by Martha Long
‘I’m heading up to get the bus for Harold’s Cross,’ I said, waiting for him.
‘You go on then. I want teh make me way in me own time. I’ll say goodbye to yeh,’ he said. Waving his bags at me, and took off slowly. Twisting himself from right to left, trying to make his way in terrible pain. I walked on ahead, looking back and waving, giving him a big smile. Then took off up the quays, hurrying to get back to the flat and the girls. Poor man, he’s at the end of his days. He’s one of the loveliest people I have met in a long time. If people only knew. You have to get beyond the smell and the dirt. Then you meet someone that makes life worth living.
So that’s how you end up becoming a down-and-out! You just stop bothering! I always wondered about that. Why people don’t try to make a home for themself. Me and the ma were different. We were looking for a home. Ah, Gawd love him. The life just went out of him, after the shock of his mammy not wanting him. Fuck! I would never bother wanting to know who me aul fella was. If he was any good in the first place, he wouldn’t have run off leaving me ma carrying me in her belly. So fuck him! Whoever he is. He caused me ma all the trouble in the first place. So I don’t want to know the bastard.
I woke up hearing noises. I lifted me head off the pillow, looking around, seeing girls shifting their heads and squinting at the door. I whirled me head around, seeing a little old woman with stone-grey thin hair pulled up in a bun making her way in the door.
‘No! I’m not having this. I’ve counted five people in these beds. There’s only supposed to be three of you. You can all get out! I want you all out of this flat today! Now get up, the lot of you, and get moving off my property.’
‘Who is it?’
‘What’s happening?’ people muttered. Trying to open their eyes from the sleep and make out what’s going on.
‘It’s the landlady. Girls! We’re caught,’ someone muttered. I stuck me head back under the bedclothes, feeling me heart sinking. Ah, bloody hell! That’s the end of me. I’m out on me arse! Still, today is Saturday. I knew I was going to have to go anyway. I don’t want to be here when that mad cow Harriet Miller turns up this morning. I’m sleeping in her bed. Jaysus! She will go mental when she hears that. That one never liked me. I had to do all her work and me own when we were in the convent. Everyone was afraid of her bad temper. Especially Sister Eleanor. But, then again, she really liked the Miller one. She was her favourite. Harriet darling this. And Harriet darling that! It used to make me sick listening to the pair of them throwing bouquets at each other. They had a mutual-admiration society going for themselves. That Sister Eleanor thought the sun shined out of Miller’s fat arse. That’s why I ended up getting stuck with all her work. But I wasn’t afraid of her. Oh no, not me! I made mincemeat outa her when she crossed me. Ah, I have had enough of that carry on.
There’s going to be skin, teeth and hair flying when they all wake up and come to their senses and it dawns on them they were just flung out on their arses. Fuck! Especially when Miller gets here. Expecting to have a welcome party waiting for her. Only to be told, I can hear it now, ‘No, sorry, Etta’ – that’s what her friends call her – ‘we can’t stay! The landlady has just thrown us out!’
‘Why?’
‘Because we had too many in the flat. Martha Long was sleeping in your bed!’
‘WHAT?’
‘Yeah! Well, yeh see, we found her rambling around town . . .’
‘SO WHAT?’
‘So we let her stay . . . in your bed!’
Right, I better make meself scarce. What will I do? Get meself off into town and ring Sister Eleanor. Oh, please, God, grant she’s back in the convent, and she will be able to get me a job.
I threw off the bedclothes, hearing them all arguing. ‘Whose idea was it to invite that Long one?’ I threw me eye over in the direction of the roar. Seeing the Linda Bradshaw one suddenly wake herself up, flying her finger at me. ‘Without her being here, the landlady wouldn’t have thrown us out!’ she roared, squinting at me with her lip curled up.
‘Don’t worry,’ Laura said, yawning and throwing the bedclothes back. ‘I’ll say we just invited a few friends to stay. You all missed your bus home and we’re sorry. It won’t happen again. We will just have to hide when she’s coming.’
‘What do you mean hide? I’m not hiding when I’m paying the rent!’
‘Well, some of us will have to!’ shouted Laura.
‘How can we, when she has the key and sneaks in when we’re all sleeping?’
‘Thanks, Laura, for letting me stay,’ I said, putting on me clothes and grabbing me suitcase to make me way out of here.
‘I’m sorry we can’t let you stay, Martha, but there’s too many of us as it is,’ she said, wrinkling her face at me, and screwing her eyes up.
‘Yeah, one too many,’ muttered Bradshaw, examining a dirty jumper, deciding to turn it back to front, and snorting over at me. Making her hatchet face look even uglier than it is.
‘Ah, no,’ I said, ignoring the cow and talking to Laura. ‘I understand, Laura. It was very good of you to let me stay in the first place. Thanks a million for everything. I’m off. I’ll probably see you around,’ I said, making me way out the door, feeling glad to be going.
I don’t want to hang around with them miserable cows. They would put years on you, with the moaning and fighting and dirty looks they give you. Except Laura and Anna. They’re very nice. But the rest can go and fuck themself! Anywhere and nowhere is better then having to put up with the likes of them.
Right, here we go! I pushed me way up O’Connell Street, hanging onto last night’s Evening Herald, held tight under me arm. Diving in and out of the Saturday shoppers, with everyone in a rush for the shops, hoping to get in and out before the crowds started pouring in. Only everyone had the same idea at the same time. Now we were all falling over each other.
‘Mind me legs wit tha bleedin case a yours!’
‘Sorry, missus,’ I said to the aul one with a dying-looking face on her, after she sent me flying with a push because I bumped her legs.
She stopped to look down at her nylons. ‘Looka! Yer after givin me a ladder in me new nylons,’ she snorted, looking down at the ladder snaking itself up her right leg. ‘The curse a Jaysus on yeh,’ she muttered, fixing the brown mohair hat on her head, and looking at me with two crossed eyes.
‘Well, pity about you and your nylons,’ I snorted. ‘It was an accident. You ran into me an that serves yeh right for pushing me,’ I said. Giving her a dirty look and rushing into the GPO to ring about the job working in an Italian fish-and-chip shop I just saw in last night’s paper. God, it was lucky I spotted that! It wasn’t in the domestic section. It goes to show you. I should never take anything for granted. You have to go through the whole paper with a fine-tooth comb. Oh, dear God, grant that I may get the job. If I do, then that means I won’t have to bother ringing Sister Eleanor and get the ear blasted offa me.
‘Allo!’
‘Yeah, hello. I’m ringing about the job you advertised, looking for a girl to work in the fish-and-chip café! Is the job still vacant?’
‘You wait a minute. I get the wife to talk wit you. She know about dis.’
‘Hellooo!’
‘Yes, I’m ringing about the job. Is it still vacant?’ I held me breath, squeezing the phone tight, waiting with me mouth open.
‘Yes, I look for someone. Ave you got the experience working in a café before?’
‘Yes, oh indeed I have. I’m very experienced!’
‘You sound young! How old are you?’
‘Me, no, I’m working for years. I’m sixteen.’
‘How long you working?’
‘Eh, three years. Straight after I left school.’
‘You leave the school at thirteen?’
‘Eh, yeah, well . . . I thought I was fourteen at the time.’
‘OK, I don’t care. I just want ta know you are not stupid. Can you count? You know how to work the cash register?’
&
nbsp; ‘Yes, I’m very quick.’
‘Do you have references? Where you work last?’
‘Eh, can I come down and see you? It would be easier if you could meet me face to face.’
‘OK, you can start today, I will give you a trial. If I don’t like you, you go out the door. No messing! The job is live-in with the family. You free to do that?’
‘Yes, that will suit me down to the ground,’ I said.
‘OK, see you around four o’clock. Goodbye.’
‘Bye!’ I roared as she hung up the phone. I got the job! Oh, my God! I have a job. And in a café! I just can’t believe me good luck.
I hopped off the bus in Hangman’s Wood, seeing the row of shops. Oh, there’s the supermarket where I used to rob me butter. Bloody hell! I spent one time sitting half the night in a police station after getting picked up with a load a butter in me bag. The shop called the police after I made out the door with them chasing after me. The two aul fellas ran like the hammers of hell after me, but they didn’t catch me. I ducked back later, and picked up the rest of me butter that I had hidden under the wheels of a car parked down a laneway. That’s when I got picked up by the coppers. Walking along in the dark evening with me bag full of butter. They spent the time driving around trying to spot me. They struck lucky. I spent the rest of the night haggling with a lovely-looking copper with snow-white curly hair being very nice to me. Because he was trying to get me to admit I’d robbed the lot. I wouldn’t give in, knowing they had no proof. Because most of the butter didn’t belong to the shop that got me arrested. In the end, I admitted to robbing the butter only from that shop. I ended up in court for that anyway. But I managed to hold onto the sixteen other pounds of butter. Yer man kept telling me he had children too. He only wanted to help me! I didn’t believe a word out of his mouth. He was a copper. They would sell their own mothers to make a case. But I liked him anyway! He was very nice to me.Yeah!
I gave a big sigh of contentment as I headed into the fish-and-chip shop with the café. Knowing that other life was all behind me, and here I was out on me own. Making me own way in the world, with no one to tell me what I can and can’t do. Life is definitely a bowl of cherries!
I stood in front of the counter, waiting while the Italian fella with the jet-black wavy hair, slicked back with half a bottle of Brylcreem emptied on his head, finished serving a customer. ‘Yes, what you want?’ he said, throwing his head back, looking at me with big brown chocolate-drop eyes, then smacking a load of chips into the shelf under the window for everyone to see what they were getting.
‘I’m looking for your mammy. She told me to start working here today.’
‘Who? The boss? She not my mamma! You stupid? Do I looka like her? My mamma, she a saint,’ he said mournfully. ‘She back in Calabria,’ he said, stabbing me with his eyes. Then whacking the hell out of the chips floating around in the boiling oil. Smacking the side of the metal handle of the spoon on the side of the fryer, trying to take lumps out of it.
Jaysus! I only asked him a civil question, I thought. Staring up at him, looking like he had the world on his shoulders. ‘OK! No need to be so touchy,’ I said quietly, wanting him to know I wasn’t trying to annoy him on purpose. ‘So, can you tell the boss I’m here? She’s expecting me.’
He let out an unmerciful roar in me ear. Shouting in Italian at someone inside a room. Then went back to humping his cooked chips inside the hot shelf under the window.
‘Sì?’ shouted a huge fat Italian mamma, coming to see what he wanted. She stood at the door into the back room, drying her hands on a dishcloth, listening to him sounding like he was giving out and throwing the head at me. I stood with me case in me hand and waited while she took me in from head to toe. Staring at me with an inquisitive look on her face. ‘You the one about the job?’
‘Yes, I rang you. I’m here now at four o’clock as you told me to be,’ I said, smiling happily at her.
‘Come on through,’ she said, flipping her hand at the touchy fella to lift the counter and let me in. ‘Come on, come in!’ she roared, waving her head at me, with the eyes never leaving me for a minute. Then she waddled off with me trailing in behind her, banging me suitcase against the touchy fella’s legs, with him standing there. Right in me way, gaping at me with his mouth open.
We headed into a sitting room that was a bit dark. I squinted around, trying to get me sight back after walking in from the bright lights in the shop. She pulled out a chair sitting under a big old table covered in a heavy wine tablecloth with tassels on the end, and a white linen lace cloth sat on top. ‘Sit down,’ she said, waving at me and heaving her huge heavy body into a chair that rocked and creaked. Then she steadied herself as she spread her arse, and lifted her big massive milkers, letting them drop and sink down onto the table. I watched as she leaned across with her tree-trunk arms to move a big red vase, stuffed with plastic roses covered in dust, so we could get a better look at each other across the table. I sat looking around at all the heavy old furniture. Two big armchairs sat, one each side of the fireplace, and two china dogs slobbered on the hearth. I looked around at the dark wine heavy flock wallpaper, with loads of pictures on the wall of the family. I suppose that’s who they are.
I stared up at the big one hanging over the fireplace, of a granny and granddad sitting up straight on two chairs. With sons and daughters standing behind them, and grandchildren resting their elbows on the grandparents’ laps. Everyone was looking very serious, like they didn’t trust the fella taking the photograph. They stood up straight, staring at the camera, looking very uncomfortable in their best clothes. With the men wearing hats, and suits that were too big for them. The women and girls wore black frocks, and had sulky looks on their faces. Much as to say to the fella taking the photograph, ‘I have to wear my best frock. I’m looking beautiful, but there is no one to admire me. No, I am cheated. I just stand here looking so good for this ugly little midget!’
The two little girls wore white frocks with white ribbons in their hair. They were tied up in a big bow that stood standing straight up on top of their heads. They looked like they wanted to smile, with the merriment dancing in their eyes, and their mouths ready to break out with all the laughing. But they didn’t. They held their faces fast on the camera, because someone would only shout, ‘Don’t smile! This is serious business! We don’t a want a make ourselves look like a the fools!’
They didn’t look very well-off to me. The suits hung off their skinny bodies, making them get completely lost. All you could see was a head, a few fingers sticking out of the sleeves, and the toe of the shoes. Because the trousers landed in rolls, burying their feet. That made me think they must have got the stuff from some rich people. Maybe rich relatives living in America, who were in the Mafia. Yeah, that could be it. I leaned me head over for a better look. Yeah, them suits certainly do look American all right. But most certainly, whoever owned them suits, they were better fed than this lot. The younger ones stood with their thumbs stuck in their breeches, trying to make themselves look manly.
‘So, how long you work in your last job?’ said the aul one, making me jump and turn me head to land back on her. I was forgetting for a minute what I was supposed to be here for. After letting meself get carried away, trying to make out the family in the photograph. I blinked, trying to take her in. The room was getting darker suddenly, with the heavy old curtains pulled tight across, not letting in any light. I wonder why she doesn’t bother to switch on the light. Maybe she’s sparing the electricity. Jackser used to do that. Saying we’d be cut off if we didn’t spare it.
‘Eh, nearly two years.’
‘You got references?’ she said, holding out her hand.
Oh, fuck! Here we go. I thought she said on the phone I had the job. Think fast. Don’t say you were fired. Suddenly, I heard meself saying, ‘Ah, yeah, Mrs, eh, Lipstop.’
‘Who?’
‘Yeah, she was a Jewish woman. A lovely person altogether,’ I said, shaking me head slow
ly, trying to think.
‘Jewish!’ she roared. ‘Wha kinda shop?’
Eh, oh, God! Me mind’s gone blank. Think, Martha! Fast! ‘They sold everything, missus! Coal, bananas . . . I mean fruit—’
‘Sì, sì, OK! But what about the references?’
‘Oh, yeah! I’m just getting to that. Well, you see, her husband died suddenly, and she sold the shop and took off with Mister O’Brien.’
‘Who ees dis mister? What you mean? They were no married?’ she said, waving her hands slowly in the air, looking shocked.
‘No,’ I whispered, looking even more shocked.
‘Sì! Continue,’ she said quietly. Waving her hands at me and shaking her massive chest, settling herself in for more comfort to hear this shocking scandal.
God, this better be good, Martha. ‘Yes, they were carrying on behind the poor husband’s back,’ I whispered, leaning meself across the table, giving a quick look around in case anyone was listening. Not wanting even the walls to hear the terrible goings-on. Then I paused, seeing her shocked face, and the eyes glittering with the excitement of hearing something shocking. She rattled her head up and down like mad, trying to get me to get on to the good bits. Then took a big swallow, pinning her eyes on me. Taking in every word I was saying.