I woke up sensin there was somethin different. Me eyes looked aroun the room. It was quiet! Me ma! Where’s me ma? I shot up in the bed. She’s gone! Me heart started poundin, an I jumped outa the bed. I wanted te scream, ‘Help! Me ma’s gone! She’s left me!’ But I held it back, an I was makin keenin noises outa me chest. No! No! Maybe she’s just gone out te the tilet. I opened the door an listened. Nothin, not a sound, it was too quiet. I wanted te go out an look, but I’m afraid someone will see me. I don’t want te talk te anyone. I shut the door, easy, an crept back over te the bed. Why would she leave me? An where’s she gone? If she was comin back, she’d a woke me an told me te wait. Maybe she got fed up wit me not wantin te say much. An I wasn’t bothered about gettin us anythin or even comin up wit ways te get us some money. I didn’t listen when she kept complainin te herself about what are we goin te do, an the money is nearly runnin out.
In another two days, the landlady will be after us fer the rent. An I don’t know wha we’re goin te do then! Maybe tha’s why she’s gone an left me. Cos I’m only draggin outa her now. I’m no help any more. Yeah! Tha’s wha’s happened. She’s decided she’s better off on her own. I heard noises out the winda, an I looked out, hopin it was me ma. No! Only two women stoppin te talk te each other an laughin. One was holdin a shoppin basket wit vegebales an fruit stickin out. Me heart dropped, an I leaned me head against the winda, feelin like a babby, keenin an moanin, ‘Ma! Mammy! Where are ye, Ma? I want ye. Don’t leave me, Ma!’ I was moanin quietly, knowin nobody could hear me, cos I didn’t want anyone te see me actin foolish. But it helped me, an rockin meself backward an forward stopped me from losin me head an goin mad wit the fear. I kept rockin meself fer an awful long time. An me moanin an keenin has stopped. An I’m just rockin gently an listenin te me breathin an watchin the daylight goin. An the street lamps are comin on, an it’s beginnin te drizzle. People are hurryin an puttin up umbrellas an tryin te hold them te stop them blowin away. An it’s gettin very windy, an suddenly it’s gettin darker. An I look aroun at the door, an no one is goin te come in, an I’m safe in here. The landlady won’t knock, cos she won’t bother until Saturday, when she’s due the rent again. So I’m OK.
I sat meself in the middle of the bed, restin me chin on me knees, an held onta me legs tight. Rockin meself an hummin, ‘I see the moon! The moon sees me!’ I keep hummin an hummin. I liked tha song. I used te sing it when I was very young an I was happy, just me an me ma, an me aunt Nelly an me cousin Barney. Me heart is jerkin at the thought of them times. I want them back, I want te be happy again. But noooo ... they’re gone. I’m singin te meself, an now the tears are pourin down me cheeks. An I want someone te hear me. Maybe God is listenin! Or someone who won’t laugh at me an think I’m foolish. Maybe there’s a ghost in the room. I look aroun seein the walls an the little brown wardrobe. An lookin at the chair wit me frock an me cardigan sittin on it, an me shoes wit the big holes in them. One is sittin on its side, an I stare at the big hole, then I look at the dark corners of the room. I’m not afraid if there’s a ghost. Cos it might even be like Casper, the friendly ghost in the comic books. He won’t laugh at me or call me names or try an hurt me. He’ll like me, an we can play together. He’d talk te me an tell me all sorts a things. An he’d treat me like I’m not any different from other people. An when I’d cry, he’d know it’s cos I’m very sad cos nobody’s really bothered about me. Yeah! That’d be nice.
It’s very dark now, an I listen. No, there’s nobody here. No Casper, no ghost, an God’s not listenin, or he wouldn’t leave me on me own. I rubbed me arms, an they’re like ice. It’s only just hittin me now, I’m freezin wit the cold. I move up an cover meself wit the sheet an blankets. An curl meself inta a ball. Ah! Tha’s better. I’ll have a good sleep fer meself, an I know what I’ll do. Tomorrow I’ll go out an look fer me mammy. I’ll keep on walkin the streets until I find her. An I won’t talk te anybody, cos tha’s too dangerous. Yeah! Tha’s what I’ll do. An I felt meself liftin. I know wha te do.
I was fast asleep when the light suddenly went on an me ma appeared outa nowhere. I lifted me head tryin te see, but the light was blindin me. ‘Is tha you, Ma?’ I was shieldin me eyes, an they were stingin me.
‘Yeah! I’m back!’ she said, smilin. Me heart leapt wit excitement. An then I had the fear I might be just dreamin.
‘Am I awake, Ma?’ I asked her, lookin inta her face te make sure she was real.
‘Wha’s wrong wit ya?’ she asked, laughin. ‘Were ye fast asleep?’
I looked at her puttin down a loaf a bread an a little box a cheese. An a bottle a milk an a bar a chocolate. An a big packet a newspapers filled wit fish an chips. She put them all on the bed. ‘Tha bread an cheese will do us in the mornin,’ she said, takin off her coat. I watched her in wonder. She looked very happy, an I couldn’t believe all this was happenin te me. ‘Come on!’ she said. ‘Eat these while they’re still hot.’ An she opened the newspaper an handed me a big piece a fish.
The smell nearly kilt me. I took a big bite, an it was gone down me neck in only a few chews. An I polished the rest off an dipped me hand in the newspaper again an took out a handful of chips. ‘Here!’ me ma said, handin me the bottle a milk. ‘Take a sip a this. Oh! I’m enjoyin this, them chips is lovely,’ she said, puttin a handful in her mouth.
‘Where were ye, Ma? I was worried!’
‘Wha?’ she said.
‘Why did ye go off on yer own without tellin me?’
‘Ah! I had te hurry, an you were sleepin. An I knew I’d be quicker on me own!’
‘But where did ya go te?’
‘Ah! Don’t be talkin,’ me ma said, laughin. ‘Where didn’t I get te, would be more the question. Look!’ she said. ‘We’ve plenty a money.’ An she counted out eleven pounds!
‘Where did ye get all a tha money?’ I whispered, not believin me eyes.
‘Well! First, I went down te the Welfare Office an got money offa them fer the rent. Tha aul one gave me a letter statin we’re livin here. An money fer our keep. Then I went te see someone I used te know, an I got a few pounds from them. An I went inta a café in one a them big shops. An they were offerin work in the kitchen. So I started tha straight away.’ Then she started laughin an nearly choked on a chip. ‘Jaysus!’ she said, wipin her nose an eyes wit the sleeve of her cardigan. ‘They put me in the scullery wit a mile long a pots an pans, an gave me a big rubber apron, down te me ankles, an a huge pair a rubber boots, an told me te get crackin. I thought the money was grand until I saw what I was lettin meself in fer! I was swimmin in water. “Ah, no!” I said, after I dragged meself up on me feet after then scrubbin huge floors. “This won’t suit me at all. Ye can give me the wages I’ve earned, I’m not comin back.”’
I couldn’t believe me ma took a job! I didn’t think she had tha in her. I looked at her in wonder. She seemed different somehow, younger! ‘How old are ye, Ma?’
‘Who, me?’ me ma asked. ‘Eh! I’m twenty-seven.’
‘Tha’s young, Ma! Not very old at all,’ I said, thinkin me ma could look lovely if she did herself up. ‘Ma! We’ll be able te pay the rent!’
‘Wha? No! We’re not stayin here. Tomorrow, we’ll go te Shepherd’s Bush te the markets. An we’ll go te Petticoat Lane. We need te get ourselves a few clothes. I’ll be glad te see the back a these rags we’re wearin. Then on Saturday, we’ll head off te Birmingham. Come on. I’m gettin inta bed before the legs drop offa me.’ An she tidied away the food an put the papers under the bed. An put out the light an pulled off her frock an climbed in beside me. I snuggled up te her back, feelin I was on top of the world an God is lookin after us, an I was happy knowin He’s still there.
We got off the bus at Shepherd’s Bush markets. An me ma was in a hurry. ‘Come on, Martha!’ she said, laughin, an her head was flyin from one side te the other tryin te decide wha te look at first. ‘Ah! We need te get ourselves a bag,’ she said, rushin off.
‘Wait, Ma, I don’t want te get lost!’
‘Come on,’ she said, hurryin. ‘We’ve nothin te carry the stuff in.’ She flew past stalls, an then her eyes lit on a pile a suitcases an shoppin bags an handbags. Me ma picked up a big suitcase an winked at me. The market was crowded, but there was only another woman beside us browsin at the handbags. An the owner was sittin on a big high stool drinkin a mug a tea an suckin on a cigarette. He was watchin his stuff like a hawk.
‘Come on, Ma,’ I said, pullin her sleeve.
‘Ah, wait,’ she said, smilin. ‘Gimme time.’ Then she picked up a big leather shoppin bag. ‘How much is this? Eh, Mister?’ An she gave a little cough an a laugh.
Yer man held the cigarette in the corner of his mouth, closin one eye against the smoke pourin in an sized me ma up wit the other. ‘Ten bob! An that’s cheap. You’ll pay fifteen bob in the High Street.’ He saw me ma’s face drop. ‘But I’ll tell yer wot I’ll do! I’ll let yer have it fer eight bob. An I’m robbin meself. But I likes the look a you!’
‘Come on, Ma!’ I roared, an I moved off.
‘Ah, tha’s very dear!’ me ma said te me back as I walked off.
I walked up a bit an waited fer her te catch up. ‘Did ye not like tha, Martha? Tha bag would suit us grand,’ she said, chewin her lip.
‘No, Ma! We can’t afford te pay tha kind a money on just a bag. An tha fella is a robber.’
‘Yeah! Pity, though,’ me ma said, lookin woebegone. ‘But we need te see if we can get somethin te carry stuff in first.’
‘Yeah! Wait until there’s a crowd aroun him, then we’ll whip it,’ I said.
We moved on, stoppin at a stall wit mounds a clothes. ‘Look at this!’ me ma said, liftin up a brown coat tha was doin the rounds when Queen Victoria was livin. ‘Go on! Try it on,’ me ma said. ‘It’ll keep ye nice an warm. There’s nothin wrong wit it.’
I put the coat on, an it had a mangy fur collar. It felt damp, an the linin was torn, an there was a hole in one of the pockets. It was faded an old lookin, like it had definitely seen better days. ‘Tha’s grand on ye,’ me ma said, standin back te look.
‘Yeah, OK, Ma, it will do,’ I said, lookin up te see if there was anyone watchin. I kept the coat on an moved away. I had no intention of even givin the time a day fer the coat never mind partin wit money.
I looked back te see how things were at the bag stall, an there was a few people moochin aroun. The owner was arguin the price wit a man holdin a suitcase. He was puttin it down an walkin off, an yer man was chasin him wit the case. ‘All right! All right! I’ll tell yer wot I’ll do.’ An the man turned back.
‘Quick, Ma! Grab the bag!’ I flew down lookin fer it, an me ma rushed over, pickin it up from the back.
‘Here it is!’ she whispered, liftin her eyebrows an lookin aroun te see if anyone was watchin.
‘Give it te me!’ an I grabbed the bag, puttin it down by me side an throwin a glance at yer man who was still arguin an pushin the suitcase inta the other man’s hand. His back was turned te me. An I turned aroun an slowly headed off in the opposite direction. We kept walkin until we were outa sight an then stopped at a stall wit a huge mountain a clothes. I couldn’t reach up. ‘Tha’s beautiful,’ me ma said, pickin up a jumper fer herself an rollin it inta a ball, an winkin down at me, an flickin it over the edge te land in the new bag. I was holdin it open! Nobody could see me over the clothes. So all I had te do was wait fer them te drop an catch them in the bag an squash them down in the blink of an eye an wait fer more.
‘How much is them lovely sheets over there, Mrs?’ me ma said, pointin te the back of the woman. Skirts, slips, knickers an shoes landed in me bag. An shoes banged me in the face, cos me ma was busy concentratin on the woman. I leaned forward te catch the stuff fallin te the ground an got the buckle of a belt in the eye. ‘Ah, no, not them, the other ones!’ me ma roared te the woman.
I had te slap the leg of a fat woman tha was standin on me hand. ‘Ah, my Gawd!’ she screamed, jumpin back an lookin at me.
‘Sorry, Mrs! I’m tryin te fix me shoe, an ye stood on me.’ I jumped up, liftin the heavy bag twice the size of meself, an took off lookin like I was goin on me holidays wit all the clothes. Me ma hurried after me, an I was strugglin wit two hands tryin te carry it. ‘Grab the bag, Ma!’ I puffed. An she looked back te make sure no one was after us an grabbed the bag, hurryin off laughin.
We kept movin. Then I spotted a stall wit boxes a soap an lovely smellin things, an I stopped te get a look, sayin, ‘Wait, Ma, look!’
‘There’s towels,’ me ma said, eyein the pile a new towels. I picked up a box of smellin stuff wit soap an slid it under me arm. Then I examined a towel, an when no one was lookin, I folded it up an moved off. ‘Come on,’ me ma said. ‘We have enough.’
We got off the bus in Paddington an hurried back te the room. Me ma emptied the bag out onta the bed. I grabbed a frock an held it up te get a look. Me ma was examinin a black skirt. ‘How does this look, Ma?’ I said, standin back an straightenin meself up.
‘It’s a bit big fer ye.’
I looked. Yeah, it’s fer a big young one twice the size a me. It was swimmin on me an halfway down me legs. ‘Here!’ me ma said. ‘Put them on ya.’ I tried on a big blue pair a knickers, an the legs dropped down past me knees.
I kept lookin at them. ‘These are fer women, Ma. They don’t fit me!’ I said, disappointed.
Me ma was tryin te squeeze herself inta the black skirt. ‘They’ll keep ye warm,’ me ma said, puttin her hand on her mouth an laughin.
‘Ye’re makin a laugh a me!’ I roared.
‘No!’ she said, searchin fer the other stockin an lookin at me holdin up me frock an starin at the size of me knickers. ‘Where’s the other nylon te go wit this?’ An she held up the stockin. ‘Ah! There it is!’ I watched her puttin on the nylons. I’d never seen her put anythin on her legs before. ‘Ah, fuck!’ she said when she stood up te admire herself an the nylons fell down. ‘I’ve nothin te hold them up wit!’ I picked up a big red, white an blue jumper wit Ba, Ba, Black Sheep on it. I pulled it over me head, an it went down te me knees.
I stood back, wonderin if I was lovely in it or not. ‘Wha do ye think, Ma?’
‘Eh! It’s lovely! Keep ye nice an warm.’ I examined her face te see if she was tellin the truth. She put her hand te her mouth an turned away.
‘Where’s the jumper I got fer meself?’ she said, buryin her head in the clothes. ‘Ah! Here it is!’ An she held up a tight-fittin baby-blue jumper an held it up te the skirt.
‘Ye’re laughin at me, Ma!’ I roared. ‘Cos ye know I look like someone let outa Grangegorman fer the day!’
Me ma roared laughin. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Keep lookin! There must be somethin decent here te wear. Oh, look! There’s a lovely pair a navy-blue gaiters tha should fit ye.’
I whipped the trousers on, an the strap under me feet was a bit long, an they hung down in rolls. I’m not wearin them. They’re too big. I whipped them off. ‘Do ye like tha?’ me ma asked, standin back te admire her jumper an skirt.
‘Yeah! But ye’re all hangin down in the front, Ma.’
‘Hold on,’ she said. ‘There must be a brassiere here somewhere. I know I saw one. I had it in me hand a minute ago. Oh, look, Martha! Here’s the boots I got ya. They should fit ya.’
I looked at them. All fur on the inside an a zip up the side. I shot me feet inta them an zipped them up, lookin down at meself. They were grand, just a little bit big. But they didn’t look right wit me bare legs an frock. Somethin was missin. I whipped them off an put the trousers back on an took off the frock. An now I was standin in me boots wit the trousers pushed inside them an the jumper on top. An I stood back happily. ‘Wha do ye think, Ma?’
‘Yeah! Them’s lovely!’
I walked up an down, feelin inches bigger in me furry boots. An I was lovely an warm in me knickers an trousers. An the jumper looked lovely now, over me trousers.
‘Wha do ye think of this?’ me ma said, smilin an lookin down at herself, movin from side te side.
‘God, Ma! Ye look lovely! Did ye get the jacket te match?’
‘Yeah!’ she said. ‘It’s a suit.’
I stood back lookin at the lovely black suit. The jacket fitted her grand, an she looked lovely in the jumper. An her diddies were standin up an pointin wit the brassiere on, an I’d never seen her look like tha before. ‘Wait till ye see these,’ an she put on a pair of black patent high-heel shoes an tried te balance herself walkin up an down. She kept wobblin, an I roared laughin. ‘Come on,’ she said, takin them off, ‘before I break me neck. Let’s put these away, an we’ll go up te tha Woolworths. There’s a few things I need. I want te get a bit of elastic te keep me nylons up. An we’ll buy a comb. An I might even get a tube a lipstick. Then we’ll get somethin te eat. We’ll get ourselves fish an chips.’
‘Right, Ma. Hurry!’ I said, all excited.
The landlady slammed the front door after us as we left the house. ‘She’s ragin, Ma, cos ye didn’t give her the rent.’
‘Let her rage! We only stayed a few extra days.’
We made our way fer the bus. Me ma tryin te balance on her high heels. ‘Take it easy! Stop pullin at me an hold the bag up. I’m goin te break me neck in these high heels,’ me ma roared.
‘I am, Ma! But we’ll never get te Euston station if ye don’t walk faster.’
‘Ah! Holy Jaysus, wait! Me nylons is slippin down.’
I dropped the handle of the bag te watch me ma. She took a quick look aroun te see if anyone was watchin an then pulled the stockins up under her skirt an put a tighter knot in the elastic. A big whistle came from somewhere, an me ma’s head spun aroun, an she tore her skirt down. ‘Cor! What a gorgeous bit a stuff!’ An aul fella pedallin his bicycle winked an nodded his head at me ma as he puffed past.
‘Ye dirty aul sod, ye!’ me ma roared after starin at him wit her mouth open. He turned his head back, blowin kisses at me ma. An she laughed an picked up the handle of the bag, sayin, ‘Go easy. We’ll get there if ye take yer time.’
The bus arrived, an we tried te get on. ‘Hold this! Take the bag!’ me ma said, tryin te grab a hold of the bar an haul herself up. I took the bag an watched her hoppin her leg up an down, tryin te get onta the platform. But her skirt was too tight. ‘Jaysus!’ she panted. ‘Give us a hand, Martha!’ but the conductor flew past me an grabbed me ma aroun the waist an hoisted her up wit his arms wrapped aroun her, an her exposin the tops of her stockins an the legs of her knickers. ‘Ah, Jaysus! Put me down,’ she laughed, tryin te fix her skirt an pull up the stockins tha rolled down. Everyone was leanin forward te get a good look. An the men clapped, an some of the older women muttered te each other tha she was disgraceful!
I walked down the bus lookin fer an empty seat, an everyone was laughin. ‘Wait, Martha,’ me ma roared, makin a show of me. An she was laughin, makin herself even more foolish. I sat down, pushin meself inta the winda an stared out, not mindin me ma talkin te herself an laughin about not bein used te the high heels.
The conductor came rushin up an wrapped his arm aroun the back of me ma. An rested himself against the seat an sang. ‘You are my heart’s desire,’ an then whispered somethin in her ear. Me ma roared laughin, delighted wit herself.
‘Oh! Tha’s shockin,’ she said. I ignored them, an the rest of the people, all gapin. I wish she wasn’t actin so foolish. Ye’d think she was a young one, the way she’s carryin on. Not like a mammy should.
‘Is this your little daughter?’ he asked me ma.
‘Eh?’ said me ma.
‘Yes, I am!’ I roared. An I was just about te tell him she had five more when I saw the look on me ma’s face. An I knew I’d hurt her. I’d said enough. An I turned back te the winda. They went quiet then an started talkin about the weather.
‘This is our stop,’ me ma said, gettin up. I took hold a the bag an dragged it down the bus, leavin the conductor te help me ma off.
‘Be seein you!’ he winked at me ma, holdin out his hands, still feelin the weight of me ma in them.
She was laughin. ‘Wait, take yer time!’ she said, clatterin after me. I was holdin the bag wit me two hands an tryin te get ahead so people wouldn’t know I was wit her. ‘Hold on, me nylons!’ An she stopped again te pull up her skirt.
‘Ah, fuck off!’ I screamed, makin a show of meself an not carin who heard me.
I puffed me way inta the station. This bleedin bag is too big an awkward te carry! I stopped an looked aroun, most of the seats was taken up. A lot a them by down an outs. I pushed past an aul woman takin up a whole bench te herself wit all her old newspapers an rags tied up wit bits a twine.
An aul fella in a dirty raincoat wit a shoppin bag under his arm an a greasy aul cap pulled down over his eyes, an a cigarette stickin outa his mouth, leanin against the pillar an watchin everythin goin on, spotted me, an his face lit up. I saw him look aroun te see if anyone was wit me. An he slowly made his way in my direction. I stopped an stared right back at him, givin him a dirty look. An he stopped an looked away, surprised I was onta him, but he didn’t move off. He would wait fer a chance te try an get me if he thought I was on me own. I watched the door, waitin fer me ma. ‘There ye are!’ she shouted, wavin an laughin at me. When she appeared, I watched yer man move off in a hurry an disappear out the other door when he saw I wasn’t on me own.
‘Come on, Ma. Let’s go inta the tilet, an you can change outa them things.’
‘Yeah! An it’s not soon enough fer me,’ she muttered.
‘Ah, tha’s more comfortable,’ she said, sittin down in her frock an coat an flat shoes. ‘We’ll sit down here an watch fer the train comin in. We can see wha’s happenin from here.
‘Right! The queue is beginnin te move, Martha. We’ll walk over slowly an wait our chance. You take one side of the bag, an as soon as he’s busy, we’ll make a move.’
‘Quick, Ma!’ We pushed forward as he was pointin out directions fer a train te some woman.
‘Platform four, Madam!’ he was sayin as he turned in our direction.
‘Keep movin, Ma. I think he’s seen us.’
‘Jaysus! Is he lookin?’
‘I don’t know. Let’s move faster.’
We were nearly gallopin, wit the bag bangin against me legs. I kept me eyes on the open door an held on until me ma jumped up, then I let go of the bag. Me ma nearly tumbled out wit the weight of it overbalancin her. She screamed an grabbed a hold of the bar, half in an half out. I rushed forward, givin her a push back, an she landed on her arse, takin the bag wit her. ‘Fuck ye, anyway!’ she roared at me, tryin te get up off her arse. ‘Ye nearly kilt me!’
‘Come on, Ma! Get up! Are ye hurt?’
‘No thanks te you I’m not!’ An she stood up, rubbin her back an arse, an brushed her coat down. ‘Come on, we’ll get an empty seat an have the bit a comfort while we can. He won’t be along fer a while.’
We were flyin outa London, an I sat back in me seat, enjoyin watchin all the houses an buildins flashin past, an smoke blowin outa the chimneys, when me ma stood up, gettin nervous. ‘Come on, Martha, we’d better go. We can’t take the chance of the ticket man catchin us here.’
‘No! Ye’re right,’ I said, lookin back at the people sittin in their comfortable seats, enjoyin themselves at their ease, lookin out the winda.
We made our way te the tilet an locked the door. ‘Say a prayer he doesn’t catch us,’ me ma said, leanin against the wall. I sat down on the bag, cos it was takin up most of the room, an we stayed quiet, waitin te hear the ticket collector. Charlie’s face came inta me mind, an me heart fell down inta me belly. An all the other childre. Oh, dear God, please look after them. If only we had them wit us. But we’d have nowhere te bring them. We have te try an find somewhere te live. Then me ma can take them as fast as possible. I feel terrible in meself, leavin them behind te the mercy of Jackser. But I couldn’t bear te stay wit him. I had te run an take me chances wit me ma. It’s hell on earth fer the poor little things not knowin wha’s happened te them. They must be sick an cryin day an night fer me ma. We have te do somethin. But wha? I’m afraid te ask me ma in case she takes it inta her head te run back te Jackser. So I’d better keep quiet. We have te find somewhere first an then start plannin. Yeah! We have te do tha. We sat lookin at each other an listenin. People moved up an down the passage, an then we’d hold our breath when we heard a knock. Time was passin, hours an hours. We didn’t talk, just sat, me ma dozin on her feet, restin her back against the wall.
At last the train pulled in. ‘We’re here, Ma!’
‘Right, get ready,’ me ma whispered.
She opened the door an went out first. ‘Come on!’ she whispered. ‘They’re gettin off.’
We walked wit the crowds an got through the ticket collectors, me goin first, an me ma pushin behind me. ‘We made it, Ma!’
‘Yeah! Let’s get a bus over te the Social Welfare.
‘This is it!’ me ma said, lookin up at the buildin. We went in, an me ma said, ‘You sit down here an mind the bag.’ She pointed te a bench. I sat down an watched me ma go over te a hatch an sit down talkin te a man. I tried te listen, but I can’t hear wha they’re sayin. The man was talkin te me ma an then lookin at me. I wonder should I go over an see if I can help her. The man keeps shakin his head like he’s sayin there’s nothin he can do. An me ma looks worried. She keeps lookin from side te side like she’s not able te get through te him. Then he gets up an walks aroun te me. An me ma gets up an comes over an takes the bag off me.
‘Will you come with me, please?’ an he takes me arm.
‘Eh, Martha!’ me ma is standin lookin like she’s in shock.
‘Wha, Ma? Wha’s happenin?’
‘Come with me, please,’ the man says, pullin me arm. I hesimitate, me heart in me mouth.
‘They’re sayin ye have te go inta a home until I find accommodation.’
‘A home, Ma!’ The room starts te blur, an me ma doesn’t know wha te say or do. I let meself get taken by the man inta an office. An he’s talkin on the telephone an says I’m te sit down on a chair at a table an wait. Me ears are roarin, an me heart is pumpin, an I can’t take in wha’s happenin. Time is passin, an I sit here while the man fiddles wit papers an writes an talks on the telephone. How did this happen? Why did we come here? Me ma said we’d get help, but this is worse than the police.
The door opened, an a woman wit grey hair an a thin baldin man wit glasses came in. They spoke te the man, tellin him I was goin te some place. But nothin they’re sayin is makin any sense te me. I can’t hear the words, only a buzzin noise in me head. I’m tryin te get me senses back, but everythin is just a confused jumble. ‘Come along!’ the woman says, wit a half-smile on her face. An she opens the door, waitin fer me te follow her. I move after her, keepin me eyes down. An we go out a different way. An I can’t see me mammy. ‘In you get!’ an the woman pushes me inta a car an gets in the back beside me.
The car moves off, an I don’t see anythin. I stare at me boots. Wha’s goin te happen te me? How long will they keep me? The car stops outside a big house, an a woman opens the door. She smiles, lookin down at me, an then te the grey-haired woman. I don’t look at her but past her inta an empty space. ‘Come in,’ she says, rushin me through a hall an down a flight of stairs an inta a brightly lit room. An a young one wit fluffy slippers an a dressin gown shouts, ‘Hello’ at me. ‘Come and meet Nettie,’ the woman says te me. ‘She’s been waiting up for you. And she’s the oldest girl at sixteen.’
The girl’s face drops when she sees me. ‘Oh! You’re very small for thirteen, isn’t she, Mum?’
‘Yes! We were expecting to see a much bigger girl.’
I dropped me head, lookin at the floor an thinkin, I’m even small fer eleven. They’re goin te know me ma is tellin a pack a lies. An they’ll find out who we really are, an then we’ll be in serious trouble. Me head started te pound, an I felt like gettin sick.
‘Would you like a cup of tea an some bread an jam, Mary?’ the woman asked me.
I looked at her, an she was waitin fer an answer. Oh! Is tha supposed te be me name? ‘No, thanks,’ I muttered, keepin me head down.
‘What pop groups do you like?’ the young one asked me.
I shook me shoulders, not knowin anythin about pop groups.
‘Do you like films?’
‘Yes,’ I said, feelin shy.
‘What film stars do you like? I like Tony Curtis!’
I said nothin. I wanted te say Shirley Temple, but she would have said I was foolish. The young one looked at the woman, an they kept givin each other looks, wonderin wha te make a me. ‘Up to bed with you, Nettie. You’ve stayed long past your bedtime,’ said the woman.
‘Yes, Mam! G’night, Mary.’
‘Night!’ I muttered, an she rushed outa the room.
‘She’s disappointed you’re not a big girl. She was hoping for someone her own age,’ said the woman.
I said nothin, feelin foolish.
‘Follow me, and I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.’
I followed her up the stairs an along a passage. She opened a door an switched on a dim light. ‘Over here,’ she whispered, bringin me over te a corner bed under a winda. ‘Here’s a nightdress. Get changed and be quiet! Everyone is sleeping.’ Then she left.
I woke up te shoutin. I shot up in the bed, an two young ones were fightin. ‘Oh, give it back! That’s mine,’ said a young one of about eight, tryin te pull a teddy bear off another one of about ten. ‘That’s my Paddington Bear!’
‘No, it ain’t! You give it to me, or I’ll bite you!’ screamed the younger one.
A woman came inta the room. ‘Come on, down to breakfast, now!’
‘Auntie! She’s got my Paddington Bear!’
‘Katie! Give Renee back her bear,’ an the woman snatched it off Katie an pushed her out the door. Katie looked back, stickin her tongue out at Renee. I got outa bed an started te get dressed. ‘Come on, Renee,’ shouted the woman up the stairs.
‘What’s your name?’ asked Renee, lookin at me.
‘Mary,’ I said, thinkin first.
‘How old are you?’
‘Thirteen.’
‘You don’t look that!’
I said nothin.
‘Where are you from?’
‘Ireland!’ I said. ‘Dublin!’
Then the auntie put her head in the door an said, ‘Come on, slow coach! Mary, come for your breakfast.’
I followed them down the stairs an inta a big kitchen wit two long tables full a childre.
‘You sit here,’ a baldy man sittin at the top of the table said te me, pointin at an empty chair. I sat down, an he closed his eyes an joined his hands. An everyone started te sing, ‘Thank you, God, for the food we eat, for the flowers that grow, for the birds that sing’. Then everyone started te eat. I put the knife in me mouth, eatin me sausage. An he let a roar at me. ‘Take that knife out of your mouth!’ I jumped, an he looked at me sayin, ‘Never put a knife in your mouth! You will slice your tongue off! Sarah!’ he roared at the other table. ‘Elbows off the table and sit up straight. And stop giggling, Rebecca.’
Everyone was quiet, an the man an woman talked, eatin their breakfast. Then it was over, an everyone rushed off te get ready fer school. The man got up an left, then everyone disappeared. An I was left at the table listenin te the noise comin from somewhere in the house, an the bangin an thumpin of feet on the ceilin, an then the slammin of doors. An then the house was quiet.
The two women came inta the kitchen an started talkin. I didn’t look at them, an they ignored me as if I wasn’t there. I wondered what I should do. So I waited, but nothin was said te me. Then they started te clean the tables, an the auntie told me te go outside an play, an she opened the back door inta a yard. ‘Sit on that bench,’ she said, ‘and don’t move.’
I went outside an looked aroun. There was only a high wall wit a bench against it facin the kitchen winda, an a concrete ground. I sat on the bench, not movin. An I saw her at the winda washin the dishes an preparin the dinner, peelin the vegebales an keepin her eye on me. I had nothin te look at, an she was watchin me. I had the feelin they didn’t like me. An I couldn’t understand their ways, either. Me stomach keeps churnin at the thought of me an me ma in trouble. Where is she? An wha’s happened te her? An wha’s goin te happen te me? Will I ever see me ma again?
All mornin I’ve been sittin here now, an me legs are stiff, but I’m afraid te move. The wall is high, but I’m sure if I stood up on the bench an had a leap at the top of the wall, I could get up there an take me chances jumpin down on the other side. I could try it when the auntie turns her back. But even if I got away, how would I find me mammy? I wouldn’t know where te start lookin. No! It’s best I stay here an wait. She’ll know where te find me. But then tha’s only if they tell her. Maybe they won’t tell her where I am! An if they do catch me tryin te escape, they won’t give me a second chance. They’ll probably lock me up somewhere else or watch me even more closely. No! I’ll wait te see wha happens. More time passes, an the watery sun is movin away. It’s gettin very chilly here now, an I can’t stop meself worryin.
Then I heard noise in the house. The sound of the childre comin back from school. The back door opened, an the mum put her head out. ‘Come in, Mary!’
I got up from the bench, an me arse was creakin from the stiffness. ‘Oi! Here’s the Irish girl,’ an three girls, about eight an nine an ten, were starin at me.
‘You’re not big! I’m bigger than you!’ The ten year old said, comin over te stand next te me an measure herself. ‘Look, Mum, I’m bigger than the new girl.’
‘Yeah! Look, and I’m nearly as big as her,’ roared the eight year old.
I stood there not knowin wha te say or do. ‘Yes! Mary is small for a thirteen year old,’ the woman said, lookin at me like there was somethin very suspicious about me. Then she went back te settin the knives an forks.
‘Mary is a midget! Mary is a midget!’
‘How old are you?’ I asked the one tormentin me. I felt like givin her a box.
‘I’m eleven,’ she smirked. ‘And I’m bigger than you.’
I looked at her. She’s my age, an, yeah, she’s definitely bigger. An fatter. An she has lovely long curly hair past her shoulders. But if she keeps on tormentin me, she’ll be sorry. An fuck tha aul one! I looked at her te see if she was goin te tell them te stop, but she went on about her business, gettin the dinner ready, an wasn’t even listenin.
‘Oi! You’re a Paddy!’ the nine year old said te me.
‘Yeah! An you’ve no mammy!’ I said, wantin te hurt them back.
‘Stop that at once!’ A roar came from the baldy aul fella comin in the door. He marched over te me an barked, ‘You will call me Dad, and you will call my wife Mam, and you will call the other lady Auntie! Is that understood?’ He stared down at me.
‘Yes!’ I mumbled, lookin down at the floor.
The other three witches sniggered behind their hands. Then he roared at us, ‘Upstairs and wash your hands for dinner. Hurry! The lot of you.’
They rushed out the door, an I followed behind them. Like hell I will, call them Mum an Dad! I thought te meself. Then it was back down te the tables, an when everyone was sittin down, it was the ‘Thank you, God’ prayer again.
I looked aroun, an they were all sniggerin at me, the bastards. There must be about sixteen childre here. An they’re all ages. From about six te sixteen. I looked at me dinner – green peas, potatoes an a chop. I started te eat, watchin te see how ye use the knife an fork. Ye hold the meat down wit the fork, an ye saw wit the knife. OK, I’ve got tha. I made sure te keep the knife away from me mouth an watch the aul fella, who was keepin an eye on everyone an lets out a roar if ye do somethin wrong.
‘Oh, you rotter! That hurt. I’m telling!’
‘Quiet over there!’ roared Baldy at the other table, an he stopped eatin te glare at Renee an Sarah.
‘Dad! Sarah was in very big trouble today for throwing water at everyone and flooding the bathroom floor.’
‘Liar!’ screamed Sarah.
‘Yes, Dad!’ puffed Renee. ‘Miss Pennyfeather grabbed her ear and marched her off to Mr Jones, the janitor, to get the mop and bucket. And she was made to clean it up.’
‘No, Dad! It was Renee. I was trying to stop her,’ screamed Sarah.
‘Shut up!’ roared the dad.
‘And Renee bit me on my arm,’ shouted Rebecca, sidin wit Sarah.
‘Quiet the lot of you!’
‘No, she did not, Dad! Rebecca was pulling my hair, and Sarah ...’
‘Shut up!’ screamed the dad at a little fat young one sittin next te me. I dropped me eyes, cos he was lookin at me te see if I was joinin in the fight.
‘You’re a beast,’ whispered Sarah, givin Renee a slap.
‘That’s enough,’ roared Auntie, sittin opposite them. Renee started cryin.
‘That’s it!’ roared the dad. ‘One more word from anyone, and you will go to bed early without supper!’ An he glared at everyone, snortin an flickin the bit of hair tha flew inta his eye. An he took a stab wit his fork at the chop, an it shot off the plate. There was a silence as he watched it land on the floor an muttered as he bent down te pick it up. ‘My sainted grandmother!’ an everyone started sniggerin, then he flung it on the plate. An the laughin got louder. I buried me head in me plate, not wantin him te see me laughin.
‘Dad’s got a flyin chop,’ roared the fat one sittin next te me.
‘Dad’s got an empty tummy,’ muttered Baldy.
‘Would you like some cheese, dear?’ asked his wife, smilin.
‘No, I won’t bother. I’ve lost me appetite.’ An he stood up an lifted his newspaper from the little table by the fire an sat himself down in an armchair an started te read.
Everyone started te move, bringin their plates over te the sink, an the mother shouted, ‘Get your schoolbooks out! It’s time for homework!’
‘Mum! Mum! Someone pinched my pencil case. My treasured one,’ whined a young one, openin the belt of the mum’s bib tied behind her back while she was tryin te wash the dishes.
‘It was Tracy who pinched your pencil case!’ said Ida.
‘Out, now!’ screamed the mum, pushin Ida away an grabbin anyone she could get her hands on te push them out the door. ‘Homework! Bring your schoolbag now,’ she roared.
Baldy lifted his head over the newspaper an barked, ‘Brush your teeth!’ an looked at everyone, droppin his readin glasses down on his nose, an then shook his newspaper an buried his head in it again.
I headed te the bathroom, but it was crowded, wit everyone pushin an shovin te get at the sink.
‘Oi, Paddy!’ a young one said te me wit a toothbrush stickin outa her mouth.
‘Shut up! Don’t call me tha or I’ll stick tha brush down yer neck.’
‘Ooh!’ screamed bloody Renee. ‘I’m goin straight to Dad to tell him what you said to our Sammy.’
‘Go on, I’m not afraid!’ I shouted, an she rushed out the door, an Sarah roared after her.
‘Yeah! Tell Dad wot she said.’
‘Shut up, you!’ I roared.
‘I’m telling!’ she screamed, an she rushed out the door after Renee.
The little fat one slid out past me an roared, ‘You’re an Oirish Paddy!’ an ran down the stairs so fast she slipped an grabbed onta the banisters.
I headed fer me bed, bumpin inta some young ones robbin Renee’s Paddington Bear. The two of them glared at me an then pushed past, laughin an sayin, ‘We’ll hide it in Sammy’s bed.’
‘Yeah!’ said the other one. ‘And she’ll get the blame.’
I dived outa me clothes an jumped inta me nightdress, shuttin the door, an hopped inta bed, pullin the blankets over me head, hopin the dad wouldn’t come after me an I’d be in trouble. An hopin the others wouldn’t bother me, an I’d get a bit a peace.