by Martha Long
I lifted me head, shakin me shoulders, lookin aroun the room, an took in a big sigh, lettin me breath outa me chest, feelin a bit easier in meself. Yeah! Things are never really tha bad, it just depends on how I’m lookin at them. Me mind wandered back te the skinny aul nun. Yeah, maybe tha’s wha she’s talkin about, the holy little books in the chapel. Nuns are always tellin ye te pray an read them things. But wha has tha got te do wit me comin here? ‘Ah, fuck her,’ I whispered, gettin back te meself. I’m not botherin me head about wha she thinks; let her do wha she likes.
I stared down at the silver things sittin on the table an wandered down te get a better look. Gawd! Them nuns sure know how te look after themself wit their eatin off silver. I lifted the lid off the teapot just as the door whipped open, an dropped it back down wit the almighty fright I got, an the skinny nun flew in wit a little red-faced nun trailin in behind her.
‘How dare you touch those things!’ she roared, snortin at me an whippin me outa the way te grab the tray offa the table. Then she lifted it up te examine it an make sure I hadn’t done any damage or robbed somethin. She marched over te a sideboard an rested it down very gently an wiped away an imaginary bit a dust, treatin it like a newborn babby. ‘Take her down to the institution, Sister Eleanor,’ she said, wavin her arm at me then whippin aroun her veil, throwin her head from side te side like it was long hair an she was really beautiful altogether.
Jaysus, tha one really fancies herself no end, I thought, lookin aroun at the little nun.
‘Yes, Mother,’ the little nun said, goin even redder in the face an bendin down te me an takin me arm very gently an flyin me out the door.
CHAPTER 2
We flew inta the hall an through another door, the nun in an awful hurry. I looked up at wide stairs as the nun hurried me past, sayin through her breath, ‘Come and see our lovely chapel, wouldn’t you like that?’ I wasn’t bothered an said nothin as we turned left inta a big wide passage wit shiny brown tiles. Ye could see yer face in them.
‘Now, pet! Come into our chapel and we will say a quick prayer,’ she said, dippin her hand inta a holy water font an blessin herself an splashin it at me te bless me, too.
I was lookin up at the big long rope comin down from the ceilin. ‘That is rung to call the nuns to prayers and announce the angelus,’ she said, seein me lookin at it.
I’d love te have a go at ringin tha, I thought, lookin at it swingin in the air. She swung the door open inta the chapel an steered me in, collapsin herself onta her knees an bowin her head. I looked aroun at the chapel an it was very plain. I wondered wha she was makin all the fuss about; I’ve seen better. Then she stood up an breathed out again. ‘Really, it is very beautiful, don’t you think?’ she said, bendin down te look at me.
I stared at the benches runnin the length of it, an the kneelers at the back wit priests’ chairs behind them. The wooden floorboards were polished within an inch of their life, an the altar wit the marble floor was a bit smaller than normal churches. ‘Yeah, it’s lovely, Sister,’ I croaked in a whisper.
She was delighted an gave me a big smile, noddin her head an squintin her eyes aroun like it was her very own palace an she built it all be herself. Gawd! It doesn’t take much te make her happy, I thought, as she whipped me out the door an headed me down another passage.
‘This is the convent passage,’ she whispered. ‘We have to be very quiet,’ she said, puttin her finger to her lip. ‘The children are not allowed up here,’ she whispered very quietly, bendin down te me. ‘We are passing the side of the chapel. So we must not make any noise,’ she said, soundin like our life depended on it an waggin her finger at me.
We turned right onta another long passage. ‘This is the sick bay,’ she said, openin a door, an I followed her inta a room wit beds lined along the walls. ‘The children come here when they are sick and need to see our doctor, Doctor Blightman.’
‘Right!’ I breathed, tryin te get me breath an take everythin in. I had a chance te count six beds before I was whipped out the door, an we were off, on the move again.
She pushed a door open an we were standin on a landin wit a long winda an a wide windasill. It was too high up te see out, an anyway, ye wouldn’t be able te see out through it, cos the glass wasn’t fer lookin through. I looked up the stairs wit another passage, an the stairs went fer miles up te more floors.
A door opened suddenly an I could hear a tilet flushin an a young one wit long white hair streamin down her back came rushin out. ‘Sister Eleanor! Sister Eleanor, I have to talk to you,’ she roared, rushin over te the nun.
‘Not now, Jane Mary, I’m in a hurry,’ an she rushed me down the stairs wit the young one screamin behind us.
‘Sister Eleanor! I have to tell you something. I told that big gom Jean Clarke I was going to tell on her because she gave me a box in the ear for nothing!’ she moaned, her mouth droppin down te her chest.
The Sister kept rushin, draggin me behind her. I was tryin te get a look back at the young one, an she gave me a dirty look as if it was all my fault the nun had no time fer her.
‘It’s real red and it’s paining me,’ she screamed, tearin down the stairs an pushin past me, gettin herself next te the nun.
‘What? What is it?’ the nun stopped, lookin distracted, an squinted inta the young one’s ear.
‘I think me eardrum is broke. I can hear a roaring in me ear!’ she gasped in a whisper, outa breath, thinkin she’s near te death’s door. ‘Can you see the red?’ she asked, lookin hopeful, her eyes bulgin outa her head an her mouth hangin open, waitin fer the nun te tell her she has te be rushed te see the Doctor Blightman, an it’s a real emergency.
I held me breath.
‘No! You’ll be all right,’ the nun said an flew off again.
We tore off down another passage then she stopped an opened a door. I could hear shoutin an laughin an music, an I followed her through a room wit mahogany boxes wit lids on them, lined all along the walls, wit a big winda in the middle like the one on the landin, only this one had big black thick bars across it, an an old-fashioned sewin machine tha ye put yer foot on te make it go sat in the middle of the wall, wit a big old pine press like ye find in school sat behind the door. Young ones were sittin on a sofa an one was holdin a banjo. They all stopped talkin an gaped at me.
‘Girls, this is Martha. Will you take care of her?’ she said, smilin at them then puttin me sittin in an armchair. ‘I will see you later,’ she said te me an made te fly out the door.
‘Wait, Sister Eleanor! What about me sore ear?’ the blonde young one roared, flyin out the door after her.
I stared at the young ones an they stared back at me.
‘Where are yeh from?’ a young one wit fat freckly cheeks an roarin red hair asked me.
‘Dublin,’ I said, eyein the banjo.
She muttered somethin te the tall skinny one wit a red culchie face an the two of them laughed, eyein me. I eyed them back, not thinkin much a them. Laughin at me an I only in the bleedin door two minutes. Yeah, they better watch out, or I’ll put the grin on the other side of their faces if they’re not careful! I snorted te meself, feelin sick in me stomach at the thought of havin te stay here wit the like a them.
The fat one started te play the banjo an they all started singin, ‘Oh, Polly wally doodle all day!’ It sounded grand, an I watched te see how she played it. I could play tha easy! I thought te meself, an I jumped up te grab the banjo. ‘Give us a go!’ I said, whippin it offa her an sittin meself back down in the armchair an pullin the strings. It made an awful noise, an the others started roarin laughin. I didn’t blame them, it wasn’t easy after all, an I stood up an gave it back.
Yer woman still had her mouth hangin open an looked aroun at the others, sayin, ‘She just grabbed it out of my hands! Huh! She’s a street kid!’
They all started roarin an laughin again, an I looked aroun at them, gettin the picture of the four-eyed skinny nun insultin me be askin if I was retarded. They’re all tryin te m
ake an eejit outa me in this place. I suddenly felt meself gettin a red-hot fire in me belly an me chest tightened. Without warnin, I grabbed the banjo back an gave yer woman a smack on the head wit it, roarin, ‘Who are you callin a street kid, ye culchie cow?’
The fat one leapt te her feet, still rubbin her head, an made a lunge fer me hair. I jumped back, holdin out the banjo, roarin, ‘Come on, an I’ll give ye another taste a this!’
Yer woman stood grindin her teeth an watchin the banjo an then landin her eyes on mine, an we locked on each other’s faces, an I felt meself stiffenin, watchin fer the slightest move.
‘I’ve a good mind to rip your hair off,’ she said, thinkin better of it an lettin her shoulders drop.
I looked aroun at the others an they were lettin their breaths go an drawin up their jaws hangin down te their bellies. ‘No one calls me names or threatens me, cos ye’ll soon see wha I’m made of,’ I said te the room, walkin out an headin fer the door.
I could hear them all shoutin at the same time, givin out about me. Te hell wit them! I thought, slammin the door shut after me, an walked down a passage tha looked dark at the end, wantin te put distance between me an them. I passed a door wit glass at the top an hesimitated. I could hear voices shoutin an little childre screamin. Jaysus, no! I’m not goin in there. I moved on an it was very quiet – good! No one aroun. I stopped at the end of the passage an looked at a door te me right, an one at the end in a corner, then I turned right then left again an went through an open door. I could smell disinfectant an came inta a row of doors wit tilets fer the childre. They look like the ones ye get at school. I went in an put the lid down on the seat an sat meself down te get a bit a peace an quiet.
God! Are ye listenin te me? I don’t like this place. The people are not very nice an them young ones are very ignorant. They don’t have the easy way of talkin te ye like the Dublin people do. No, they’re very sour. Anyway! They’re different from me. I think they’re all a load a culchies in this place. An they don’t like the Dublin people cos Dublin belongs te us, an we don’t like them fer robbin all the jobs! Tha’s wha all the big people do be sayin. Tha long skinny nun doesn’t like me, an now I’m afraid of me life gettin locked up wit the whole lot a them. I know I shouldn’t a grabbed the banjo, tha was a definite mistake. I made a right eejit outa meself. Then when I couldn’t play it they all started laughin, then I knew I made a right gobshite outa meself. Then tha young one got annoyed an called me a street kid. Well! God, tha put the tin hat on it an I went fer her. Now I’ve made an enemy of meself when the last thing I wanted te do was get meself inta trouble. I was hopin te keep meself nice an quiet, an get on wit the people here. But now . . . I’m feelin all on me own wit no escape. God, will ye stay wit me an help me te keep outa trouble, an let me know I’m not on me own, cos I’m feelin lost again, as if I was a babby. Thanks, God, an I promise te be very good. An anyway, tha little nun wit the red face, I like her, she’s very gentle. Maybe I’ll take a wander an see where she is. Yeah! Good idea.
I stood up an let out a big breath an dropped me shoulders, feelin better in meself. An headed out the door. Just as I got te it I heard laughin then runnin feet. I tried te open the door an it was locked. I pulled an pushed but it wouldn’t open. The bastards! They’ve locked me in! I’m locked in. I felt meself gettin hot an bothered, I’m not goin te be able te get out!
‘Open this door, ye bleedin ratbags!’ I slammed me fists an kicked the door, screamin me lungs out, an the bastards were laughin their heads off outside the door.
‘Let me out, I’m goin te fuckin tear ye’s limb from limb when I get me hands on the lot a ye’s!’
The door suddenly flew in, an a little woman wit long thin grey hair an wearin a blue overall smock stood blinkin an starin at me. I pushed past her an made fer the young ones.
‘Where are they? Let me at them, the mean cows!’
‘Glory be! Stop!’ An she grabbed a hold a me. ‘What happened to you at all?’ she said, lookin inta me face.
‘They locked me in!’
‘Who?’
‘The young ones.’
I was sweatin wit the fright, thinkin I’d never get outa there, an ragin at them makin a fool a me. I tried te pull meself free of the aul one an she held on tight te me coat. Me coat! She’s pullin me new navy-blue gabardine coat I robbed fer meself, an I was wearin me new red an white check wool frock, this is me first time te wear it, an I robbed tha on Saturday te look respectable fer the court. She’ll tear me coat!
I sobbed in a big breath an tried te ease meself, wantin her te let go. I wasn’t goin te run after them young ones now. ‘I’m all right,’ I sobbed, takin in another big breath.
‘Ah, that was very mean of them. Are you the new girl?’
I nodded me head up an down, happy someone was bein nice.
‘Come along and I’ll take you to Sister. She should be down now from the convent. It’s time for the rosary. I’ll take you to your group.’
We walked back along the passage an the little nun was rushin an pushin a load a kids ahead of her inta a room.
‘There she is! Sister! Sister Eleanor!’
The nun shot her head aroun, lookin very distracted.
‘I found the new girl, Sister Eleanor. She was locked in the toilets!’ The tiny little woman laughed, blinkin an shakin her head, like she had more te say but couldn’t get it all out at the same time. ‘Some bold brats were playing a joke on her,’ she laughed an coughed. She probably got tha from the smokin, I could smell it offa her.
The nun took me arm, sayin, ‘Oh, thank you so much, Miss,’ then let me arm go te move closer te the woman. They whispered te each other, watchin me, then the nun moved away, makin a hold fer me arm again, sayin, ‘Oh! They are very bold children altogether. When I find out who was involved, I will certainly punish them. Tsk, tsk, it is shocking behaviour,’ an she stared at the tiny woman, squintin wit her eyes half closed an clampin her lips together.
I felt better wit the fuss they were makin about me, an them agreein wit me thoughts tha them young ones were definitely mean cows! An I’m happy now havin the nun back, I feel more safe now she’s here. I think she’s very nice an gentle, an I really think I’m goin te like the Sister Eleanor.
The door opened an a pile a young ones came roarin out. ‘Sister Eleanor! Tell that big gom to give me back my ruler. I need it to make a straight line for me English composition.’
‘No, Sister! That’s mine! She gave it to me for helping her with her sums.’
‘I did not, you!’
‘Yeh liar. You dirty filthy terrible liar!’ the fat one wit the freckles roared inta the face of a young one wit long curly black hair streamin down her back.
‘Sister Eleanor! Ivy Holmes robbed me rubber! I want it back this minute, or she’s going te get it off me! She’ll be sorry,’ roared a young one wit lovely jet-black bouncy hair cut just past her ears, wit a thick fringe an lovely eyelashes tha look like sweepin brushes. Then she thumped a fat young one wit long gingery curly hair, it was lovely.
‘Give me back that rubber!’ screamed Bouncy-hair, wrestlin wit Curly-ginger. Bouncy got an unmerciful slap on the kisser, then was sent flyin when Curly put out her two hands givin yer woman an almighty push an ran back inta the room.
Sister Eleanor let out a scream. ‘Stop this fighting at once!’
‘But, Sister . . . me ruler! She has it!’
‘I want to hear no more out of you, Dilly Nugent!’ the Sister erupted, losin her rag an draggin hold of Dilly Nugent, pushin her inta the room. ‘Or the rest of you,’ she roared, swingin herself aroun te grab out at people.
‘Sister Eleanor! I want me rubber back! Punish her for hitting me!’ screamed Bouncy inta me ear.
‘Get in! Get in!’ an she dragged an slapped anyone she could get her hands on, an she started pushin an pokin them in the back te get them movin, an looked aroun at me, decidin not te slap me, an said, lookin very weary, ‘Come in, darling,’ then shut the door behin
d me.
‘Gawd! I hate everyone!’ moaned Dilly Nugent, lookin sideways at the nun like a dog tha’s circlin ye just before it attacks ye.
‘My God and my all!’ moaned the nun, bendin herself in two an lookin at the ceilin. Then she picked herself up an rushed down the room, an started roarin, ‘Put away all your school books; study time is over.’
‘Sister! My knickers and vest got lost in the laundry,’ whined a young one wit short cropped hair an a grey face lookin like a dirty ashtray.
‘Duck Egg . . . I mean Sister Mary Innocent said she never left them down to the laundry,’ roared a young one wit long black thin hair an the face like a back of a bus. She had thin lips an small beady eyes. Then she flicked her hair back an twisted her mouth an flashed her eyes, smirkin at the pasty one.
‘You mind your own business,’ roared the pasty one.
‘Girls!’ screamed the nun. ‘Pick up everything from the work table and tidy your bags away at once,’ an she made a run at the table, grabbin up things, an people roared, ‘That’s mine!’
‘Clean up the workroom,’ roared the nun, clappin her hands an tryin te get a bit of order.
I stayed close te the door, not likin this place at all. Some of them are very rough, an I’m goin te have te watch meself.
We got goin on the rosary, an I knelt meself down next te the nun. She held her rosary beads up fer everyone te see an tried te close her eyes an concentrate but had te flick them open when she heard the titterin. They were restin themselves against chairs an tables, an the Dilly Nugent one an her gang were holdin their hands up te their mouths an laughin an pointin at me. More people were joinin in, an I couldn’t figure out wha I was doin tha was makin them laugh. I looked up at the nun, an she was sayin the prayers an squintin at them an shakin her head. I moved in closer, nearly sittin on her lap, wantin te be right beside her, an the others got very annoyed an started pointin. I couldn’t understand wha was wrong wit tha, but they didn’t seem te like it.