter. Hungry fucker! I bet if I went up there now and banged on his door demanding to share his dinner . . . ‘Why?’ he’d ask.

‘Because I like turkey and pudding and the rest of the lot that goes with it!’

‘So, why should I let you in? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call the police and have you arrested for trespassing,’ I can hear him saying.

‘Because that red-necked priest was roaring at everyone in the church that we should share. That’s why! And because you’re the bishop. You have to show good example!’

Yeah, if you want to get yourself arrested, Martha, go on! Climb over the gate and have a go. Jaysus! The things I think of. I wouldn’t want to sit with him anyway, and probably end up praying with him for the rest of the day in the chapel, giving thanks for the lovely grub I got. Not on yer nelly! I got enough of that with the nuns. Hmm!

I looked around, seeing the empty streets, and spotted the bench. I sat down, feeling I hadn’t a care in the world. Ah, this is the life. Gawd! I remember the last time I sat here. It was years ago. I was in an awful sweat after robbing all the packets of cigarettes out of that priest’s saddle bag sitting on the back of his bike. There he was, minding his own business, up on the altar saying mass for the nuns in the convent, and I come along and rob him blind. I wonder what he thought when he saw the bag empty. Probably cursed me to hell! Then I robbed that bag with the chicken, out of the shop up the road. Gawd! Here I am now. All dressed up and nobody to answer to, nothing and nobody worrying me! I still can’t get over that. Yeah, life is definitely a bowl of cherries. Right, move on. It’s getting freezing cold sitting here.

I moseyed on, stopping at Binn’s Bridge and looking over the wall into the dirty canal water. My Gawd! This brings me back. How often have I turned here, walking up that Whitworth Road there on the way to the convents with me ma and the kids. All of us walking from town, or going over this bridge and heading up the road on me way back out to Finglas. But we walked it more times then we took the bus.

I haven’t been around these parts in years. Not since I went to the convent. Now here I am, back again, but on me own terms. Yeah! I wanted to shout and laugh. I looked around, seeing no one, keeping me happiness to meself. You don’t laugh on your own. You get arrested for madness and disturbing the peace. Ha! That thought made me laugh. I feel I can do anything, whatever I like. Who is going to stop me?

I headed on down through Dorset Street, seeing a few cars on the move. People sat in the cars with their new hats and coats on. Most of them had grannies and granddads in the back of the car, with loads of Christmas presents all stacked in the back window. They’re probably getting collected to go for their dinner with their grown-up children, I surmised, looking after the cars. Some cars had children in them, hopping around, tearing open presents. They’re probably going to a relation for their dinner or visiting the granny or an auntie to give her a present. They’re all the respectable people I used to look up to. Now I could pass meself off as one of them. Funny, they don’t seem that big and important any more! Just ordinary. It must be because I’m ordinary, and if I’m like them, then they must be ordinary, too.

I stopped when I got to the corner of Gardiner Street. Will I turn left down there, and end up on the Liffey? Or will I go straight, head on down Dominick Street, and continue on down to the Broadstone? I’d even end up beside the Richmond Hospital. Then if I went up the hill, I would be up outside the Morning Star Hostel, where that Jackser fella said he first met me ma. He used to talk about that. He’d even say if it wasn’t for me running off with that aul one’s high heels from the women’s part, the Regina Ceoli Hostel, they would never have met!

Yeah, I remember that day very well. I took off, running down the hill in a pair of women’s high heels. The ma had started talking to an aul one in the hostel. Then me ma made herself comfortable, sitting down on the aul one’s bed with the babby, Charlie, sitting on her lap. I spotted the high heels sitting under the bed and tried them on.

‘Don’t touch my things, young one!’ snapped the aul one at me. I couldn’t help meself. I took off running, straight out the door, onto the street and down the hill. With the ma carrying the babby in her arms and roarin at me teh bring back them good shoes. The aul one was flying behind her, screaming, ‘Mind them heels! Don’t break me bleedin heels!’

This was the best thing that ever happened teh me. The ma giving me a chase with the aul one roarin up behind her, and me gettin teh wear a pair of women’s high heels. I flew past a pack of aul fellas all sittin on the steps. I was clattering along like mad, hammerin the heels up and down on the concrete, tryin teh keep me balance. The aul fellas’ heads shot after me, roarin their heads laughin when they saw me in the shoes bigger then meself. Then the women whippin past trying teh catch me. Charlie was gettin a bounce up an down in the ma’s arms as she flew after me. He was screamin laughin, too.

Yeah! Then I remember me ma and her friend going over to talk to the men. They were there for hours, until the aul ones who ran the women’s hostel came out and chased me ma and her friend back to the hostel. But I don’t remember seeing Jackser. I was too busy hoppin up and down on the steps. Not takin any notice until the aul ones came running out of the hostel to eat the head off me ma for talkin to the men. I still remember what the aul sister said. ‘Come away at once! You are not allowed to stand here engaging these men in conversation. Get back to the hostel this instant!’

I remember staring up at the ma, as she shook Charlie in her arms, saying, ‘Ah, no, sister! I only wanted teh know the time because I have teh take the babby over teh the hospital teh get him looked at. Lookah! He’s not well at all.’

I started pullin the babby’s leg and he roared his head laughing. ‘Ma, there’s nothin wrong wit our babby!’ I shouted, lookin up at her wit me mouth hangin open, wonderin why she was sayin tha. ‘Lookah, Ma! He’s laughin at me!’

‘Keep quiet, you! Fuckin big ears!’ the ma roared, losin the rag. Disappointed at her enjoyment getting cut short. Yeah, that was one of the few rare times she ever went for me. The ma used to be very gentle until she met that toerag!

‘This is your last warning!’ the sister roared. ‘You will all be barred from the hostel, if you do not come back at once.’

I remember the ma takin us and runnin back in. Afraid of her life we might get locked out. But I knew she was disappointed, because she had been laughin and havin a great time with the men. God help her! Come to think about it now, she very seldom had much to laugh about. But them aul ones made short work of her little bit of enjoyment. They called themselves sisters. They were the Legion of Mary. Very holy aul ones altogether. They spent most of their time on the lookout for loose women. They even managed to get the prostitutes off the streets in the 1920s. Up around the Monto, it was called. Around Gloucester Street, and all round Corporation Street. Where I used to live. The Monto was famous in its day. I heard so many people talking about it. They even had a song about it. ‘Take her up to Monto! Monto!’ Yeah!

So that’s why when me ma met him that night when we were walking through Church Street on our way back to the hostel, they stopped to talk, saying, ‘There yeh are again!’ It never really dawned on me. I was the one responsible for them clapping eyes on each other in the first place. So that was the beginning of their great bleedin romance! And the worse thing of all is that it’s all down to me! If I hadn’t robbed them high heels, they might have passed each other by in the church grounds, without saying a word to each other. He would never have told her he’d got himself a place and we could move in with him. Jaysus! I curse the day they met.

No, if I walk down that way, I’d even end up in the Liberties. By crossing over the Halfpenny Bridge, then mosey along the quays, past Usher’s Island, then turn left, and head up into the Liberties. All me and the ma’s old haunts. Me heart really started to sink. God! What’s wrong with me at all? Why am I wanting to wander all around them places on Christmas Day? This is not the time for that. It would cause me no end of heartache. I would end up remembering, and wanting them times back when it was just me and the ma. We had nothing, but we did have each other. The really hard times started when poor Charlie came along. Then Nelly, me ma’s sister, had enough and took off to England, leaving me ma to get on with it. Yeah, you were right all along, Nelly. The ma was nothing but trouble, getting in with the likes of Jackser!

Ah, bloody hell! I can feel the pain hitting me all over again. Wanting! Always wanting to get back to a time when . . . I was happy with the ma! When was that really? No, we didn’t feel happy. We were only happy when we had a few bob, or somewhere to stay. Most of the time we were tired. But I think we were happy. I must have been. Because I keep wanting them times back. Oh, God, please help me!

I suddenly started feeling the tears spilling down me cheeks. I pulled the hat off me in frustration and started to scratch me head like mad. Wanting the terrible feeling of loss, and the pictures in me head of me and the ma, even walking the streets of the Liberties homeless, back a long time ago, in the old days . . . I want that longing to stop. It’s just me! There’s no ma. I want to enjoy meself. Now suddenly I feel like I’m completely alone in the world.

‘Fuck yeh, Martha! Why could yeh not keep yer fuckin mind on what’s goin on aroun yeh?’ I heard meself screaming inside me head. It was like I was a little child again. I could hear the voice of meself as a child. I’m never far away from that. Being the small child again, with the street kid way of going on and speaking. ‘That’s who I really am!’ the child screamed in me head.

I will be respectable, though. It will all work out! I’m only starting off in life. I need to be patient. I’ll make friends and have people around me, and have somewhere to go as well. Just like all the other people. I just need to be patient.

OK, I’ll ring someone and wish them a happy Christmas. Who will I ring? I can ring Sister Eleanor. Me heart lifted straight away. Yeah! I started to root, searching me pockets for change. Sixpence! I came up with sixpence and took it out of me pocket. I wonder where I’ll get coppers for the phone? Then it hit me. Sister Eleanor would eat the head off you for ringing her on Christmas Day. It’s a time only for the nuns. They probably even have the phone switched off. Me heart sank at the picture of her getting very annoyed with me, because I disturbed her peace. She had enough of the children in the convent. She probably only managed to get rid of the last of them at the last minute. Like last year.

No, forget that idea. Well, who else do you know? Clare! Yeah! No, she was nice to me . . . but I don’t belong. They have their own family. They don’t want strangers disturbing their peace. Yeah, leave her alone. OK, forget that. Just keep walking down towards the Liffey. See what might be happening.

I walked across Mount Joy Square, and down the hill. Looking over at the Father Scully flats. Everywhere is locked up. There’s not a soul around. Jaysus! Where is everyone? The streets are empty. I was hoping for the crowds, and looking to see the style of people all dressed up. See what the fashions are.

I stopped at the traffic lights, blinking red to green, with no one wanting them. I looked up Summerhill, then right, looking down Parnell Street. I could see onto o’Connell Street, with nothing happening except the odd car in the distance. Which way now? Will I go straight ahead, then turn right, up Sean MacDermot Street and onto o’Connell Street? Ah, Jaysus! I can’t make up me mind. I could always turn around and head back to the flat. No, that would be a bit of a let-down. I was looking forward to something happening. What? What’s eating at yeh? What are you looking for? People, someone to have a laugh with! All these dead streets are making me feel I’m on me own. But yeh are! Yeah, but I didn’t really think that. I’m always on the move, chatting and laughing no matter what I do or where I go. In the shop when I’m serving the people, or rushing to get ready to go out on me afternoon off. All excited after getting me bath and doing meself up in me good clothes. These ones! I looked down at them. Then I’m off to the pictures or in and out of the shops, looking at the latest fashions. Or going for a cup of frothy white coffee in Caffola’s. Watching the people going by. Fuck! Suddenly I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go. Jaysus! I definitely don’t like Christmas after this. I never did, up until I went to the convent and got people to go out with for the Christmas holidays.

Hmm! I know what I’ll do. I’ll mosey on and turn up Talbot Street and see what’s happening on O’Connell Street, and head back to the flat that way. Then by the time I get back I’ll be in great form after me long walk. I can have me lovely dinner, me pork chop, and sausages and tomatoes and two . . . yeah two fried eggs. Then a couple of biscuits and hop into bed with me hot-water bottle and read me book and start on the box of chocolates. Smashing! I could feel me heart gladdening at the thought of all I had ahead of me.

Right, here we are. I stared the length and breadth of O’Connell Street, really seeing the size of the road, for the first time, without any buses, cars or people. Only the odd straggler, like the man across the road, stopping to take a swig of the bottle of red biddy in his hand. Then making his way, staggering, with his head pointed straight ahead, looking like he wanted to get somewhere in a hurry. His head suddenly whipped over in my direction, seeing me looking at him. ‘Happy Christmas to yeh!’ he roared happily, waving the bottle over at me and stopping to take another swig, lorrying the drink down his neck. I laughed.

‘Happy Christmas to you, too,’ I shouted, thinking he’s rushing to get himself a bit of dinner somewhere. Probably down the quays to the Adam and Eve’s church. No, I don’t think they give out anything on Christmas Day. Suddenly, I shouted over without thinking, ‘Where are yeh going for your dinner?’

‘To the Mansion House. The Lord Mayor’s place.’ Then he roared laughing. ‘I don’t care if he’s there or not, so long as they give us out our Christmas dinner! By the look a you, yeh don’t need it. But if yer lookin, make yer way over there. They do give out a lovely dinner.’

‘Thanks. That’s good of yeh. But I’m grand. I’m on me way home.’

‘Right, I’ll keep movin. Enjoy yerself! Because if you don’t, no one else will do it for yeh!’ he said, rushing himself happily off in the direction of Dawson Street, going for the free Lord Mayor’s dinner.

I wonder why he thought I might need a free dinner? I’m all dressed up! Does he think I might be homeless like himself? Gawd, I’d hate to think that. Maybe it’s because I asked him. Funny how people can read yeh! Mind, I’m like that meself. I can read people a mile away.

Right, time to get moving back. I’m dying to get there now and have me dinner, then start on me book. This wandering around, going nowhere, would put years on you. I’m just getting lost in meself with nothing to do, or see. No wonder I’ve gotten meself into a state.

I pulled the plug, letting the water out of the bath, and took off down to my room. Ah, that was a lovely hot bath, I thought, looking in the kitchen, seeing it all nice and clean after me Christmas dinner. I could still get the smell of the rashers and pork chop I had for my dinner. That was lovely and tasty. I managed to cook it lovely. I think I have the idea on how to cook now. You watch the frying pan like a hawk, and keep turning everything. But it still cooks too fast. Then comes out a bit dry. Wonder why that is? Still and all, it was lovely.

I threw me washbag under the chair and climbed into bed, bringing me book and chocolates with me. oh, where’s me cigarettes? on the kitchen table. Ah, leave them. I can smoke in bed to me heart’s content. Who’s going to stop me? But it’s better to keep the air fresh in here where I’m sleeping. Now for the bit of comfort.

I sat in, propping me head against the pillow, and sank back, hitting me head against the wall. Fuck! Me eyes peeled down to Molly’s bed. I leaped out, grabbing hers. She has two! I only have the one. All the better. I can put it back before she finds out. Now, here goes. At last.

I opened the box of chocolates, dipping me hand in, and opened the first page of the book. Lovely! I couldn’t ask for more. No one’s having a better Christmas than me.

I looked over towards the window, hearing shouting. People coming up the road roaring at each other. I listened. ‘Will yeh come on outa tha, for Christ’s sake?’ a fella was shouting at a woman. Ah, yeh can leave them to it, Martha. It takes Christmas to bring out the worst in some people. I took another chocolate, going back to me book, getting lost in the story.