We’re movin again, down te Sheriff Street. Jackser’s delighted, cos tha’s where he comes from. He grew up in a little laneway there. Jackser gets one of his cronies, tha’s wha me ma calls them, cos she hates them – they’re always leadin him up te no good, she says, drinkin an chasin dyed blondes. Anyway, Jackser turns up wit his crony an yer man’s horse an cart. An they take the two beds an mattresses, an the table an one chair, cos Jackser smashed the other one. An the blankets an coats fer the bed, an Teddy’s cot, an they whip up the horse an take off laughin. ‘Right! We’ll see ye down there,’ Jackser shouts te me ma. ‘An don’t take all day!’
I watch them disappear, wishin we could get a ride, too. An I hurry back te me ma, who’s holdin the babby an lookin at the pram piled high inta a mountain wit the babby’s blankets an clothes, an our two holy pictures, an the family one of themselves. An the mug belongin te Jackser, an our jam jars fer our tea. An the two dinner plates, an the tea pot, an the spoons an knife. An her papers wit all her documents, an loads a stuff. ‘Here, ye’ll have te carry him while I try te manage this pram,’ she says.
I grab the babby, an he slides down me legs an starts te slap me an hammer me wit his legs. ‘I can’t carry him, Ma!’ I whined, tryin te hump him up on te me hip.
‘Oh, give him here!’ she shouts. An the babby happily wraps himself aroun her neck an shouts, ‘Ah!’ at me, in case I come near him again. ‘Here! Push tha,’ she says. I take the handlebars, but I can barely see over them, never mind see over the mountain of stuff. I push off, an the weight of the pram immediately heads fer the road an is about te turn over off the footpath.
‘Mind where ye’re fuckin goin!’ me ma shouts. I let go of the handlebars an race aroun the front te stop the pram. ‘Ah, this is no good!’ me ma says. ‘What are we goin te do? We’ll never get there!’
‘We can put the babby on top,’ I says, ‘an you push, Ma, an I’ll hold him.’
Me ma chews her lip an looks at the top of the mountain. ‘No! He’ll fall off. Ah, fuck tha bandy bastard.’
‘Right! You go on wit the pram, an I’ll stay here wit the babby an mind Charlie, an then ye can come back fer us,’ I said.
‘I’ll have te go all the way down, an then walk back, an back down again. I’m not fuckin Ronnie Delaney, ye know!’
‘Well, what are we goin te do then?’ I roared, fed up wit me ma.
‘Right! You sit there, an I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ an off she went, puttin her back inta the pram an then tryin te stop it runnin away as she hit the corner.
The babby went mad when I sat on the steps of the house an me ma landed him in me lap. He was stretchin an slappin an throwin his head back in an awful temper, watchin me ma disappear aroun the corner. ‘OK. Come on, we go. Come on, we go.’ I was pretendin, tryin te distract him. He stopped an stared at me fer a minute, an when he knew nothin was happenin, he tried te escape an crawl onta the steps. I grabbed a hold a him an roared, ‘Oh, lookit the doggy!’ an a mangy, skinny-lookin dog came up te us te see if there was anythin te eat. The dog stared in disgust at us roarin an shoutin. He knew we had nothin te give him an went off about his business.
I was frozen solid, an the babby was asleep in me arms, an Charlie was cuddled in beside me, wit his fists between his knees te keep his hands warm, when me ma finally rounded the corner wit the pram an hurried up te us. ‘Tha bastard was givin out,’ she said. ‘He doesn’t want the babby te catch cold. Come on, we’d better hurry,’ an she took the babby from me stiff arms an put him in the pram. An she covered him up wit the blanket an put the cover on an pulled up the hood. I lifted meself up, hangin on te the railins. I was so stiff an cold, an I dreaded the walk an facin the Jackser fella. I lifted Charlie wit me an put him on his feet. The wind was blowin his coat open an smackin the legs off me.
‘Ma, put Charlie in the pram! He can’t walk, an he’s too tired,’ I said.
‘No! He’ll break the springs an sit on the babby’s legs.’
‘I’m not movin,’ I said, an she was gone, flyin aroun the corner. I grabbed Charlie’s hand, an he started te cry. I was cryin an roarin, too. I was in a rage wit me ma.
She kept ahead of us all the way te Amiens Street, just lookin aroun now an then te make sure we were behind her. ‘Come on!’ she’d shout. ‘Hurry up, we’re nearly there.’ By the time she did stop long enough fer us te catch up wit her, she was standin under the arch next te the train station. ‘Right! We’re just there,’ she said, an she pushed on, headin down te Sheriff Street. Me anger was now left me, an I just felt disgust fer me ma, cos all she wanted was te get down te tha Jackser. I was beginnin te think she was as bad as him. She coulda given Charlie the bit of comfort an put him in the pram.
When we finally got te St Brigid’s Gardens, we went in a narra road an came onta a square wit balconies all round. We were on the ground floor, next te waste ground wit a railin aroun it, an concrete sheds in the middle of the square fer keepin yer pram an yer bike. We lifted the pram inta the hall, an Jackser came rushin te show us the flat. ‘Look, Martha! We have two rooms, an you an Charlie can sleep in the bedroom. I’ve put yer bed up fer ye’s. I’m thinkin of puttin the cot in there, too, there’s plenty of room. But I won’t do tha now.’
I had a winda, but it was too high up fer me te see out. An there was nothin else te look at, so I went inta the sittin room, an there was a big winda lookin onta waste ground, surrounded by other flats, an all the windas were lookin on te this patch of grass. There were dogs an childre runnin aroun, an people dumped their old mattresses an rubbish there. The sittin room had a fireplace, an Jackser had put their bed at the far wall an the table an chair in the middle of the room, an he’d got the fire lightin.
I’ve been sittin in the flat fer days now, listenin te the childre playin outside. I’d love te be out there playin wit them, but I’m afraid of me life te go near them. It’s all too strange. I can’t face new childre again. They won’t like me, an they’ll fight wit me an call me names. There sounds like an awful lot of them out there, an I’m tryin te think how I’ll get aroun this. Maybe I could pretend te have an English voice. I could say I was born in England. Tha might distract them from the state I look. Runnin aroun in me bare feet tells them immediately tha I’m a pauper. Then they’ll think they’re better off an more important than me. The English voice won’t last, then they’ll call me an eejit an try te beat the hell outa me, an I’ll never get any peace.
Jackser sends me up an down te the shops, an there’s millions of kids aroun the place. I’m beginnin te look aroun me now an size them up. But I still don’t stop te talk te anyone when I’m runnin back wit the messages.
Me ma decided te give herself an airin an put the babby in the pram, an me an Charlie went wit her down te the shops. On the way back, I saw somethin lyin on the road, just beside the entrance te our flats. There wasn’t a soul te be seen down there, an I said te me ma, ‘Lookit, Ma! There’s an orange box lyin in the middle of the road. We could use it on the fire or maybe sit on it. Will I run down an get it?’
‘No!’ me ma said. ‘I’m goin in here te the vegebale shop te get an onion. You stay here an mind the pram.’
I was hangin on te the pram, watchin te see wha me ma was buyin an thinkin about gettin the orange box before someone else whips it. Me ma came outa the shop, an we started walkin down the road, headin fer home. It was very quiet, this hour of the mornin. It was aroun half eleven, an all the childre were at school.
Suddenly, I saw a coupla little childre head towards me orange box, an I said te me ma, ‘Ah, they’re goin te take it!’ Then a man got outa a big cattle truck, an he seemed te be staggerin towards it as well. I started te run, an as I got closer I saw it wasn’t an orange box but a babby lyin stretched out. The man was standin a few feet away wit his arms out, implorin, ‘Sweet Jesus, I never had a chance! She must have come outa them flats. She was straight under me wheels before I knew wha was happenin. One minute nothin an the next a little child appears from nowhere an goes straight under me wheels!’
The man was white as a corpse an was staggerin aroun, lookin at the little babby who was mashed te the ground. She was so small she had probably only learnt te walk not long ago. I looked aroun te see if her mammy was lookin fer her, or maybe her brothers or sisters, but there was nobody aroun, only the two little childre, who were about three years old, an the man an me. Even me ma was gone. I’d heard her mutter somethin te me about, ‘Oh, Jesus! Come on!’
I inched closer te look at the child, but most of her was mashed te nothin, her fair curly hair an her face was squashed. I jumped back wit the shock. ‘Mister! Will I ask someone te get the police or somethin? Ye need help,’ an the man looked at me.
He was in terrible shock. ‘Would ye? Would ye do tha so!’ An then he looked at the child again an took off his jacket an put it over the little babby.
I ran down te the priest’s house an banged the door. A little aul one came out an screamed at me fer keepin me finger on the bell an bangin on the door. ‘What do ye want? There’s no one here.’ She was about te slam the door on me, an I told her te get the police. A child had been kilt!
‘Where did it happen?’
‘Just aroun the corner,’ I pointed, ‘in front of the flats. She was kilt by a big cattle truck, an she’s lyin all mashed on the ground. It’s terrible! An the man who did it is in an awful state altogether!’
‘Oh, God bless us an save us!’ said the housekeeper. ‘I’ll run in an get Father.’ An she rushed in, an I rushed off. When I got back te the man, there was a load of people standin aroun an lookin. A policeman was talkin te the man an tryin te keep everyone back. Suddenly, he let a roar at the lot of us an put his arms up an shouted, ‘Get offa the road! Go an play in the flats. Do ye see what’s after happenin now? Go on, stay off the road!’
I looked aroun me, wonderin where the little child’s mammy was, but there was still no sign of her yet. An I thought, she still doesn’t know! The poor mammy will lose her mind. I wonder who was supposed te be mindin the child. I don’t see them here either. I wandered back inta the flats an was wonderin how I coulda thought she was an orange box. When I’d looked down the road, there hadn’t been a sinner about. It was so quiet, an she’d been lyin all tha time on the road an nobody te run te her.
Jackser started me at a new school, an he brought me over himself. ‘This is me old school,’ he kept tellin me. ‘I went here before they sent me te Artane. Now I’m goin te send you. It’s a great school. They’ll teach ye everythin ye need te know. So be grateful te them, an if they see ye’re interested, they’ll be happy te learn ye all they can. Ye’re lucky I’m lookin after ye, cos there’s not many men who’d do what I’m doin fer ye. An if ye were waitin on yer mammy te move herself, then ye may wait till yer hair turns grey! Now, get all the edumacation ye can get outa them, it’ll stand ye in good stead! Right?’
‘Right, Jackser!’ I agreed, an in we went te see the person in charge.
I was put inta the second class an sat there in the desk completely lost. They all had books – English books, Irish books, sums copybooks. An worst of all, they were all dippin pens inta an inkwell an joinin up letters together! These childre were all scholars! I was lookin aroun me at the lot of them, an they were very serious scholars. I hadn’t even started yet te be a scholar. I never got te even finish the baby class! The teacher, Miss Flaherty is her name, is a terrible aul one altogether. She’s marchin up an down wit a huge stick in her hand. An she really fancies herself. She keeps fixin her tight perm wit her free hand an smackin the nearest desk wit her stick, in case anyone is lookin up from their writin. Her hair at the roots is stone grey, but the rest of it is dyed blue.
She’s walkin down the room now between the desks an pointin her stick at people’s copybooks. ‘Keep it above the line, you stupid creature! You, keep your head down!’ an she moves on. I haven’t done a thing yet. Ah, God! How do ye do this? I look at wha the young one beside me is doin, an I have a go. I’m sweatin, tryin te do them letters an sort of draw them together. But it looks like a man tryin te hang himself. An now I’ve just blobbed a big stain of ink. I drawed in me breath suddenly wit the fright. The young one beside me looked up an did the same when she saw what I’d done. Her mouth is hangin open, an her eyes is bulgin. She stopped starin at me copybook an moved herself down the seat, takin her copybook wit her. An she’s leaned over it an put her arm aroun it, so I can’t see wha she’s writin an how she does it. I don’t know wha te do now. An the more I stare at it, the more me head seems te be emptyin. I’m just sittin in dread, waitin fer it te be over. She’s roarin an shoutin an gettin closer all the time. She’s lookin at the young one beside me an tellin her, ‘Good! Yes! Good girl, Agnes!’ Then she looks over at mine, an me fingers are covered in ink. The copybook is a holy show.
‘What on earth is that?’ she roars at me. An I look up slowly an put me pen slowly down on the desk. She suddenly lunges at me an brings the heavy stick down on me knuckles. The pain shot through me, an I felt me hand was broken. I held it in me other hand, an me right arm was limp. I sort of winded out me breath an moaned, ‘Ah! Ah! Me hand.’ She grabbed the copybook, holdin it by the corner, an marched me te the top of the class. She was laughin at me an held me copybook up fer everyone te see. ‘This is the work of a cretin!’ she said. Wonder wha tha is!
The childre laughed, delighted it was not them. An happy wit her jokes, cos she didn’t make many. ‘Read it!’ she said te me. An I didn’t know what it was supposed te be, so I said nothin. I then lifted me head an looked at her. She stared inta me face, an I saw Jackser. Her eyes said, I’m master of you. An if I have te kill ye te prove it, I will. But I knew she was still a teacher. An ye can’t kill people in public. So I stared back, an she roared, ‘Put out your hand!’
I gave her me good one, but she grabbed the sore hand an put me arm in the air. ‘Hold it there!’ she roared. An when she brought the stick down, I tore me hand back an hid it behind me back. ‘You’ll get six on the other hand now and six more every time you draw your hand back.’ I stood still an put me bad hand out. She brought the stick down as hard as she could. I never moved an inch or took me eyes offa her. I kept me mouth shut. She had a smirk on her face, an her eyes never left me face. Then she roared, ‘Hold out your other hand!’ an I held it high in the air fer her. She tried harder after each slap te get me te cry. Her eyes were dancin in her head, but this was Jackser, an I’m not goin te cry!
Miss Flaherty won’t get the better of me, an them childre there all lookin up at me won’t get much outa me either. Ye can call me names an ye can laugh at me. I have te put up wit tha. But ye’re not goin te think ye’re better than me. Cos one day I’ll show ye’s all.
The bell rang, tellin us school was over. Everybody grabbed their bags an started te put away their books. ‘Quiet!’ the teacher roared. ‘Tomorrow, you will all bring in sixpence for knitting needles and wool. You are going to be knitting stockings, and I want no excuses. Make sure you bring in your money.’
I went home worryin where I was goin te get the sixpence. When I got in the door, I could hear Jackser roarin. ‘Holy Jaysus, Mrs! Where’s tha smell comin from?’
‘How the fuck do I know!’ me ma roared back. ‘It’s probably yerself! Every dog smells his own dirt!’
Jackser was goin mad, rushin aroun the room wit his head down sniffin inta corners. The babby was sittin on the floor in his vest, dribblin on a lump of cinder. He was covered in dirt from the ashes, an his little bare arse was freezin from the cold, cos the fire was out. Me ma was lyin on the bed, holdin her big belly. Her skirt wouldn’t fit her, it barely covered her hips. An she left the zip opened. She was tryin te pull down her jumper te cover herself, but her belly still stuck out. An I knew another babby was goin te arrive. I looked at her, an me chest tightened, an I felt sick wit dread. I’ll be left here on me own wit Jackser when she goes inta hospital.
Me ma’s eyes was locked on mine. ‘What are ye fuckin starin at?’ she roared at me. Jackser stopped snifflin an whirled aroun. Me heart stopped. He took three long steps across the room an grabbed me by the back of me neck, liftin me off the floor. The babby roared an took te his knees, crawlin aroun lookin fer a safe place te hide. He shot under the bed, an Charlie came outa his doze, sittin wit his back te the bed, an jumped in beside me ma. An she gave him a clout fer landin on her belly.
Jackser shook me, ‘Do ye see tha, Mrs? Do ye?’
‘Wha, Jackser, wha?’ I couldn’t breathe! He was stranglin me.
‘Tha, ye blind eejit! Tha!’ An he stuck me head inta a lump of shit the babby had done in the corner. Then he lifted me inta the air again an threw me on the floor. ‘Clean it up!’
He lifted his boot te kick me, but I rolled meself inta a ball an screamed, ‘I’m doin it now, Jackser! Don’t hurt me, I’m sorry. I’ll be quicker next time, an I won’t annoy ye!’
Jackser was whirlin aroun on the balls of his feet, his fists was clenched, an he was dribblin spit. His eyes was bulgin, an I stayed very still, afraid te breathe, tryin te hold me sobs. Waitin. ‘Move!’ he shouted. An I shot up an sped te the scullery, lookin fer a bit of newspaper.
I came flyin back. ‘Ma! I need paper. What’ll I use?’
Jackser grabbed me copybook an tore out the pages an said, ‘Use this, Mrs.’
‘Eh, right, Jackser!’ I cleaned up the shit an rushed te the tilet te flush it down, thinkin tha teacher is goin te kill me. How am I goin te get a new copybook now? Jackser was shoutin at me ma te get up from the bed. ‘Get down te tha priest an see if ye can get a few bob outa him! Tell him we’ve no coal an the kids are dyin of the hunger. An bring me back five Woodbines. I’m dyin fer a smoke.’
Me ma was chewin her lip an lookin at me. She didn’t want te go. ‘Send her! I can’t go out. I’m in me skin. I’ve nothin te wear. Anyway, tha aul bastard wouldn’t give ye anythin. I’d be wastin me time.’
‘Ma, you’d be better goin. The housekeeper will only slam the door in me face.’
‘Right! The fuckin two of ye go,’ Jackser roared. ‘Or, by Jaysus, if ye continue te come the hound wit me, I’ll be hanged fer ye’s!’
‘Come on, Ma! Get yer coat.’ I could see me ma was gettin very annoyed, an Jackser would kill her if she started, an me too!
We went down te the priest’s house, but the housekeeper said he wasn’t in. An she wouldn’t tell us when he’d be back. ‘We can’t go home, Ma, not without money!’ I said, so we walked up te Marlborough Street an managed te get half a crown from one of the priests there. Me ma bought bread an milk, an margarine an six eggs. But we’d no money fer the Woodbines. Me ma was happy, but she said we’d better get the money fer his cigarettes, so we crossed over the river an went up te Clarendon Street Church.
I was carryin the messages, an me ma was very tired. It was gettin dark now, an she kept sayin, ‘He’ll kill us fer takin so long.’
‘Yeah, Ma! But we can’t go back without his Woodbines. If we get enough money, we can buy him ten cigarettes, an maybe tha will put him in good humour.’
The church was packed wit people gettin their devotions. An the priest was up on the altar givin out Benediction. ‘We’ll wait here,’ me ma said, ‘an catch him when he comes out.’ So we stood outside the priest’s house, watchin an waitin, hopin we wouldn’t lose him. He might disappear out another door, an we’d be left stranded.
It was after nine o’clock when the priest finally appeared. We were cold an wet from the drizzlin rain, an it was pitch black. The priest gave us two shillins, an me ma was delighted. We rushed off an bought Jackser his cigarettes, an when we got home, he whipped the door open as soon as he heard us comin. ‘Where the fuck have youse been till now? The child’s been cryin wit the hunger fer hours.’ He stared at me ma an then at me. I was watchin his clenched fists.
‘We were hurryin as fast as we could!’ me ma said.
‘Youse are lucky I didn’t come houndin after ye’s!’
‘Here’s yer Woodbines. I’d an awful job tryin te get the money fer them.’
An Jackser snatched them from me ma’s hand. His eyes lit up, an he started te snuffle an stretch his arm. ‘Right! Get in there an get somethin on. We need grub on the table fast, Mrs!’
‘Take yer fuckin time!’ me ma said, knowin she wouldn’t get a dig, cos he was content wit his Woodbines. ‘Did ye bring in tha plank ye found? I want te light the fire fer the tea,’ me ma said te me. I opened the door an rushed out te grab me plank before someone robbed it. I’d been afraid te bring it in, cos Jackser might have smashed us over the head wit it if he was really annoyed.
Mrs Flaherty banged on her desk wit the stick an shouted fer everyone te put away their Irish books. ‘Now! You, Mary, give out the knitting bags. Stand up those who have not brought in their sixpence for their knitting!’
I looked aroun me an stood up slowly. There was only one other child standin. ‘I have me sixpence, Mrs Flaherty,’ she said, an held it high up in the air so no one could miss it. I looked at it longinly, wishin it was mine.
‘Put it on my desk!’ An the young one rushed outa her seat, pulled up the leg of her knickers an went off proudly te collect her knittin.
‘Now, you!’ an Mrs Flaherty pointed her stick down at me. Her eyes were glitterin, an she had a smirk on her face. ‘Tell us all what your excuse is today. We are all listening. Is that right, children?’
‘Yes, Mrs Flaherty!’ they all shouted back, shiftin in their seats wit excitement, all makin sure they were comfortable, coughin an settlin themselves in fer the show. I was shakin an tryin not te show it. I stood on one leg, leaned me hand on the desk an stood up straight, me mind racin. Tryin te find a way outa this.
‘We are waiting!’ Mrs Flaherty roared.
‘Ah! Eh! Hm!’
‘Yes?’ she barked, bangin her stick on a young one’s desk, makin her jump an move herself down the seat in a hurry, pushin the other one who had her leg caught in the bench an was hangin out.
‘Me ma had no change,’ I squeaked.
‘What?’ Flaherty roared, holdin her ear an pretendin she was deaf. ‘Speak up! I didn’t catch that!’
‘Me ma had no change in her purse this mornin,’ I squealed.
‘You are a liar!’ Mrs Flaherty said quietly, watchin me carefully, her mouth twistin an her eyes glintin.
‘No, Teacher! I’m not, she really didn’t have any change.’
‘Liar!’ Flaherty roared, an rushed at me, grabbin me arm an lashin out wit the stick at me legs, hittin the desk at the same time. She dragged me te the top of the classroom an spun me aroun, diggin her fingers inta me shoulder. She bent down an levelled her eyes at mine. Her eyes are bulgin, an her face is purple, an she’s spittin. ‘The truth! I want the truth!’
‘Yes, Miss. I didn’t ask her, cos I forgot,’ I said very quietly inta her eyes.
She took her head back an stared at me, thinkin, you didn’t ask your mother. ‘Hm! Every other decent mother in the class has paid up. But not you. Right! This will remind you. Hold up your hand,’ an she grabbed me hand an started te swing the stick as hard as she could. The pain shot up me arm. She brought the stick down again an again, as fast as she could. ‘Now the other hand.’ She’s lookin down on me, an me shoulders are breakin. I can’t stop her, an I can’t take me hands down. She hates me. It’s cos I’m dirty. She knows me mammy hasn’t got the money. I saw tha in her eyes, an she hates tha, cos it means we’re dirt. I’ll hold on, though, cos I can’t let her beat me. She’s not goin te get me. I won’t cry. I won’t show fear. I won’t ask her te stop. She got tired an threw the stick on the desk. ‘Get back to your seat.’
I was in a fog. I stayed wit me hands in the air half closed an stiff an burnin. Me eardrums was roarin, an me back was stiff an twisted. An then I turned meself aroun an staggered back te me desk. Me legs was bucklin under me.
I spent the next week runnin aroun doin messages fer people in the time I could spare when I wasn’t lookin after the house an childre, when me ma an Jackser went out, or when Jackser was in a good mood an put me out on the street te play an told me not te come in unless he called me. At last, I managed te save up the sixpence, an I was sittin in me desk, waitin fer Mrs Flaherty te call out fer us te start knittin.
‘OK, give out the knitting, Mary.’ I was all excited, cos I had me money, an I wouldn’t be gettin slapped like I did every mornin fer not havin it. I couldn’t wait te learn te knit. I whipped the money outa me shoe an waited patiently.
‘You, stand up!’ Mrs Flaherty roared down at me. ‘Have you brought in the money?’ She was wavin the stick behind her back.
‘Yes, Mrs Flaherty. I have the money!’ An I held it up high te show her. Her eyes bulged, an she clamped her lips together. ‘I have it, Miss. Here it is,’ I said quietly, afraid cos she didn’t seem happy.
‘Where did you get that money?’ she roared at me.
‘From me mammy, Miss,’ I said quietly.
‘You liar! Your mother didn’t give you that money, you stole it!’
‘No, Miss. No, I didn’t! Me mammy gave it te me.’
‘You couldn’t have gotten it from your mother! She wouldn’t give you the money. For weeks now she wouldn’t give you the money. You don’t have that kind of mother. You would never get the money from her because she doesn’t have it. She would never be able to afford suddenly to give you that sixpence. You are a thief! Where did you steal the money from?’
‘I didn’t, Miss. I promise I didn’t steal it.’
‘Are any of you missing money?’ she asked the class. I looked aroun at everyone. Some of them were shakin their heads up an down an then changin their minds an sayin no. She pointed her stick at one child, who was sayin yes an no wit her head goin aroun in circles wonderin wha te say.
‘Did you have money missing, Teresa?’
‘Eh, yes, Miss. One time I lost a shillin outa me bag, an I couldn’t find it, Miss. It must have been took!’ an she looked over at me, feastin her greedy eyes on me sixpence.
‘That’s enough for me! Get to the top of the class, you. Stand beside my desk!’
I couldn’t understand wha was happenin. I hadn’t robbed the money. I did all the messages fer the people an saved it up. But if I told her tha, I would be ashamed of meself, cos then they would all know their mammies are better than my mammy. Cos all the mammies are poor, but they still manage te give their childre the sixpence, an mine can’t.
‘Put the money on my desk!’ I left the sixpence on her desk. Me hands were shakin. ‘Come here!’ I went over slowly te where she was standin. I was rubbin me hands behind me back, an now I was shakin wit fear. I lifted me head te look at the other childre, but they were as confused as me, an nobody was laughin. I think they knew I didn’t rob the money, cos some of them knew I went fer messages fer people, an tha’s how ye got the pennies. ‘I’m going to teach you a lesson you won’t forget! You dare lie to me? I will teach you not to steal! Hold up your hand, and when I’m finished, you will regret you were ever born!’
I went quiet inside as she brought the stick down on me hands. Me wrists! The pain is miles away from me. I can see her face, red an purple, an her mouth is twistin, an there is a lot of noise comin from her mouth. But I am holdin on, waitin fer it te be over. It will end. A pain wants te gush up from me, cos she hates me. An I’ve done nothin wrong! But I push it back down again, cos if I cry, she will be happy. An then I won’t be tough any more, an everyone will beat me.
She finally stopped an rubbed her arms. ‘Get out of my sight!’ I couldn’t move, the pain was flyin up me arms an aroun me shoulders an neck an head. I was in agony. She didn’t bother where the stick landed. She grabbed me by the back of me neck an dragged me over te the corner. ‘Stand with your back to the class. I don’t want to see your face for the rest of the afternoon!’
At three o’clock, the bell went. I didn’t move. ‘Put your books away quietly and move out in a single line.’ As the childre moved outa the classroom, I looked aroun an waited te get on the end of the line. ‘You, Miss, and you, and you, stay behind!’ Everyone else kept movin as fast as they could te get out. I tried te get on the line, but she yanked me back an threw me inta the middle of the room wit the other three. ‘You will all sit here until five o’clock. You three were laughing and idling at the back of the class. So now you can wait until your mothers collect you. And I will have something to say to them about your conduct.’
‘But, Miss Flaherty, I didn’t do anythin! Will I have te stay?’ I was shiverin from the shock. Jackser will kill me.
‘Stay here, you. You are not to leave this room!’ An she walked out the door.
I started te get a blindin headache. Wha will Jackser say? Wha will he do te me? I sat down at a desk an put me head on me arms. I was suddenly so tired an wanted te go te sleep. Oh, God, wha did I do? Don’t let him kill me, ye know I didn’t do anythin. But I promise te be very good if ye don’t let him hurt me. I was shiverin an feelin very hot at the same time. Don’t let him hurt me, God! Please.
The other childre were laughin an sayin, ‘Oh, God! Me ma’ll kill me.’
‘So will mine.’
‘Jaysus, me ma will kill her first, though. She has an awful temper, especially when I tell her she’s always hittin me. Tha aul Flaherty is goin te get her just deserts.’
I was afraid te move me head, it was painin me so much, an I was tryin not te get sick, cos I would have te run te the tilet, an Mrs Flaherty would kill me altogether fer leavin the classroom.
Suddenly the door opened, an we all jumped. ‘What ails ye? What are ya doin here?’
‘Ma, Mammy! Tha teacher wouldn’t let us out!’ An a young one ran te her mother.
‘Who wouldn’t? Wha did youse do on her?’
‘Nothin, Ma. Nothin at all.’
‘Yeah!’ they all shouted, an ran over te the mammy. ‘We were afraid we were goin te be locked up fer the night.’ An everyone was shoutin at the same time.
Then another mammy appeared. ‘There ye are, Concepta! Wha happened te ye?’
‘Ah, Ma, we got locked up in here! She wouldn’t let us out!’
Then the door opened again an Mrs Flaherty came in. The childre started cryin an holdin on te their mammy’s hands.
‘Would ye mind explainin te me why ye took it on yerself te keep me child locked up here a prisoner?’ Concepta’s mammy asked.
‘Yes! Who do ye think ye are, may I ask?’ the other mammy said, gettin very annoyed.
‘I beg your pardon!’ Mrs Flaherty started te say, straightenin herself up.
‘Don’t ye beg my pardon! Ye’re losin the run of yerself. Ye have no authority over me child after three o’clock.’
‘Exactly!’ screamed Concepta’s mother. ‘Ye uttered the words right outa me mouth, Mrs, so ye did.’
Then the door opened again an another mammy appeared. ‘Philomena, are ye here?’
‘Ma! Ma!’ an Philomena galloped over te her mammy.
‘Jaysus! Wha’s happenin here? Was there an accident or somethin?’ An she was feelin Philomena’s head an lookin inta her face te see if she was hurt.
‘No, Ma! It was her!’ she said. ‘We weren’t gettin home.’
The mammy went white an looked over at Mrs Flaherty. ‘Wha did ye do te me child? She’s only eight years old. I was outa me mind wit worry when she didn’t come home.’
‘Yes indeed, Mrs. So we all were. Are ye tryin te hold on te yer job, Teacher? Is tha it?’ Concepta’s mother shouted.
‘Ye’ll be well kept,’ Philomena’s mother roared. ‘Ye must have no home te go te an no childre or man of yer own. Tha’s why ye’re torturin the little innocents.’
They were all shoutin at once, an the childre were pinchin each other an laughin behind their mammies’ backs. Mrs Flaherty said they should all leave now, an she ran outa the room. The mammies followed her, draggin the childre behind them. ‘An another thing!’ they roared after her as they slammed the door shut behind them.
I listened te the voices goin down the passage, an then they were gone. It was quiet now, an I looked over at the winda. It was gettin late. Jackser was probably on his way over, or maybe me ma would come. But I knew tha wouldn’t happen. She wouldn’t stir herself unless he made her. An he’d be too annoyed about me not comin back. He’d come after me himself. ‘God,’ I whispered. ‘Are ye there? Don’t let him harm me. I know he’ll be annoyed I had sixpence an didn’t give it te him. So maybe he’ll go fer Mrs Flaherty instead, cos she got the money, an he’ll put her in her place. He might just take his vengeance out on her. An then he’ll forget te be annoyed wit me. OK, God. Tha’s grand. I promise I’ll be very good if tha happens.’ Me head was easin wit the pain, an I was content te settle down an wait.
It was beginnin te get a bit dark now an still no sign of him. Then I heard a door open an held me breath. The footsteps stopped an another door opened. I could hear voices, then a door closed an the voices stopped. I was left wonderin if tha was him, an I started te shake again. I was shiverin away wit the fear, an I couldn’t stop me legs from jerkin. Please, God, help me. I promise I’ll be good. I won’t curse or fight wit anyone any more. I’ll do wha ye say. I’ll give them me other cheek when they hit me. Then I gorra picture of meself gettin milled by a crowd of childre cos I gave them me other cheek te box. An I decided tha wasn’t a good idea. I’d only get kilt. Then I heard Jackser’s hobnail boots on the passage, an me heart leapt. The door was swung open, an Jackser appeared wit Mrs Flaherty behind him. She had tha smirk on her face, an they nodded te each other.
‘Right you! Out!’ I jumped up from the desk an hurried out in front of him. Jackser tipped his cap at Mrs Flaherty an said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll see te her.’ Mrs Flaherty smirked at me an looked very satisfied wit herself. ‘Get movin, ye dirty bastard! Before I put ye under a fuckin car wit me boot.’
I started runnin ahead of him up the street, wonderin wha he was talkin about. ‘She said ye were dirty. Ye had lice crawlin in yer head.’ I looked back at him an stopped. I didn’t know wha he was talkin about. She mustn’t have mentioned about the sixpence. She made up lies, so she must have known I didn’t rob it! An why did he let her get away wit the excuse of me bein dirty? Tha’s her reason fer holdin me back? Lots of childre are dirty. She’s not supposed te do tha. I looked at Jackser, tryin te figure him out. He has no sense! He’s not like a big person at all. An tha Flaherty was afraid of him, tha’s why she lied. She just hates the sight of me, tha’s all. She’s another Jackser! I can’t understand it at all. I didn’t do anythin, an I got kilt fer nothin. I’d be better off dead, it’s always goin te be like this. If only I could run off somewhere an get a bit of peace.
‘Move!’ Jackser shouted. ‘I was made a show of in there. But I set her straight. I told her ye weren’t one of mine, ye were another man’s leavins!’
Tha hurt me feelins, but I thought, yeah, ye’re right there, Jackser! But I’m glad I don’t belong te ye. An I ran faster, te get ahead of him. I didn’t want him te land his boot on me.
Mrs Flaherty is ignorin me all mornin. She didn’t even look at me when she called the roll te see whose missin. Tha’s grand. I hope she keeps it up. I’m sittin in a desk by myself, an tha’s grand, too, cos there’s no one te fight wit me, an I can get a bit of peace. I lift me head an peep up at her through me fingers. An she’s sittin at the top of the room wit her feet on a young one’s desk. She’s pattin her hair an takin crumbs off her skirt, cos I saw her earlier, sneakin a biscuit from her drawer. She’ll probably start suckin her bull’s eyes later when she gets everyone te put their head down wit the writin.
‘Now! Can anyone tell me who were the Bold Fenian Men?’
‘Me, Mrs Flaherty! Me! Me!’
‘No! I don’t want you to speak. Just put your hand up.’
I looked aroun. They all had their hands up except me an a few at the back. ‘Concepta Sweeney, Bernie Wilson, Philomena Rafters, stop that idling!’ Then she turned te the young one in front of her. ‘Majella, get me my stick.’ Majella dashed te get the stick an handed it te Mrs Flaherty. Then swished her lovely shiny ponytail wit the lovely long pink ribbon, an daintily fixed her lovely matchin pink frock an sat back down again. ‘You will get a taste of this stick if you don’t behave yourself.’ Then she looked over at me. I looked down at me desk.
‘Teacher! Mrs Flaherty.’ I heard a squeak an looked up. It was Concepta. ‘I forgot te give ye this, Teacher. It’s a note from me mammy fer ye, it is.’
‘Bring it up here.’
Concepta wiped her nose wit the back of her hand an pulled up the leg of her knickers, they were always hangin down. An she rushed up wit the note, bangin inta desks in her hurry. We all watched Mrs Flaherty readin the note. She looked surprised an then had another look at it, an looked at the back, where there was no writin. An then shook herself an said, ‘Right! Mary, dear, would you move in here beside Majella, and you, Concepta, you sit in there beside Maria Goretti. And be a good girl. Because now I’ll be keeping an eye on you.’ I wish I was sittin beside Maria Goretti. They owned the fish an chip shop, an maybe I’d get free chips an fish. An we’d be best friends.
We went out te the yard te drink our free bottle of milk. Some of the childre don’t bother te drink it, but I love it. Even when it’s freezin cold. It was cold now, an I was hoppin up an down tryin te get warm. Me feet were painin me from all the cuts an sores from goin aroun in me bare feet. The three pals were lookin very annoyed, cos they were separated. ‘Wha did yer ma say in the note, Concepta?’ I asked.
‘Mind yer own business, smelly!’ I was wonderin if I should say somethin back, but the three of them would jump on me, an I wouldn’t have a chance. ‘There’s an awful smell,’ Concepta said, lookin at me. An then they turned their backs an walked off.
‘Yeah!’ I roared. ‘Ye can’t read, tha’s why ye won’t say. An ye have a snotty nose!’
Concepta roared back, ‘At least I have knickers, an lookit, I wear shoes!’ An she caught her foot in the leg of her knickers an went backwards, landin on her arse. I ran off laughin.