The St Vincents got Jackser a job. He was te call down te see the man on Monday mornin. ‘I’m very grateful te ye fer all the help ye can give me,’ says Jackser, implorin the man wit his hands joined together as if he was prayin te the man.
‘That’s all right,’ said the man. ‘So long as you’re there on time. Ten a.m. sharp, mind! And show you are a willing worker, you should have no problem being taken on.’
‘Thank you very much, Sir! The blessins o God on ye! An I’ll get the childre te pray fer ye. I’ll even get the Mrs te light a candle fer ye.’
‘Yes, well, that’s all right, thank you!’ said the Vincents man. ‘And don’t forget, ask for Mr O’Brien. He’s a personal friend of mine. So don’t let me down. He’s doin this as a personal favour to me!’
‘Oh, have no worries on tha end,’ said Jackser. ‘I’m a very hard worker when I get goin. All I need is the start.’ An he gave a little salute wit his two fingers pointed at his head an then shot them at the man, lookin very serious altogether.
Jackser’s gone off te see the man about the job. An he’s washed an shaved wit the new tuppenny Silver Gillette blade I rushed te the shop fer this mornin. Me ma looks happy. ‘It’ll be grand havin the few bob if he gets tha job,’ me ma said. ‘I hope everythin goes all right.’
‘Ah, he’ll get the job, Ma. The Vincents man was certain.’ Then I felt happy meself. ‘Just think, Ma! He’ll be out all day, an we can do wha we like! An we’ll have money te spend on food! Oh, Ma, this is great!’
I looked at her, but she didn’t seem sure. ‘I hope so, or maybe he’ll be chasin dyed blondes.’
‘Ah, Ma! Stop annoyin me. Ye’re always goin on about tha! Can I go outside te play an watch fer him?’
‘Yeah, but don’t go far. He’ll be out lookin fer ye when he gets back.’
I was watchin two young fellas playin cards when I saw Jackser comin in through the gates. I rushed down an got inta the room behind him.
‘Well, Sally, I got the job. I’m a night watchman on a buildin site down on the North Wall. An I’m te start tonight.’ Me ma was blinkin an chewin her lip an smilin, takin it in. But I was busy tryin te work out if there was any good in tha. He’ll be here durin the day an out at night when we’re all sleepin. Ah, tha’s too bad! But at least we’ll have money. ‘Right, Sally, get goin,’ he suddenly said. ‘I need te get me head down an get some kip. So I want this room cleared. Get them kids outa here an get me some grub te eat. Put on a stew.’
Me ma looked in her purse an handed me two shillins, tha’s the last of the money! An she handed it te me an sort of took it back, not wantin te part wit it. ‘Eh ... go down an get me a quarter a sausages, an two carrots, an an onion, an a packet a Bisto. An bring me back the change.’
When Jackser woke up, me ma gave him the stew from the pot. An we all crowded aroun. ‘Wha’s this, Mrs?’ he roared, swingin his eyes up te heaven. ‘Have ye not fed these kids?’
‘Don’t mind them!’ me ma said. ‘They’ll get their tea in a minute.’ So we all moved away from the table, an Jackser shovelled the stew inta his big gob. I knew we’d be lucky te get tea an bread.
‘Right! I’m off!’ he said, standin up. ‘An don’t forget, send tha young one down wit me can a tea an a loaf a bread cut up. An a bit a cheese if ye can get it! An wrap it up in the greaseproof paper from the bread. An bring it down te me aroun twelve a clock tonight. Now make sure ye’re on time!’ he said, pointin his finger an stabbin me chest.
‘Yeah, right, Jackser. I’ve got tha. I’ll hurry down te ye!’
‘See tha ye do!’ An he was gone out the door. I watched through the winda te make sure he was gone, an then I let me breath out. Me ma whipped out the little packet a cheese we got on the ten bob Vincents voucher an started cuttin up the loaf a bread.
‘I’ll get this ready fer him tonight, an tha’s the last of the bread!’
Me mouth fell open, an I roared, ‘What about us, Ma?’ I looked at me brothers, all waitin fer somethin te eat, our bellies rumblin wit the hunger after watchin an smellin tha lovely stew tha aul bastard wolfed down his gullet. ‘We got nothin te eat all day, cos ye were savin it fer tha bandy bastard.’
‘Don’t you start!’ me ma roared back. ‘I’m tellin him wha ye’re callin him when he gets back here.’
‘An I’m tellin him ye’re sayin he’s chasin after dyed blondes!’ I roared, nearly cryin wit the way she always puts him first an gives us nothin.
‘Stop yer roarin! I’m givin ye bread an tea. He’s not gettin the whole loaf.’ An I know she was tryin te make the peace. So I let go of me rage at her an just hated Jackser even more.
I fell asleep on top of the bed, cos I knew I’d have te go out late. An there was no point in gettin inta me bed.
‘Wake up! It’s time te take him the tea!’ I didn’t know where I was, I was so tired. An I put me head down again, wantin te get under the blankets. ‘Come on!’ me ma shouted in a loud whisper. ‘He’s waitin, an I don’t want any trouble.’
I got up an took the can wit the handle. It was very hot, an the tea would slop out if I didn’t balance it properly. I couldn’t swing it. I put the big packet a sambidges under me arm an held the can in me other hand away from me in case it scalded me. An me ma opened the door an whispered, ‘Now ye know where te go? An don’t dilly dally, tha tea has te be hot fer him. Down the quays, on the North Wall, past the pub facin the ships.’
‘Yeah, Ma! I know where te find him.’
‘Go on, then, an hurry!’ me ma said before shuttin the door.
I rushed out inta the cold night air, an it was freezin. Outa the buildins an aroun te Talbot Street, headin fer Amiens Street, an then under the arch an down te Sheriff Street. Past the church on me left an up an over the bridge. Turn right, passin the shops an the flats, an go te the end, comin out where the ship docks te take ye te Liverpool. One day soon, I’ll be takin tha ship an leavin here for ever. I turned left an rushed on. It was pitch black, an the wind was whippin up the river. I hadn’t seen a soul. An it was so quiet, everyone was snorin in their beds.
At last I could see Jackser. He was sittin in a little box like a hut wit no door. An he was holdin his hands out, warmin them on a big metal brazier glowin red hot filled te the brim wit coke. ‘It’s about time ye got here!’ Jackser snorted, whippin the package a sambidges an grabbin the can a tea. ‘I’m fuckin starved sittin here in the freezin cold while youse are all lyin in yer beds not givin a fuck about me so long as ye have yer own comforts!’ An he glared at me, shovin a huge chunk a bread an cheese down his neck an washin it down wit a big hot sup a tea.
I watched this an mumbled, ‘We were hurryin, Jackser. An I got here as fast as I could.’
I moved closer te the fire while he had his fill. An when he was satisfied, he offered me a bit a bread an poured me a sup a tea. ‘Here! Get tha down ya. It’s a cold night. At least it took them little bastards off the streets. Young fellas! Throwin stones, they were. At me!’ He couldn’t believe it an shook his head. ‘It’s the bigger ones I have te watch. Them bastards are throwin big rocks tha’d split ye wide open if ye didn’t keep wide awake. But I’ll catch them! An they won’t come back here in a hurry!’ I finished me tea an bread, an put the mug down, wantin te collect the can an go home. But Jackser was still talkin. ‘This job’d kill ya. The smoke from tha coke is gettin inta me lungs an poisonin me.’ Then he gave a big cough te clear his throat, an spat inta the fire, makin it sizzle. ‘Tha chinny aul bastard from the Vincents knew wha he was doin all right! Nobody else would take this job, breathin in them fumes from the coke an gettin yerself split wide open wit them fuckin young fellas!’
Then he sat thinkin, starin at the fire. ‘When ye’re down, it’s very hard te get te yer feet again,’ he said, lookin very lonely. I listened. ‘Nobody wants te know ye! If I had me time over again, I’d do things differently. I’d never touch the drink. Tha was the ruination of me. I put me poor mother in an early grave because of it. I gave her a terrible time, I did. I even sold the home from over me brother’s head, I did. The night she was buried, I sold the key fer drink. Now they’re all in England, married wit families. An they’ve done well fer themselves. One of them even has his own business. But they won’t have anythin te do wit me! They haven’t spoke te me since tha night. They all had te take the boat te England. But it’s me poor mother. Ah! I broke her heart, Martha! If only I could tell her I’m sorry. I do terrible things, but I don’t mean them!’
I looked at his eyes shinin wit tears, an I felt so sorry fer him. ‘Ye’re a good kid, Martha. I wish things were better, but you’re smart, ye have it all up here,’ an he pointed te his head. ‘You’re smarter than me an yer mammy. Poor Sally, she doesn’t have your head. But I’d do anythin fer her. I idolise the ground she walks on, but there doesn’t seem te be anythin I can do. She won’t let me work. When I used te do the coal, she followed me te the stables an accused me of lookin fer other women. But I wouldn’t do tha on yer mammy.’ I knew tha was true, but I didn’t know wha te say.
Every night I have te run down wit his tea an sambidges. I’ll fall inta the bed aroun two o’clock an then get up again at seven an get the childre out onta the street, cos Jackser wants his peace an quiet te sleep until about four o’clock. I’m worn out walkin the streets wit the childre. An I have te spare the bread me ma gives me. An the childre are whingin wit the hunger. Me head is painin me all the time, an I get sick if I touch the bread. An we’re all freezin cold an exhausted from tiredness. But nothin is goin te change. I wish he’d never got tha job.
Jackser came home on Thursday mornin wit a black eye an a big bloody swollen mouth. I listened while he told me ma wha happened. ‘Sally, I got an awful beatin!’ he said as he collapsed in the door. Me mouth fell open, an me ma shook an blinked, an chewed her lip, an went white as a sheet.
‘Wha happened?’ she asked.
‘Them bastards, big young fellas they were, started their messin again, throwin stones at me. Big rocks! But I was ready – waitin fer them, I was. An when they came, I let them get close, an then I sprang. Catchin the leader, I gave him a hammerin. A young fella of about fourteen. He squealed like a pig. The bastards had been houndin me night after night. An then early this mornin, aroun six o’clock, two fellas appeared outa nowhere when I was sleepin. Out of me senses I was, an they dragged me te me feet an started punchin me in the stomach an kickin me on the ground. I never had a chance. He was the young fella’s aul fella. He was a docker on his way te work, he said! The other fella said nothin. Just stood there wit his legs spread out an his arms folded, watchin. “I don’t want te see you here tonight when I get outa the pub!” he said, yankin me te me feet an shovin his big bull face at me. “Or ye’ll be in tha fuckin Liffey wit a big chain tied aroun yer neck. Do ya get tha?” he roared at me. Jaysus, Sally! Ye should a seen the size a them! They’d make ten a me. Built like a fuckin bus, he was! Tha’s the end a me! No more. I’m not showin me face down there again. Fuck me, no!’ An he collapsed on top of the bed.
Jackser’s gone te collect his wages an his cards from the job, an sign back on the labour. I’m happy, cos now I might get a bit of rest at last. We took the chance, while he an the ma was out, te lie on the bed. Everyone was exhausted, even the babby was sleepin. I closed me eyes an felt meself sinkin down inta a lovely sleep. ‘Oh! Thanks be te God! This is lovely,’ I sighed.
We all woke up when we heard the shoutin. Jackser was comin through the door wit me ma trailin behind him. ‘Can ye believe tha, Mrs? No labour until God knows when! An all cos they said I walked out on the poxy job. Sure, I was only offa the labour fer three weeks! An now ye’re tellin me the Vincents are comin no more!’ He roared at me ma, spittin wit annoyance, his eyes bulgin outa his head.
‘It’s not my fault the Vincents won’t give us any more!’ me ma shouted back. ‘I’m only tellin ye wha they said te me. Chinny said, when I asked them te call on us, tha they can’t do any more fer us. Tha they have more deservin cases te look after!’
Jackser ran at her an waved his arm in the air, pointin te the other flats. ‘Ye mean they’re goin te give it te them tha has plenty. While the rest of us starve!’
‘Wha do ya want me te do?’ me ma roared, takin off her coat an scarf.
‘Right! Tha’s it, I’ve had enough.’ An he made fer the door.
‘Where are ye goin?’ me ma screamed in panic.
‘Mind yer own fuckin business,’ he said, lookin back at her.
‘No! Give me tha money. Give me them wages ye got from the job.’ She lunged at his pockets, tearin at his coat. He grabbed her, givin her a punch in the face, an sent her flyin. She hit the floor.
The kids screamed, an I leapt offa the bed screamin, ‘No, Jackser! Please don’t hurt me mammy!’ I was implorin him wit me hands joined an lookin up inta his face. He hesimitated, spit comin outa his mouth an his eyes starin outa his head. I was so afraid he’d kill her an the rest of us.
We stayed like tha fer a few seconds, our eyes locked on each other, an then his face dropped an his eyes cleared. An he put his hand in his pocket an took out four green pound notes an handed me two. An he said quietly, ‘Here, give tha te yer mammy. I have te get out, this place is killin me. I’ll be back. Look after her.’ An he was gone.
I picked me ma up off the floor, an her lip was bleedin, an her cheek was all swollen. ‘Here, Ma,’ I said quietly, givin her the money when she was sittin on the chair.
She wiped the blood off her mouth wit the back of her hand an looked at the money. ‘Tha won’t last long. He’s gone off te drink the rest. What am I goin te do now?’ she cried, lookin at me. I stared at her, feelin very sorry fer her. I wanted te do somethin, but I didn’t know wha te do. I was still shakin, an I could feel me heart sinkin down inta me belly wit the way everythin seemed so empty. She sat there cryin quietly. An I sagged down onta the bed.
Harry was whingin an pullin at his hair wit tiredness an hunger. His face was black an sticky, an his hair was standin up an matted wit dirt. An then he started bangin his head against the wall. I tried te pull him over te me, but he pushed me away. Teddy lay down again an just stared at the wall, not even blinkin. An Charlie just sat on the bed, not movin a muscle, an looked at me, only movin his eyes, as if te say, maybe you’ll do somethin, Martha, te make things better.
I stood up. ‘Ma! I’m goin out. I’ll be back.’
She stirred herself. ‘Where are ye goin? Stay here, I want ye. I don’t know ... ye’ll have te get a few messages, I suppose.’
‘OK, gimme the money! Wha do ye want me te get?’
She didn’t answer me. I stood an waited. I felt I was drownin. I had te move. ‘Ma! Wha do ye want me te get?’ I asked louder.
‘Nothin! Wait, leave me alone! I just want some peace,’ she shouted back, lookin very distracted.
I turned an headed fer the door. ‘Right, go yerself. Ye won’t do anythin, ye just want te sit there on yer arse.’ An I ran out the door, not listenin or carin when she screamed she was goin te tell tha aul fella on me.
I wandered up Talbot Street, headin fer the pillar. The old woman was sittin there under it sellin her flowers. I looked up at it. The height of it. Some people paid sixpence te climb te the top of it an look down on O’Connell Street. The people looked like ants when ye look down, someone once said. Ye can see the city fer miles aroun, I believe. An sometimes people even go up Nelson’s Pillar te throw themselves down. I heard one person threw himself off an landed on the poor woman’s flowers. An she’s still not the better of it. Then I looked at her, but she still goes on sellin her flowers.
I wandered on up Henry Street, past Moore Street on me right. Them dealers would give ye a dig if ye tried te pick up one of the apples tha rolled on the ground. It happened te me once. I bent down te pick the apple offa the ground an put it te me mouth, an the aul one snatched it back before I had a chance te get a bite an screamed, ‘Go on, get outa tha! I’m not here fer the good a me health ye know!’
I looked at Woolworths on me left, not botherin te go in. Lookin at all them millions of sweets sittin in their glass cases would torment me. I walked on, comin te Mary Street, an stopped, waitin te cross the road. A woman on the other side was agitated. Her head was swingin from left te right, an then she’d fix her scarf on her chin te tighten it an then clamp her hands on the handlebars of the go-car wit two babbies sittin on top of each other. The older babby of about sixteen months old was holdin on te the bars fer dear life. An the babby, about six months old, was screamin an kickin, tryin te knock him off. An then she’d look aroun her at the other three, not much older. An then make a run at the road, tryin te stop the traffic wit the go-car, only te have te make a run back fer the footpath. She almost made it te the middle of the road only te turn aroun when she heard the screams of the kids. Two were still stuck on the footpath, fixin themselves te make a run fer it, an the third was trailin behind her, screamin his head off wit fright an not knowin which way te run. She pulled the go-car back, givin it an almighty yank, nearly knockin the babby out who was sittin on the edge. An his face was purple, an he was lookin at his hands on the bars te make sure he had a tight grip. An he was sobbin, too shocked te even cry. The mammy yanked the little young fella, he was about two, off the ground by the scruff of his neck an hauled him back onta the footpath. ‘I’ll be done fer the lot of youse! I swear I will!’ she screamed, lookin at them an then lookin te see if there was another gap in the traffic.
She steadied herself, straightenin her back an straightenin her shoulders, an whippin her chin up an down te keep her scarf on, an, grippin the handlebars, made another run fer the middle of the road. Knowin once ye got there, the traffic has te stop an let ye pass! She looked aroun screamin, ‘Come on! Come on! Stay wit me, we’re nearly there!’ An the three little childre galloped behind their ma, their chins pushed out an their shoulders pushed back, flickin their eyes left an right, an their faces were red, an they were holdin their breath. An when they landed on the footpath, the mammy turned on them, screamin out her breath. ‘One of these days youse are all goin te get me kilt! An I swear I’ll be hanged fer the lot of ye’s if tha happens!’ Then she stopped, feelin better, an said, ‘Come on! Stay wit me, an I’ll buy ye’s all an icepop.’ An the childre’s faces lit up, an they were laughin wit happiness. I was so busy watchin all this, I forgot te cross the road. I shook meself an dipped out under the traffic, makin the cars screech te a halt, an carried on up Mary Street.
I stopped outside a grocery shop an looked in. It was a bit dark, but there was loads a food stacked along the shelves, an it wasn’t an ordinary shop wit everythin behind the counter. Ye could walk in an help yerself te whatever ye wanted an pay the woman sittin beside the door wit the cash register in front of her. I wandered inta the shop, an it was empty. There was only one woman mindin the cash register an another woman leanin on the counter, an their heads were pushed together tellin each other news. I stopped beside a big box of real butter. Four shillins an sixpence fer a pound! Gawd! Tha’s very expensive altogether. Nobody could afford tha in a million years. I picked one up an felt the weight of it an the colour! Wouldn’t I just love te lather tha on a big chunk of black-crusted fresh loaf bread an eat the lot till I had me fill. I put the packet te me nose, an smelt the butter. Gawd! What it must be like te be rich!
I looked aroun me. The women were still leanin their heads inta each other an whisperin like mad. I grabbed two pounds an put one under each arm an folded me arms across me chest, tryin te hide the butter, an slid down the shop, not makin a sound in me bare feet. An I glued me eyes on the women, ready te drop the butter an run fer me life. I slid past them, an they didn’t even look up, an outa the shop an ran fer all I was worth, turnin left, past the Corporation Office on me right, where ye go when ye want te get a new house. An turned right down Capel Street, past the aul Jewish junk shops, where ye could buy a pram, or table an chairs, or whatever ye wanted, if ye had the money. I ran on, feelin the lovely weight of the good butter under me arms. I finally stopped when I hit the buildins.
I sat outside the gates on the footpath, lookin aroun te make sure no one was watchin me. Big young ones or young fellas could try te rob me. I looked at the butter an thought about it. I’d have te rob the black crusty fresh loaf if I wanted te taste the butter! Tha’s no good. Me ma only buys stale loaf bread, cos it lasts longer. Ye can’t cut fresh loaf. It goes te pieces. If I bring this home, she’ll spare it fer tha bandy aul fella. An we wouldn’t get a look in. Too bad!
I thought fer a minute an then jumped up. I raced inta the buildins an knocked on a woman’s door. I knew she had a husband workin an a son an daughter even bringin in money! ‘Mrs, me ma sent me up te know if ye want te take this butter offa her. She bought it on the St Vincents voucher fer nine shillins, but she’ll let ye have it fer seven shillins, cos she needs the money. An you’ll be savin two shillins, Mam!’
She looked at me, te see if I was tellin the truth, an then looked down at the butter an said, ‘All right, then, wait there until I see if I have tha much.’ Me heart gladdened, an I waited, holdin in me breath in case she didn’t have the money. ‘Here ye are,’ she said, comin out holdin her purse an openin the door wider. I could smell somethin lovely cookin. She opened her purse an smiled, lookin at the butter, an counted out two half-crowns an a two shillin piece. ‘Seven shillins altogether, wasn’t tha it?’
‘Yes, Mrs!’ I said, shakin me head up an down, handin her the butter an takin the money.
I raced down the stone stairs, takin them two at a time, feelin the weight of the money clenched in me fist, an banged on the door. ‘Ma! Ma! Let me in, it’s me.’
She opened the door, an I rushed past her. ‘What ails ye? Wha’s wrong?’ she said, lookin worried.
‘Look! Lookit what I got fer ye!’ Her eyes opened wide as she took the money from me hand.
‘Where did ye get tha?’ she asked, laughin. An I told her the story. She listened an then shook her head an said, ‘You’d want te mind yerself. If they catch ye, ye’ll be put away an locked up in a home.’
I was quiet then, thinkin about this. It was true. Most of the young fellas in the buildins were put away te Daingean an Letterfrack, an tha was the last ye saw of them. An they were never the same again. Then I looked at me ma’s face. An she was happy, an I thought it was worth all the trouble just te see her smile. Cos when she’s happy, I’m happy, an everythin is grand. ‘Ma,’ I said, ‘don’t let Jackser get his hands on the money.’
‘Don’t you worry,’ she said, lookin very serious. ‘I’ll have it well hidden!’
When Jackser found out about the money fer the butter, his eyes lit up! He started snufflin an shook himself an rubbed his hands together. ‘By God, Sally! This could be the answer te our prayers!’
I looked but said nothin. Me heart was sinkin. I told me ma not te tell him. But now I could sense real trouble. Ye can’t trust me ma!
‘You go out tomorrow an get as much butter as ye can. There’s plenty a people’d take it off ye. Go early in the mornin. It’s Saturday, an everyone will be gettin their messages. The shops will be so crowded they won’t see ye puttin the butter in the bag. Now remember! Get all ye can! An when ye get the few bob, go back again an get yer hands on some grub. Bring back as much messages as ye can get.’
I felt sick. The room was spinnin wit the shock I’m in. I won’t be able te do it! I’ll get caught an be sent away. Locked up till I’m sixteen. If I don’t do it, God knows wha Jackser will do te the lot of us. I looked at me ma. She was happy. She’s worse than a child, I thought. I wanted te scream at her. Tell her she’s me mammy. She’s supposed te be mindin us. But she’s so fuckin lazy. I wish I had nothin te do wit her.
I set off at half-nine, headin fer Henry Street. I was shiverin an shakin. I looked at meself in a big plate-glass winda as I passed a big shop on Talbot Street. I was white as a sheet. I’ll be spotted right away, cos I’m too poor lookin wit me black bare feet te be shoppin in the supermarket. These people know tha. I rushed on, across Nelson’s Pillar an up Henry Street. I went down the alleyway an in through the side door te Woolworths. I need a shoppin bag. It was still early. Not too many people. The crowds wouldn’t pick up until later. I moved aroun slowly, lookin fer the bags. Keepin an eye on the shop workers fillin the shelves. Then I spotted them. I lifted down a brown leather one wit a zip across. Ye wouldn’t be able te see wha’s inside it. I put me arm through the two straps an headed fer the door, slowly browsin me way out an actin as if the bag was me own te get the messages. No one spotted me. I was out.
I went quickly back up the alley an headed across the road te the supermarket. I wasn’t used te these places an looked aroun te see how it operates. There’s cash registers all in a line, an women sit at them. Ye can walk out the way ye came in, but people line up at the cash registers an pay fer their messages an come out through tha way. I headed off te find the butter. It was in a cold fridge. I opened the bag, pullin back the zip, an looked aroun te see if anyone was watchin. A woman was comin, holdin her shoppin basket under her arm an puttin messages inta it. I can’t do anythin until she goes. I better get meself a shoppin basket, or I’ll look suspicious.
I had me shoppin basket in me right arm an me shoppin bag open on me left arm. I put four pounds of butter in the basket an followed behind the shoppers. When no one was behind me, I lifted two pounds a butter an dropped them inta me bag until I had the four in. Then I went back an got another four an did the same thing again. But it takes time, an then I saw a shop assistant lookin at me. She was suspicious. I saw the way she looked at me bare feet. So I picked up a packet of cornflakes an put it in the basket an decided te move on. It’s time te leave! I had the zip closed on me bag, hidin the eight pounds of butter, an moved aroun the shop, slowly bidin me time, makin sure no one was followin me. An then I saw me opportunity. A crowd of people started comin in, an I moved over quickly an pushed me way through them an out the door.
I walked on, shakin inside meself, the back of me rigid, waitin te be grabbed. Nothin happened. I was safe. I turned down Moore Street an walked on, headin fer a laneway. I went down te the end of the laneway an looked aroun. Under the wheels of tha car is the best place. I can hide it there, an then go back fer more. An when I’ve enough, I can head off te sell it.
I went back up te Henry Street but didn’t go back te the same shop. I’ll give it a rest, just in case. I headed inta another supermarket, an now it was gettin crowded. Tha was more difficult. Too many people watchin. I put eight pounds a butter in the basket this time an drew attention from the women shoppin. So I moved aroun wit the crowd, everyone headin in the same direction, an did nothin until I was sure tha suspicious woman wasn’t watchin me. Then when I got stuck in a crowd of people, I didn’t look down but held me hand on two pounds a butter an lifted it inta me bag, holdin it open wit me left arm. No one looked down, cos we were all squashed together, tryin te shuffle in the same direction. I left the eight pounds a butter wit the other lot, under the wheels of the car, an went back again te the same shop.
By the time I was finished, it was after two o’clock, an I had fortytwo pounds of butter. I headed fer the flats an knocked on doors, tellin people the same story about the St Vincents food voucher an buyin butter instead. By four o’clock, I had all the butter sold an made seven guineas. Tha’s seven pounds an seven shillins. I went inta a shop on Talbot Street an changed the silver fer a huge five pound note an two single pound notes, an put them together – this was fer them. An I kept the silver – two half-crowns an the two shillin piece fer meself.
I headed back up te Henry Street an inta Woolworths, an got meself a purse te hold me money. An then I spotted a lovely red pair a sandals an put them in me bag. An then I saw a lovely pair a white socks. I put them in me bag, an just as I was about te leave, a man grabbed me an said, ‘Come with me!’ I knew straight away he’d seen me, an I tried te escape, but he pulled me along. An I went hysterical.
He lifted me off the ground an tried te carry me in his arms. But I was so frightened, I kicked an bucked, an I was screamin fer me mammy te help me. A crowd a people gathered aroun us, an the women started shoutin at the man te let me go. He was very nervous but wouldn’t let go of me waist. I was screamin an cryin, an doin me best te fight him. An the women went mad an started hittin him te let me go. An then he dropped me, an the women grabbed me an pushed me out the door. An blocked him, shoutin, ‘You’ve little te be doin pickin on a poor hungry child! Let her go! Whatever she has belongin te ye won’t break ye!’
I flew out the door, me feet not touchin the ground, an kept runnin down alleyways an up back streets until I found meself at Jervis Street, outside the hospital. I slumped te the ground, covered in sweat. I was soakin, an me chest was heavin up an down wit the pain in it. An I was snow white. When I was a lot better, I opened me bag an tried on the sandals. They were a grand fit, only a tiny bit too big. I looked at them, red an brand new. But somehow they weren’t worth it. An I felt as if things would never be the same. Everythin had changed, an I didn’t like it. I stood up after puttin the shoes an socks back in me bag an moved off, headin back up te Henry Street, keepin away from Woolworths.
Jackser said I’m te bring back food, so I headed inta the first supermarket. The one I went inta early this mornin. An took a shoppin trolley on wheels. I filled it wit packets of expensive back rashers an pounds a sausages. An packets a eggs, an tea, an sugar. An boxes of cheese, an two pounds of butter. An cornflakes, an jam, an biscuits, an chocolates fer the childre, big bars! An when I had everythin, I waited me opportunity an slipped the trolley out the way ye come in an over te the counter at the back of the wall, an joined the other people all puttin their messages in their shoppin bags. I filled me bag te the brim an carried all the rest under me other arm.
The weight of the bag dragged me down sideways, nearly hittin the ground, twistin me head an back. It was too heavy. Just like the butter, all forty-two pounds of it! But I’d have te manage. I struggled out the door, tryin not te drop anythin, an headed down towards the pillar. I had te keep stoppin every few minutes fer a rest. Me arms was like lead, an me back an neck was burnin. I made it as far as Cafolla’s an looked in. This is what I’ve always wanted te do. An in I went an sat down at a table. An fixed me shoppin on a chair beside me an ordered beans an chips an a fried egg. When it arrived, I looked at it. The egg was snow white, an ye could see the lovely yella soft yolk underneath the white. I lifted me knife an fork, an started te eat it.
‘Do ye want anythin else?’ the waitress asked me.
‘Yeah! I’ll have a plate a bread an a pot a tea.’ The soft egg, mixed wit the chips an beans, slid down me neck. An a bite of white soft bread an a sip a hot tea, wit plenty a milk (me ma always spares the milk!) an two big spoons a sugar. (She saves the sugar fer Jackser!) Well ... well, this was heaven! I cleaned the plate wit the last bit a me bread, an supped the tea, drainin the pot, an then sat back, still feelin I could eat another plate. But it was very expensive! An I sat back te watch the Saturday shoppers all millin past the café, anxious te get their final messages fer the week an somethin fer the Sunday dinner. The peace tha came over me was like I’d died an gone te heaven. I was very still in meself an felt a light buzzin in me chest of happiness. Not a care in the world. Just a quiet feelin of bein still. It was all over, an I’m safe!
I paid five shillins outa the seven shillins I kept back fer meself, an saved the two shillins, hidin it in me new socks so Jackser or me ma wouldn’t get their hands on it. An then started on me struggle again, turnin down fer Talbot Street. I would try te move fast an keep goin, but it was no good. I had te keep stoppin, just like I did wit the butter.
When I finally made it te the door, it was whipped open without me bangin. They were waitin an watchin fer me. ‘Holy Jaysus!’ Jackser roared, delighted. ‘Man alive! Did ye bring back the fuckin shop wit ye?’ An he started snufflin an jerkin his arm up an down, an lookin wit his eyes out on stalks.
Me ma came rushin over te the table as I landed the bag on the floor an dropped the stuff outa me stiff arm. I felt like concrete. I handed her the purse wit the seven pounds, an Jackser roared, ‘Fuck me blind! The young one’s a topper!’
I helped me ma te unload the bag, an the childre all crowded aroun the table, screamin wit excitement. Charlie was hummin anxiously in case he was left out. I pulled out the bars a chocolate – an the screams, an the hands out, an pushin an shovin! ‘Me! Me!’ tha’s all I could hear as I gave them one each. Then they rushed off te sit in corners away from each other an take off the silver paper, watchin each other like hawks in case anyone robbed them. Me ma was all excited an laughin. An Jackser was shakin his head an sayin, ‘Tha’s wha some workin men bring home in a week, after a hard day’s graft!’
I collapsed on top of the bed, leanin meself against the wall, too drained te move a muscle. An just watched everyone. Te have everyone so happy was a great feelin. But I was very glad it was all over. I couldn’t ever go through tha again.
‘Listen!’ Jackser said te me, snufflin an jerkin his arm. ‘I’ve been thinkin! We’re onta a good thing here.’ I went rigid, lookin over at him, waitin te hear wha he was goin te say. ‘People get paid on a Friday, an tha’s when they go te do their shoppin. So ye could do the two days, then we’d have the double amount of money an twice as much food. An we’d be on the pig’s back, an we’d never worry again!’
So now, every week, twice a week, Friday an Saturday, I have te go out an rob the butter te bring back the money an the food te Jackser an me ma. When the shops get suspicious of me, I know they’re watchin an just waitin te catch me. So I can’t go back there fer a while. I have te find new shops. I’m all the time lookin an readin the paper te see if any new supermarkets are openin. I travel on the bus te Rathfarnham an walk from there te Churchtown. I go out te Ballyfermot, but tha’s no good. Ye’re watched like a hawk. I go anywhere te find butter. I went te Blackrock, but tha’s a small place wit only one supermarket, an after one day, they’d notice ye, an I’d be caught. Sometimes I’m walkin fer miles. It might be cold an pourin rain, but I have te keep goin. Jackser expects me te bring home the money. An me life wouldn’t be worth livin if I didn’t. An me ma would go mad, too. She’d go off inta her own world, an it would be terrible te see her like tha, not botherin te even look at us.
Things go wrong, too! I might find a quiet laneway wit cars parked down them, an hide the butter under the wheels of a car only te come back an find the butter squashed when the car drives off! Or maybe someone found it, an now it’s gone! An I have te start again. Sometimes me customers might only want one pound a butter instead of two or even three. An then I have te search fer new customers, all the time, draggin the heavy bag.
I bring back fourteen pounds a week. An eight te ten pounds’ worth a messages. An toys fer the childre. But it’s never enough! As soon as I get in the door, me ma wants te know if I got the new jumper she wanted. ‘I couldn’t, Ma! They were watchin me.’ An she turns away in disgust, not happy. Jackser takes the money an wants te know if I could go in on a Thursday as well, cos they need a few extra bob. ‘The shops are quiet, Jackser. An I wouldn’t have the customers!’ I plead.
‘Well, give it a fuckin try anyway!’ he roars at me.
Me nerves are gone. I shake all the time. An me head never stops splittin me wit the pain. The only good day is Sunday, when it’s all over. But then Monday comes, an I’m down on me knees prayin te God an his Holy Mother te grant tha I won’t be caught. I feel sick all the time. An on Friday mornin on the way in te the shops, I have te stop te vomit me guts up. This hell I’m in never stops. It just goes on an on. I don’t play wit the other childre now, cos I’m kept in te mind the childre an the room while Jackser an me ma goes off fer the day. He goes drinkin, an me ma just sits wit him.
He bought her a new coat, a red one wit a fur collar, an himself a Crombie coat, an a pair of jockey trousers, an a new pair of leather jockey boots te match. One way or the other, the money is gone by Wednesday. Or they might even spend it all in one day. Me ma complains she’s fed up eatin rashers an eggs an sausages, an eatin mince stews. But she can’t cook anythin else, an I don’t know wha te bring her. She can’t cook the sausages. She just gives them a look at the fryin pan an then throws them on the plate lookin snow white an completely raw. An she drops a half-dozen eggs on the fryin pan at the same time an mashes them aroun wit the knife, an then dumps them onta the plate full a black grease. An then says, ‘Call him fer his dinner!’ So we are no better fed, cos he gets most of it.