by Martha Long
I was only ever in the fifth class, no fourth or third, or any fuckin class . . . just the one, sittin there like a gobshite, not knowin wha it was all about. But I mighta learned! So tha’s it fer me whole life! Just one class! An the fuckin ma not tellin me I was thirteen. If I had known tha, I woulda taken off long ago! Flyin like the hammers a hell on the next banana boat outa this country, an well away from them. She’s a cute aul fucker! She probably knew tha full well but was gettin worried seein it comin aroun the corner. Knowin I’d take off as fast as me skinny legs would take me, leavin her stranded. If I had a known tha, I woulda kept me mouth shut. Not go mutterin tha I was gettin the hell well away from tha mad bastard as soon as I hit fourteen. Hm! So now it’s too late. I’ve landed meself in this place! An tha’s put a stop te me gallop fer a while. But on the other hand. Well, I won’t have te spend so long in this place, only another two years. Yeah! Me heart lifted; I can’t wait fer tha day.
‘I don’t care!’ Loretta laughed. ‘I hated school anyway.’
‘Yeah, I know, ye weren’t bothered doin anythin. Jaysus, Loretta, you can hardly read!’
‘Shrrup you! You did nothing either. You spent all the time playing oxo with me.’
Yeah, I thought, thinkin of the square boxes. Ye have te get three Xs or Os in a line te win. Still, I would have been happy te understand how te do the lessons, but it doesn’t work like tha; ye have te know yerself. Ah well, I suppose there was no point in me goin te the technical school if I would be only wastin me time.
‘So tha’s it then. I’m always in Sister Eleanor’s bad books, so I bet I’ll end up pot wallopin in the kitchen wit Mercy havin a fit an bangin me over the head wit the bleedin pots,’ I laughed.
‘No! I got that job, I get on really well with Sister Mercy, and I can eat what I like.’
I looked at her, seein her lovely blue eyes sparklin at the thought a bein left school an gettin first go at the best grub.
‘So, what am I on? Wha job am I gettin?’
‘Dunno,’ she said, shovellin half the bowl a cornflakes inta her mouth. ‘Allanah got nursery, and so did lanky Mary Lemington, and the pet, Harriet Miller, got odd jobs around our group, working with Ellie, Sister Eleanor.’
‘So wha does tha leave?’ I said, tryin te think.
‘Dunno! Go and find out.’
Right! I leapt up rushin me dishes te the sink an rinsin them out, an dried them quickly, puttin them on the long table. ‘Bye, see ya!’
‘See ya! You’ll probably end up with the farmer, helping him clean out the cows’ shit,’ she laughed.
‘Fuck off, Loretta Winters. Sister Eleanor has two hopes if she thinks she’s gettin me out there: Bob Hope an no fuckin hope!’
CHAPTER 7
Itore up through the passages dyin te know wha job I got. Jaysus! I hope I get somethin good; I don’t want te end up wit Mercy in the kitchen. Two of them were sent te the nursery wit the babbies. Tha job woulda been lovely, pity I didn’t get tha one, I love the babbies. So maybe they will want two in the kitchen, tha means. One te help Mercy wit the cookin, an one fer the pot wallopin – tha will surely mean me. She would love tha. Get the chance te get her own back be bangin me over the head wit the pots. Anyway, I don’t know how te cook, not even how te boil an egg! Ha, ha! Tha’s wha started the whole trouble in the first place. I can still see her face after me eatin her cakes. Yeah! Everyone got a good laugh outa tha one!
I looked aroun – not a sinner te be seen. Where is she? Damn! Probably up in the convent gettin her prayers, prayin her life away. I’ll probably have te cool me heels, as she says, an wait, holdin me patience. Maybe she’s in the playroom gettin a bit a sewin done while she has the peace an quiet. ‘Sister Eleanor?’ I put me head in the room lookin aroun. Nope! Not here. I dashed up the stairs an headed up te the dormitory. I’ll knock on her door; maybe she’s in her room. It’s right next te me bed, an she has another door in her room tha leads right out inta the convent. Just as I hit the landin an was about te fly through the dormitory, she came rushin out.
‘Martha! Ah, Martha. Listen, I have something to tell you,’ she said, smilin an takin me arm.
‘Yes! Is it about the jobs?’ I puffed, anxious te know wha I was gettin.
‘Yes, darling, it is.’
DARLING! An she’s smilin at me. Hm! She’s only sayin tha cos she wants something. She’s a bit like the ma in tha. Soft soapin when they want somethin outa ye. Still, it’s better than a kick up the arse.
‘Yeah! Wha did I get, Sister?’
‘Well!’ she smiled. ‘Mother Pius has asked especially for you to work on the hall door! That is a great privilege, Martha,’ she said, narrowin her eyes an shakin her face, thinkin I truly am blessed. ‘Mother Pius obviously thinks very highly of you to ask for you, so run into the convent quickly and gong for her. You will see the nuns’ listing for how many gongs you give, and she will come to see you. Now, Martha! Only use the gong once and wait, don’t upset her, because she is very important!’ Sister Eleanor said, starin inta me eyes, lookin worried I might let her down.
‘No, Sister, I’ll behave. I’ll be very good – on me best behaviour!’
She stared at me, not lookin too sure.
‘Promise!’ I said, dyin te get movin.
‘Now remember, she is very important, and treat her with the same respect as you would the Reverend Mother.’
‘Oh, right!’ I said, thinkin I’m definitely goin te be in trouble in no time at all. Tha Reverend Mother has no time fer me. No wonder Sister Eleanor is lookin so worried. She gets all red at the mention a the Mother’s name; she treats her like God!
‘OK, run along and remember what I said.’
‘Right! Thanks, Sister Eleanor. Don’t worry, they won’t even know I’m there!’
I headed meself up te the convent, passin the chapel, an arrived at the gong standin in front of the nuns’ little passage leadin right inta the heart of the convent. I stared at the size of it. It looks like the one yer man on the fillums in the Rank advertisement bangs te announce the start of the fillum. Now I get te have a go. Right!
I lifted up the board covered in the plastic sheet an looked fer the number of bangs ye give te get the different nuns. One fer the Reverend Mother – no fear! Don’t want her. Two fer Mother Pius. Right! Two! Here goes.
I picked up the long wooden mallet wit the ball at the end covered in calf’s leather an swung it at the big round metal drum thing hangin from a leather rope. I gave it two unmerciful whacks, makin it fly like mad an listenin te noise soundin like every plate in the house was bein smashed. Me arm was still goin, wantin te give it another good belt, but I stopped meself an put the mallet back carefully, rememberin wha Sister Eleanor said. Jaysus! I don’t want te lose me job before I even got a chance te get started!
‘Yes?’ A red-faced nun wearin very fancy black leather shoes wit soft-leather soles squeaked her way down te me, comin outa the office beside the telephone.
‘Martha? Wonderful! You are going to be my new steward,’ she roared, soundin English, but she’s not, I heard she’s German, I thought, watchin her sweepin herself down te grab a hold a me. ‘Let me see you,’ she said, grabbin me arms out in the air an spinnin me aroun. ‘Yes! We shall have to get you a nice smock to wear while on duty. I shall go into Clerys store this afternoon and you shall have it ready for tomorrow morning. Now! Let me educate you on the rules. Incidentally, why are you not in the choir? I have been listening to you for some time now in chapel. You have a wonderful singing voice, very sweet, soprano, with a little contralto!’
I stared at her wit me mouth open. ‘Eh . . .’ I was thinkin tha’s not a good idea.
‘Do you think they will throw you out?’ she whipped at me.
‘Eh . . .’ was all I could get out.
‘I am all too well aware of your little tête-à-têtes with the other children. Really! It is ridiculous! You would be one of their most gifted. I will recommend you join the choir right away. We can’t ha
ve this nonsense. You are very gifted, and you have a duty to see you do not waste these God-given gifts,’ she snorted, wavin her finger at me.
‘Yeah,’ I said, shakin me head slowly, lettin her think I agree. But mutterin under me breath, ‘Not on your nelly. Ye’re not gettin me inta tha choir.’ Havin te learn the Latin, then stand there singin our lungs out, soundin like a pack of crows on our last gasp! An she thinks we sound lovely? Gawd! She gets enjoyment outa nothin. No, I wouldn’t be able fer all tha shoutin an messin an fightin wit all them gobshites! I’d sooner or later lose the rag an end up throwin one a them over the gallery te end up splattered on top a the Reverend Mother, dozin in her prie-dieu, supposed te be prayin.
‘Yes,’ she rambled on, ‘I did so ask for you especially. I believe you are the best of the bunch. I’m surprised you are not continuing with your education, you are far too bright not to be allowed to do so,’ she said lookin at me, her eyes starin inta mine, lookin very annoyed. ‘Hm! I think I shall speak to Mother about this; some of the girls are being sent off to boarding school. I think you would benefit greatly if you continue with your education. Yes!’ an she stood thinkin about this, forgettin about me waitin te start me new job. Then she woke up. ‘OK! Come along quickly, don’t dally, I have a lot of work to get through . . .
‘Now! This is the telephone. When it rings, you pick it up,’ an she picked it up, ‘say good morning or afternoon, whatever the time of day, and give the name of the convent.’ Then she pointed te the gong. ‘Familiarise yourself with the signals for each nun, and please . . . only call once. If the nun does not respond, take the small silver one and hunt them out in the grounds, where you will probably find them along the Cloistered Walk praying. Have you got that?’
‘Yes, Mother Pius!’
‘Good! Now the door. At all times you must be the essence of politeness! Remember you hold the reputation of the convent in your hands; this burden is placed on you when you present yourself at the front door. You will be the first person they will meet. So at all times you must be very polite and courteous. Also, the poor man who turns up looking for a cup of tea is also to be treated with the same respect you yourself would like to enjoy. Do you understand that?’
‘Yes, Mother Pius!’
‘Good! Now come along with me and I shall show you your duties . . .
‘You will arrive here at nine a.m. sharp, not a minute late. I do not tolerate lateness, idleness or bad workmanship. If you must do a job, do it well, or not at all! Do I make myself perfectly clear?’ she said, swishin her habit te look aroun at me as I followed her down the little passage again an inta a big sittin room.
‘This is the nuns’ sitting room; you sweep and dust this room every morning, and on Fridays you wax the furniture and floor. Come along.’
I looked at the size of it, wit the long table an the chairs – I counted six – an the big bookcase from ceilin te floor stuffed wit holy books. An the sideboard, an four leather red armchairs each side of the huge white marble fireplace, an big oil paintins of God an the Apostles an all sorts of saints.
I followed her through a long passage wit brown tiles. ‘This must also be waxed and polished and dusted and swept every morning.’
‘Do I wax it every morning, Mother Pius?’ I said, shocked.
‘No, sweep and dust every day, and everywhere waxed on Fridays.’
‘Right! I said, followin her up the stairs.
‘This will be scrubbed once a week also.’
Then we stepped off a little landin wit a winda, an up more stairs an onta the longest passage I ever saw.
‘These are the nuns’ cells, where they sleep,’ she said, bouncin along the corridor, wavin her arms at a long line a doors. ‘Swept and dusted, waxed on Fridays,’ she said, wavin at the long corridor floor.
Me eyes looked the length a the passage. It must be the length of O’Connell Street! Jaysus, how will I find me way aroun this place, never mind clean an scrub it?
We got te the end a the passage an went down more stairs. ‘These must also be scrubbed on Fridays and swept and dusted every day.’
We arrived back at the gong an flew down more stairs an inta a tilet. ‘Clean this every morning, and of course if the floor needs mopping . . . in fact, you had better wash the toilet and basin every morning, using Vim. And those stairs,’ she said, pointin te the ones we came down, ‘must also be scrubbed, and they do tend to take a lot of traffic. Give them a mop out in the mornings after you have swept, and dust along the edges of the staircase there. I shall run my finger along to be sure you have dusted, so no shortcuts, please!’ she said, pointin her finger at me.
We traipsed on down more stairs an finally ended up on the last passage. It was dark down here, no winda te throw in the light. ‘These old Victorian tiles must be scrubbed and waxed; they need constant care or they tend to become shabby . . . dull and dirtylooking. Now! You will finish by twelve-thirty in the afternoon, then you go for lunch, and please be back by one-thirty to resume your duties. You will receive five shillings every Friday; this is not wages, it is your pocket money. In the afternoons at one-thirty, you will go to the convent kitchen where you will wash up the dishes and sweep and clean the floors, then you may be called to help the Sacristan Sister Benedict to wax and polish the chapel; after the nuns’ office, prayers. Then you may go in to sweep and dust . . .
‘Now! Our retreat will be starting shortly, and our nuns from the convents around the country will be arriving here to take their retreat. It will go on for eight days, and this is taken in complete silence. The nuns do not converse with anyone; they will spend the time in prayer and listening to lectures from the visiting Benedictine monk taking the retreat. So, when you see a nun coming towards you, please make yourself scarce and above all do not speak or make eye contact, and you must do your duties in absolute silence. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, Mother Pius!’ I said, lowerin me head, already feelin the holy an solemn occasion of it all.
‘Now! One more thing. You really must improve your diction. Do open your mouth when you speak and stop dropping your endings of a word! Start practising now – AND, ING, TH – it will come to you quite easily. This should not pose problems for you, you are quick and bright, and I see great promise for you . . .
‘Now we must start right away. Our Matron Millington, she takes care of the nuns. She will be wanting you to give her a hand to set up the cells for the visiting nuns in preparation for the coming retreat. Some of them will arrive early, perhaps two days before. So you must start to scrub and wax the convent from top to bottom straight away; the nuns will be arriving in six days. So you must be finished at the latest the day before. Now come along, I shall take you upstairs to meet Matron Millington.’
We climbed the stairs again, walkin along the corridor with the nuns’ bedrooms, or cells as Mother Pius called them. I could hear bangin comin from the far end.
‘In here, dear.’
I could see a very old woman humpin iron beds aroun the room. There’s loads a them stacked against the wall.
‘Mona! This is Martha; she is the new child taking over the convent duties.’
‘Ah! You’re very welcome, Martha. Come over here till I get a good look at you. My! Aren’t you a lovely girl? You have lovely hair, God bless you!’ An she made a dive te feel me shoulder-length hair wit me fringe hangin over me eyes. ‘Oh, we’ll have to cut that fringe,’ she said, moppin it offa me forehead.
Not on yer nelly, I’m thinkin te meself, lookin her up an down the length a the floor. She has te be ninety if she’s a day, I thought te meself, lookin at her wisps a grey hair stickin outa a white frilly linen bonnet tha they wear te bed in the cowboy fillums when they’re well off an livin in the town. Her face was like melted dough tha was beginnin te harden. Soft an wrinkly an hangin down te her chest nearly. She was wearin a white smock an black lacedup boots wit very thick nylons tha fell down in rolls an wrapped themselves aroun her ankles.
‘Well!’ she said,
standin back an examinin me. ‘You and me are going to get along like a house on fire. I can see the mischief in them blue eyes. Sparkling with the devilment and mischief they are. Ahh! We should have some great laughs.’
‘Yes, Matron, I shall get a move on,’ the nun said, movin herself te the door, not likin the sound a the idea of me an the matron havin a laugh. ‘Yes, she will be a great help to you, Matron.’ Then she vanished in a whish of floatin black an disappeared down the passage.
Matron Mona gave me a dig wit her elbow, laughin, an whispered, ‘What did she say to you?’
‘Eh . . . she told me wha me work was.’
‘Don’t be mindin any a them! They would put years on yeh with their fussing and carrying on,’ she said, laughin an winkin.
I like her, I thought, grabbin a hold a the spring an puttin it sittin on the black bars already waitin.
‘Come on, we have to get these into the rooms ready for the big contingent arriving any day. Oh, the curse on them, why they bloody have to come here I’ll never know! It’s just more work for us. Here! You go first and I’ll steer,’ she said, grabbin hold a the bed an heavin me out the door. I was headin fer the door opposite, she was movin so fast! ‘Turn left, Martha! Before yeh put a hole in the wall and end up sitting on top of one a the aul nuns in the cell,’ she laughed.
I kept goin, me head swingin in all directions, wonderin which was me left. I hardly had time te think, she was movin so fast.
‘Now!’ Matron Mona breathed, liftin her head an tryin te straighten herself, rubbin her back. ‘Just run the duster along the irons and we will make up this bed. Oh, that’s the last a them beds, thanks be to bloody hell! I’m too old for this malarkin about! Then you can sweep the floor and run the duster over the room and finish off with giving the floorboards a quick run over with the drying-upper to bring back the shine. I wonder what time it is. Hurry! I think the bell may go any minute for the dinner, and I want to be out of here by then. I’m not bloody humping meself back up here to mess around.’