by Martha Long
‘Thanks very much, missus,’ I said, delighted with her being generous as much as getting the good tomatoes.
‘Do yeh want antin else, love?’ she said, holding out her hand for the sixpence.
‘Yeah, give us a nice bunch of bananas.’
‘Righ! That’s ten pence,’ she said, landing the bananas in me box.
I walked on to the end of Moore Street, then turned right, heading past the Rotunda Hospital. I could see men flying in and out, some had teddies and bunches of flowers. Ah, the maternity hospital. Imagine having a baby today! Or even better still, tonight. A baby born on Christmas Day. Still and all. Them mothers will be delighted to have it over them for the Christmas, and can go home carrying their new baby. I hope that’s a nice present for all of them, I thought. Thinking of the poor women who had too many children, and the last thing they needed was another one.
Ah, well. Some poor people never get it easy in this life, I thought. Then the picture of the ma came flashing into me mind. I stopped dead in me tracks, thinking of the ma and the poor children. I could feel meself sinking down straight away. Just seeing the picture of them all. No, don’t! It’s not your business any more. She will only drag you down. Nothing was ever enough for her. That’s the way she is. Forget it. But it’s Christmas! They’ll have nothing, I thought, feeling the pain come over me at the thought I was only thinking of meself. Don’t be bleedin stupid! I’ve spent me whole life trying to help the ma, and look where it got me! Locked up for three years, and all she could worry about was when she could get her hands on me, to start milking me again. Then I’d start getting meself into trouble all over again. Anyway, as long as she stays with that aul fella . . . well, I’m never having anything to do with her. You promised yourself in the convent, Martha, you were never going to look back. It’s all over. Now I have to make a life for meself. You are going to have a grand life. You have given her enough. Yeah, I have. Enough is enough. I am going to make something of me life, I said to meself. Desperate not to look back. God knows where that might take me, I thought, getting pushed sideways by the crowd, and starting to move again, making me way down, heading over to Parnell Street.
I stopped and went into a hardware shop, asking the aul fella behind the counter, ‘How much are yeh charging for a hot-water bottle?’
‘Here’s one for a shilling,’ he said, landing a hot-water bottle on the counter.
‘Have yeh anything cheaper?’ I asked him, watching him dozily twirling his whiskers.
‘No! Do yeh want it or not?’ he said, getting ready to whip it away.
‘Yeah! It’s too late to go looking in Woolworths,’ I said. ‘Pity! I would have gotten it cheaper there.’
‘Yeah, an if I had Mister Woolworths’ money, yeh could buy it cheap from me, too,’ he said, sticking out his hand for the shilling. ‘Furthermore, I wouldn’t have teh be listenin teh the likes a you complainin about me prices.’
‘Jaysus, mister!’ I said slowly, getting annoyed meself. ‘Don’t take yer vengeance out on me. It’s too bad yer not knocked down with the rush of people wanting to buy yer stuff,’ I said, looking around the empty shop. ‘It’s not my fault yer place is as dead as the morgue! Maybe if yeh lowered your prices a bit, people might think of coming in. Christmas, how are yeh! This is supposed to be the season of goodwill!’ I snorted, slamming down the shilling and grabbing up me hot-water bottle and putting it in me box. Now brimming over with me shopping.
‘Yes! And a happy Christmas to you, too!’ he said, shouting at me back.
‘Yeah! Don’t choke on yer turkey,’ I said, making me way out the door.
I walked on, standing at the traffic lights to try and get across O’Connell Street. I looked up and down, seeing no gap in the traffic. ‘No! Wait, yeh gobshite. You’ll get yourself killed,’ I muttered to meself, not used to waiting at traffic lights to get across the road. The box was too heavy and I could hardly see over it. But it was grand and handy for getting me through the crowded streets.
Finally here. I made me way into the second-hand bookshop, smelling paraffin oil smouldering out from the wreck of an aul heater, standing upright on four legs. ‘Hello!’ I said, smiling at the old man sitting on a stool behind the counter, warming his hands wrapped in grey wool gloves with the fingers cut out. He had a soft battered old hat sitting on his head and a scarf wrapped around his neck, to keep out the damp. ‘Mister, can I leave this box behind yer counter while I have a look around at the books?’
‘Yeah, go ahead, love. Feel free to see if there’s antin yeh want. Go on! Put it under the counter. It will be safe there. I’ll mind it fer yeh!’
‘Thanks.’ I bent down, pushing the box under the counter, and rambled around the little book shop, throwing me eye at all the shelves stacked with piles of books. I wandered up and down, seeing some that might interest me, but hoping for something that would make me mad to read it. John Steinbeck. Of Mice And Men. I read the back, and flicked through the pages, not wanting to read it and spoil the story. Just to get an idea of what the book was like. Yeah! That looks good. I’ll take that.
I wandered on, taking me time, looking at anything that caught me eye. Then I picked up one that said Harold Robbins, The Carpet Baggers. Yeah! That sounds good. I’ll read that.
Right! I let out a big sigh of contentment, and headed off down to the old man at the counter. ‘How much do you want for these two books, mister?’ I said, putting them on the counter. He looked at the price on the back. It said three shillings and sixpence to buy new.
‘Give us half a crown for the two,’ he said.
‘Make it a shilling each! And I’ll sell them back to you at half that. Then buy some more from yeh, if yeh go easy on the price,’ I said, reaching for me purse.
‘OK, fair enough. Give us the two shilling,’ he said, taking the money out of me hand and putting it in his pocket, looking very happy.
‘What time will yeh be closing at? It’s a bit cold for you to be sitting in the draught coming in from that door,’ I said, looking at his watery red eyes and his nose streaming. He took out a dirty aul white hankerchief and wiped his nose.
‘Ah, maybe I’ll get a few more customers in like yerself,’ he said, looking hopefully at the door.
‘Yeah, well, have a nice Christmas for yourself. Will you be having your family come to see you?’
‘No, the poor wife is long dead this ten year. God rest her. But I’ll be all right. I’m going to take the bus out to Cabra and stay with the sister. She has a big crowd of them all piling in on top of her. Her daughters are very good to her. So I’ll be grand there.’
‘Have you no children of your own?’
‘Oh, indeed I do, daughter! I have seven of them. Four boys and three girls. Now they are all away. Living in Birmingham and Manchester and London. All over the place, they are. But they have families of their own now. They couldn’t be making it home just to see me! I wouldn’t want them to anyway. I have me own way of doin things. And I don’t want to be bothering anyone. As long as I can keep moving, I don’t care. Mind you, havin said tha, I do have trouble wit me aul hands. The arthritis does be crippling me. That’s why I wear the aul gloves,’ he said, lifting up his hands, showing them to me.
‘Ah, God help yeh. Old age is an awful curse! It’s without mercy,’ I said, seeing the swelling of his knuckles through the gloves. ‘Well, it was lovely talking to you. I better make a move, it’s beginning to get late,’ I said. Looking out at the darkness coming down fast. I reached in under the counter to take up me box and put me books in, lifting the box into me arms, and made me way out the door, hearing the bell ring overhead, letting the man know when customers were coming into the shop. ‘Goodbye now. Look after yourself, and a very happy Christmas to you,’ I said, making me way happily out the door.
‘And a very happy Christmas to you, too,’ he said, holding the door and gently shutting it behind me, making it ring again.
I wandered out into the dark streets, seeing
the Christmas lights glittering in the dark night, with the rain drizzling down. The air was alive with the excitement of people rushing for buses to take them home, and others making a mad dash to reach the shops before they closed for the Christmas. I waited at the traffic lights again, wanting to get back on the other side of o’Connell Street to get the bus back to Drumcondra. I made it across and wandered down, looking at the big cars stopping outside the Gresham Hotel. I stared over at the very glamorous-looking women, all made up with their hair shiny and piled up in curls. They had themselves wrapped in fur coats, with long frocks trailing underneath. I watched with me eyes hanging out of me head as they tottered on big high heels, holding onto the arms of men in long expensive overcoats rushing into the hotel for their dinner. one gorgeous woman swung her legs out of a big Rolls-Royce, then put out her hand, waiting for the man to take her arm and help her up while the doorman wearing a uniform held the car door open for her. She stood up, taking the man’s arm held out for her, and swept towards the hotel with a long brown fur coat rushing out behind her. Wearing her honey-coloured-looking hair pinned at the back of her head, with the top coming back in waves. I watched her, with me eyes hanging out of me head on stalks. She swept herself up the steps like she owned the place and marched into the hotel with her head held in the air.
Mother a Christ! That takes more than money! I bet her face isn’t even that good-looking close up! But she acts with the greatest of ease, like she is the most important person in the whole world, and nobody is more beautiful then her. Hmm! How do you get to be like that? I wonder what it must be like to be one of them. Imagine going in there all dressed up to the nines. With loads of money in your pocket, and not have to worry about the prices! No! That’s a long long way from where I am now. But one day I will be able to do that. There’s only one way to go in this world when you are at the bottom. Start climbing right to the top. Yeah! There’s nothing to stop me. I will get there some day!
I put me box down on the ground at the queue waiting for the bus and looked behind me at the film showing in the Carlton picture house. Alfred Hitchcock. The Birds. People were standing in a queue waiting to go in. I wonder if I should go in now and see it? I’m not going anywhere in a hurry, and I can please meself!
I couldn’t make up me mind. I stood at the bus stop, looking around at all the people rushing in all directions. Mothers hurried past, carrying big shopping bags with food bursting out. The husbands carrying big boxes wrapped up in brown paper. one man carried a child’s two-wheeler bike, with ribbons hanging off the handlebars and a silver bell. He carried a big box under his other arm in a Clerys bag. The box stuck out at the top, showing the face of a big doll with long fair hair with a red ribbon tied in a bow. I stared at it. The doll was standing upright behind the see-through plastic cover.
‘Come on, hurry. We might yet catch that bus,’ the woman puffed, looking at the man and trying to run with the heavy bags.
‘Here! You take this,’ he said, stopping to take one of the heavy bags off her and handing her the long narrow box with the doll. They swapped over and took off again, rushing to get the bus coming to a stop further down. Everyone seemed to have someone with them. Even the ones rushing somewhere seemed to have a purpose. Except the very old. I watched an old woman walk past slowly, taking her time, carrying her few messages with a far-away, distant look in her tired old face.
I suddenly felt a bit lost. I could feel me heart sinking. Everyone seems to have someone. Maybe it’s not such a good idea to go back to the room just yet. I could stay in town a bit longer, keep with the crowds. I looked around, seeing the cars and buses and vans flying past, puffing out blue smoke, stopping and starting in a mad rush, blowing their horns at each other, and the twinkling of the Christmas lights, making it feel like I was a part of something magic. I might meet someone nice, have a chat, pass away a bit of time. Then I wouldn’t feel so left out. I could go down to Caffola’s Café and have a cup of coffee made on milk. I could sit there and watch the crowds coming and going. once I’m back there in the room, it will be very quiet. Pity I don’t have a little transistor radio. That would be great company. But they are too expensive. I’m sure one of them would set me back about ten shillings. No, forget that.
Ah, bloody hell! Make up your mind, Martha. Will I go in and see the film or not? I love chillers. Alfred Hitchcock is great. But on the other hand it might frighten the life out of me, now that I’ll be in the place on me own. I might start getting all sort of mad ideas, like someone trying to break in! Jaysus! I think I’m just tired. Maybe I should keep moving. Anyway, this box is too heavy and awkward to be dragging around the town. On top of that, it’s getting very dark and late. Maybe I should get the bus and go back. I was in great form earlier. Yeah! I have me books to read. No bleedin Molly watching me every move, screaming at me night and day. Yeah! It’s grand. I’ll have the time of me life. Eating, sleeping, reading me books, and no one to bother me. What more could I want? Right! I can always go to the pictures another day. I’ll go back, and take it easy. Get meself sorted. I can even have a nice warm bath and get into bed with me new hot-water bottle and have something lovely to eat. Yeah! That’s what I’ll do. I’ll get the bus back. I’ll be grand. Happy Christmas to me! Happy Christmas to me! ‘I’m go . . . ing to ha . . . ve a lovely! lovely time!’ I sang to meself, happily waiting for the bus to come.
The bus heaved in, coming slowly to a stop. I could see it was chopper blocked. People were standing, holding onto the bars. The queue moved up, with everyone tightening in behind each other’s backs. I picked up me box and checked to see I had me handbag on me arm. The queue waited to let people off, and the conductor leaned out off the platform with his arm outstretched, letting some of the people on. Then he barred the way of the rest, shouting, ‘That’s it! We’re full up! There’s another bus on the way.’
‘When will it get here, Conductor?’ a woman asked, standing at the top of the queue.
‘It’s about five minutes behind me.’ Then he banged hell out of the bell, hanging off the platform to make sure no one jumped on. The bus moved off slowly, rocking from side to side, threatening to overbalance with the weight it was carrying.
‘More like five hours!’ the woman at the top muttered to the crowd of us all staring after the bus. I would walk it easily, only for this heavy box, I thought to meself.
I looked over to see the crowd had started moving into the picture house. Girls and fellas laughed, the girls holding bags of sweets and some even had little boxes of chocolates. I have a box for meself for over the Christmas, to go with me books, I thought happily. Yeah! It will be nice to get in out of the cold.
I started to stamp me feet up and down, feeling the chill going up through me. A man standing in front of me rubbed his hands together, and started banging his feet on the ground. ‘Cold aul night,’ he said, looking past me to the woman behind.
‘Indeed it is. We’ll get our death a cold standing out here in this damp miserable aul night before we’re done!’ she said, wrinkling her mouth and turning her nose up in disgust, then leaning off the footpath to throw her head down the road, looking for any sign of the bus coming.
‘Ah, I intend milling in to the aul drop a whiskey when I get home,’ he said. Rubbing his hands faster together, smiling, and grinning from ear to ear at the lovely thought hitting him.
‘Jaysus!’ she said, shaking her head from side to side at him. Looking like she was going to start crying any minute. ‘I can’t wait to get in the door and boil the teapot for a hot sup a tea, and get me feet up for a few minutes. Dem shops was black with people today. I should have had more sense then to go into town, today of all days. Jaysus Christ almighty! The crush was something terrible!’
‘Ah, don’t talk,’ he said, like he had something even better to say. ‘I’m just knocking off work now. The missus will be going ninety to the dozen giving out when I get in the door. Complaining about gettin knocked senseless. Sure she had to do the same th
ing. Rush into town this morning to get a few last-minute things,’ he said, thinking about it.
‘Yeah, the whole world and his wife was in dem shops today,’ the woman sighed, the energy going out of her face, feeling tired now it was over. We all stood in silence, waiting and stretching our necks down the long street, hoping every bus coming was ours.
‘No, not stopping!’ people would say. Staring like mad after a bus flashing past us, with passengers hanging out of it. ‘Too full to take us.’
The bus was finally coming. Everyone moved up, staring to see if there was room. I looked behind me, seeing a long queue of people stretching far behind, nearly going to the next bus stop. I held me box in front. ‘The first six people!’ the conductor roared, hanging off the bus with his arms wrapped around the pole showing six fingers. People made a dive, and I held me ground.
The woman up front was pushed sideways. ‘Here! Stop pushing. I’m first!’ she screamed.
‘Everyone back!’ the conductor shouted, putting out his hand to stop people skipping. ‘Let that woman on. Who’s next?’ He stood on the side of one entrance, watching people carefully, doing a head count. I was the fourth and jumped up, pushing me box forward to get me going. ‘That’s it! No more room!’ the conductor roared, racing to bang the bell and keeping his eye on the people trying to jump on. ‘Off! No more!’ he shouted, pushing the people off trying to lift their leg onto the moving bus. ‘Move up along the bus!’ he shouted. ‘Come on! Move up there.’ He was pushing people behind me and they were pushing me. I held me box out in front of me, and it was getting crushed into me chest. Jaysus! Pity I can’t put this thing down.
I held on, with the bus waving from side to side with the weight it was carrying. Then I was landed into the lap of a big fat woman wearing a long see-through plastic raincoat. I was still holding onto me box, and for a second it was lovely to get the weight of the box off me, and feel like I had a cushion under me, sitting on her soft lap. ‘Do you mind!’ she roared in a very grand voice. Pushing me up with her two hands outstretched. I heaved meself to a standing position, pushing the box out in front of me, then trying to plant me feet, with the bus waving from side to side. A man standing in front of me was leaning over a seat, hanging onto the bar, and I rested the box on his back. He kept looking back at me with a glare on his face, and trying to move away from me. But there was nowhere for him to go, and he had to put up with it.