Ma, It's a Cold Aul Night an I'm Lookin for a Bed

by Martha Long

  I sat back and closed my eyes, feeling the exhaustion hitting me, but also a sense of peace. I will never set foot in my old haunts again. The places I lived, or see the people I used to know. It does no good. Before I would know it, I would be right back where I started. No, never again. That is the past.

  ‘Fares, please!’ I looked up into the face of a tired aul fella resting himself on the back of me seat, clinking the coppers in his hand

  and rattling his leather bag with all the money. I could see he was annoyed with the sour look on his face at having me make him walk the six paces up to my seat, instead of sitting inside the door, making it handy for him to reach over and take the money off me. Pity about him, I sniffed. Looking up at him and asking how much is it to this place? Showing him the address on the piece of paper. ‘Four pence,’ he snorted, letting the address fly back and land in me lap.

  ‘What? I’m half fare! And well yeh know that!’ I shouted.

  ‘No!’ he drawled, looking up at the ceiling, delighted to get back at me. ‘I know no such thing. What age are yeh?’ he asked the ceiling, snorting and looking slowly down at me.

  ‘Fourteen!’ He curled the top of his lip, making quick sucking noises on his teeth, rattling his money bag, thinking about this. Feeling he had the power of God with me in his grip. While I waited, me head thrown back, and me nostrils flaring, staring up at him with me mouth open, listening to me breathing, and ready for a fight.

  ‘Gimme the money.’

  I dropped two coppers into his hand, and he rolled his machine and slapped the ticket into me hand, mashing it, and moseyed off back to his seat to spread himself and go back to his doze. ‘Will yeh let me know before I get to me stop, mister? . . . please!’ I asked, whipping me head around to him. I waited, while he thought about this.

  ‘I will if I remember,’ he said. Stretching himself out, closing his eyes, and jerking the cap on his head down, to block out the light.

  Ah, go and fuck yerself, yeh miserable aul bastard!’ I was about to roar, losing me rag. Then stopped meself in time. Jaysus! Keep quiet. He will only kick you off the bus so fast, before even your feet have a chance to touch the floor. Anyway, ye keep forgetting! You are supposed to be practising to become a lady!

  I sat back, snorting out me rage and pressed me nose to the window, seeing only dark fields, trees and bushes flying past, hoping to catch sight of something that will tell me if I’m near me stop.

  I stepped off the bus holding me suitcase, barely making it to the footpath. Before he banged hell out of the bell, getting the bus to take off so fast, I nearly tripped almost breaking me neck. ‘Aul bastard! I hope yeh die roaring!’ I screamed after him, seeing him watching me from the platform. He had the cheek to pull his lips apart, stretching them across his face. Showing me his big black mouldy teeth, looking like someone saying ‘Cheese’ for a photograph.

  There was no call for that carry on, I thought, picking up me suitcase and looking round to see where I’d landed. Jaysus! I’m in the arsehole of nowhere! Three shops. One a post office, a sweet shop and a chemist. Straight ahead, a long line of houses behind high walls surrounded by trees. Then to the right, a hill with more houses and an old Protesdant church behind an ancient wall. I could see the spire sitting on top of the roof. Then nothing but fields and hedges towards the city, back the way the bus just came.

  So much for landing in the middle of the bright lights! This is just a one-horse town. Everyone has been dozing in their beds for hours by the look of this place. Not a light on in any of the houses. What am I going to do? I can’t turn up at someone’s door this hour of the night. It must be after half-eleven. I’m really going to need a brass neck now, if I want to sleep in a bed tonight. Right, no harm in trying. They can only bang the door in me face. That won’t kill me.

  I stood under the street lamp to get a better look at the address: King William Road. Wonder which way that is, I thought, squinting up the hill, not liking the idea of going up there in the dark. I’ll have a look down here, see if the name of the road is written up somewhere. Bleeding conductor! I could have asked him, if he’d been any way human! Be thankful, Martha, yeh don’t have to live with someone like him! Chestnut Road. No, not down here. I’ll try up that hill.

  I set off, hiking up, nearly on me tiptoes, not wanting to make a sound in case anyone was hiding in the bushes on the other side of the road. I might see them before they hear me, then I can run for all I’m worth.

  I stopped outside a heavy, black old gate, not seeing the big man-eating dog until it leaped up the gate, baring its teeth and growling, slipping back down and barking its head in rage. ‘Jaysus! Help! Mammy!’ I screamed in fright, staring at its mouthful of sharp teeth. I started to shake like mad, terrified out of me life at the sight of the dog. I turned and ran for all I was worth, not daring to look back. The case was rattling like mad from me hands shaking. Ohh, please don’t let him get loose, I prayed. Running faster than I ever ran in me life. I shot across the road, stopping at the bus stop before I had the nerve to look back up. Oh, God! A dog! And a savage one at that! I’m even afraid of little dogs, never mind a big one like that thing. That’s it. I’m not moving another step, until I know what I’m doing.

  I sat down on the side of the footpath, the cold going right up through me. God! What kind of an eejit am I. Getting meself into this mess. I looked around at the dark silent road, with the damp and fog swirling just a few feet off the ground, and could feel a tight band wrapping itself around me head. That’s all I need, a bloody headache. I feel chilled to me bones. Think! No, I’m definitely not heading off again. I might meet another dog and won’t be so lucky next time. OK, I’m taking the bus back into town. That’s it.

  I stood up and reached for my suitcase, heading over to the bus stop on the other side. I can catch that bus back into town. Oh, bloody hell! It will be that aul conductor. So, to hell with him. If I keep me mouth shut and pay the fare, he can’t say anything.

  I stood waiting, not a sign of it. Not even another car passed in all this time. Then I heard it. I looked up, seeing the bus flying towards me and put my hand out to stop it. I watched as it flew past, with the ‘Garage’ sign up. I couldn’t believe it. It’s not going back into town. That’s the last bus! What am I going to do, I said to meself, feeling me heart sink down into me belly. Bloody hell! That’s me snookered. How do I manage to get meself into so much trouble? I should have left earlier! Ah, hell! I was enjoying meself, and so was missus. It was lovely to sit and talk and feel for a little while I was with someone who wanted to be with me. It was almost like I belonged there. Anyway, I’m me own person, I can do what I like. This family I’m supposed to be going to don’t own me. They’re only buying me labour, not bleeding me. Yeah!

  I looked around, hearing the silence around me. It’s not so bad being stuck out in the middle of the night. I’ll be glad of the heat and rest when I eventually get to lie in a bed, wherever that will be. So, there’s no hurry on me. I’ll ramble over to the shops and see if there’s somewhere I can snuggle in for the night.

  I stood up just as a big silver car came up the road. I watched it passing, with a man driving and a woman sitting in the front passenger seat. They both looked over at me then slowed down. I watched as the car slowly turned and came to a stop beside me. ‘Are you OK?’ a middle-aged man asked me, leaning out the window. I looked at the woman. She was leaning across, looking to see what was going on. She seems OK. I looked at him. He had dark wavy hair with silvery grey at the sides and black-framed glasses. They look respectable.

  ‘I’m a little lost, I wonder if you would know where this road is?’ I said, whipping the address out of me pocket.

  ‘That is the road parallel with Chestnut Road,’ he said quietly to his wife, looking at the address.

  ‘Yes, to the left of Conquer Hill,’ she said, leaning over to look at it. ‘Sit in the back, we will take you there,’ she said, leaning over to me. I hesitated for a second. They’re fine.
I opened the door, landing in me suitcase and sat in beside it, sliding along the cream leather seats. I could smell aftershave lotion, and looked up at the woman, she was all done up with a new hairdo. ‘Goodness! What a time for a young girl like you to be out, dear!’

  I slammed the door shut and sat back while the man drove off. ‘Thank you very kindly,’ I said, hearing Sister Eleanor always saying that.

  ‘Not at all! My goodness! I couldn’t imagine our Heather being stranded on the streets this hour of the night. Have you come far?’ she said, leaning over to look at me.

  ‘Eh, far enough,’ I said, not wanting to give away any information.

  ‘But are you expected? Will somebody be waiting up for you?’ she asked, staring into me eyes. Not being able to figure out what was going on.

  ‘Eh, I hope so,’ I said, not believing a word of it. Jaysus! This is going to take some explaining. I felt a bit panicky! I’m definitely going to look very foolish. Waltzing up to strangers and banging on their door this hour of the night.

  ‘It must be rather late,’ she said, squinting at her little gold watch on her wrist. ‘My heavens! Do you know it is twelve forty-five?’

  ‘Yeah!’ I croaked. Wanting to get back out of the car and wait until morning. I would rather freeze then cause ructions at this late hour. They will definitely send me packing, deciding they can do without the likes of me. Fuck! I definitely am a daft cow!

  I could feel me heart fluttering, and leaned across to get a look and see where they were going. We drove up the hill past the savage dog and turned left, driving alongside smaller-looking houses, not as big in the front, but big enough. ‘Number twenty-seven,’ the man muttered, leaning across to read the numbers of the houses on the walls.

  ‘Yes, dear! I think a bit further on. This is number nineteen. Oh, here we are, Richard. Another two doors up on the left.’ He cruised to a stop outside a house with a wide drive in and a silver Jaguar and a little Mini sitting in the drive. I looked out. Help! The house is in pitch blackness. I didn’t move, not wanting to get out and knock them up.

  ‘It looks like no one is awake,’ said the woman, quietly mumbling, staring at the house.

  ‘Would you like me to go in and knock, dear?’ the man said, looking at me. I stared at him, feeling very worried. He stared back, reading my eyes. ‘Are they relatives of yours, my dear?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Not really,’ I said, trying to decide what to do. Then I grabbed my suitcase and made a move, opening the door. Deciding to take the bull by the horns.

  ‘I am very grateful to you,’ I said, smiling and making to get out of the car. I pushed open the gate, thinking a dog could come lashing out and that would put the tin hat on it. But I couldn’t care less any more. Enough was enough. In for a penny, in for a pound, I giggled inside meself. Feeling a bit hysterical. I let the case down and looked for the door bell. It was hidden under all the ivy growing around the walls. I pressed it, hearing a chime of ding-dong, ding-dong. Then I stood back and held me breath waiting. The car sat outside, the two people, both pairs of eyes sat watching and waiting, too. Nothing happened!

  ‘Do you have their phone number, dear?’ the woman whispered in a loud voice. ‘We don’t live far! It might be a good idea if we telephone them from our home.’

  ‘No, sorry,’ I whispered, shaking me head. I felt so foolish, I could hear meself humming a tune in me head, and looking up at the moon. Things can’t get any worse. I have an awful fear of going where I’m not wanted. Making an eejit of meself.

  And this is it! I pressed the bell again, harder. Ding-dong, ding-dong. It sounded louder, flying around the house, then I heard movement. A door opening and shuffling. Then the light went on somewhere up on the landing. Oh, oh! Here we go. I smiled a sickly smile at the people in the car, giving a little wave. I wanted them to go, not see me getting roared at and sent marching off back down the road again. I won’t mind if I’m on me own. But they will only prolong the foolishness, seeing me make an eejit of meself.

  I could hear the bolts on the door being whipped back and the key turning. A curly-brown-haired man in a pair of pyjamas and wine dressing gown wearing leather slippers squinted out at me, with one eye closed, trying to make out what’s happening. He squinted one eye at me and tried to open the other one to land on the two people leaning out the car window to stare up at him. ‘Yes?’ he barked at me. Me mouth dried up. ‘Can I help you?’ he said, holding onto the door and trying to fly both eyes open at the same time.

  ‘Eh, hello! I’m Martha, the nuns sent me,’ I said. ‘Sorry I’m a bit late.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Eh! The person from the convent.’ I was listening to meself talking like I wasn’t the full shilling, but I couldn’t help it. Me mind had shut down.

  ‘What is it, Greg? Who is it?’ a woman’s voice came from up the stairs. I could hear her, but I couldn’t see her.

  ‘I think you have the wrong address,’ he said, looking at me and making to close the door.

  ‘Is this . . . twenty-seven . . . King William Road, Missus Andrews?’

  ‘Yes, yes! Doctor and Mrs Andrews,’ he said, shaking his head up and down like mad, hoping things would now start to make sense. ‘But! Who are you?’

  ‘I’m the girl from the convent. You wanted someone to help you with the children when you went away!’

  I heard footsteps running down to the door, then it was whipped open, and a curly blonde head appeared. ‘You must be Martha. Heavens above! Come in. What on earth happened to you?’

  I stared at her for a minute, trying to take in she was smiling. Then grabbed me suitcase and whipped around, waving and smiling at the people, shouting in a whisper, ‘Thank you very much!’

  ‘OK.’ They smiled, happy and waving. Then drove off, knowing I was safe, the people were going to let me in.

  I stepped into the hall, and the woman started to close the door, first giving a look out to the car moving off, to turn around, and go back down the road. I watched the man head off down the hall, slapping his leather slippers on the old Victorian tiles. He headed into a room with his head lowered, and his neck drooping, then the woman turned to me after sliding the bolts across the door and turning the big key. ‘Are you all right? Go on, go down to the kitchen.’

  I walked slowly down the hall, hanging onto me suitcase, still not sure if yer man was going to roar the head off me. The lights blazed on in the big kitchen and I looked around at a big cream Aga stuck inside an arch in the wall, with a wide overmantel lined with loads of little ornaments.

  ‘We had given you up,’ laughed the woman, showing a gorgeous smile with lovely white teeth and shiny blue eyes.

  ‘I’m really sorry. This was the last thing I meant to happen,’ I said, lifting me head to look at her, then over at him, standing in the middle of the kitchen tearing lumps out of his head. Both his hands were tearing through his scalp, his nails scratching like mad through his big mop of curly brown wavy hair, and staring at the floor. Then I heard a little mewling sound and it got louder.

  ‘The baby! Aoife is awake. Oh, save me from young girls and babies!’ he moaned, lowering his head to the floor, bending his back and dropping his face in his hands.

  The woman smiled, watching him. She was hesitating, waiting for him to do something. Then she said, ‘Will you . . . or will I?’

  ‘No, I’ll go,’ he said, springing out of the kitchen, leaving his slipper behind, then coming back and throwing the eye to me and grabbing his slipper, saying, ‘I told you a young girl would be trouble. We should have gotten one of your mother’s cronies in to help. Even mothers-in-law and their pals are better than this.’ Then he was gone. Taking the stairs two at a time. I could hear him heaving out off the banisters, trying to get up in a hurry.

  ‘Take no notice of him,’ she said, laughing at me. ‘He hates to be disturbed from his night’s sleep. But don’t worry, Aoife is giving him plenty of that at the moment. Would you like a hot cup of tea? You look frozen!
What happened to you?’

  ‘I, eh, got a bit delayed,’ I said, watching as the man came flying back in carrying a little newborn baby bawling its head off, with its little bud mouth wide open.

  ‘Here you are, darling. She needs her darling mamma. Go to Mamma, precious,’ he clucked, dropping little kisses on her face and handing her over, letting her land into the mammy’s outstretched arms.

  ‘You go on back to bed, dear,’ she said.

  He whirled around, first looking at me then down at the baby then up at her. ‘If you’re sure,’ he said, with his hands held over his head, stopping his scratching for a minute.

  ‘Yes! I can manage. Go on,’ she laughed. ‘Back to bed with you.’

  ‘Oh, you’re a treasure,’ he said, giving her a quick kiss and a tap on the arse and took off happily, flying out the door and up the stairs.

  ‘We can do without the theatricals this hour of the night!’ she laughed in a whisper over to me. ‘Men! They make a song and dance about nothing,’ she said, stretching her face and staring her eyes to heaven. I laughed, seeing the picture of his big mop of wavy hair bouncing on his head as he flew out the door. With his belly going first, and his elbows stabbed back, making himself in an awful hurry. Like someone had set fire to his arse.

  ‘Put on the kettle there,’ she said, nodding over to the worktop and sitting herself down in an armchair by the Aga, with a bottle in her hand and snuggling the baby into her, putting the bottle in her mouth. The baby made growling sounds and settled down to slurping hungrily. I could hear it going down her belly.

  ‘Ah, she was hungry,’ I whispered, smiling down at the baby, watching as she clapped eyes on me for the first time. She stopped sucking, letting the bottle slip and her mouth drop open with the milk dribbling out the corners, and stared up at me in shock. Her big blue eyes hanging out of her tiny white face gawked like mad at me. Then she shifted herself for more comfort and went back to sucking, ignoring me and looking up at her mammy, making sure she was still safe.