by Martha Long
A long time passed. But then sure enough there was another bang on the door. ‘Tickets! Will you come out, please!’ Me ma put her face in her hands, an I stared at the door. ‘Open this door, please. I’m not leavin until you open the door!’ Me ma dropped her hands, an she was white as a sheet. She put out the palms of her hands te show we were caught.
‘I can’t come out, Mister! I’ve an awful pain in me belly!’ I moaned. ‘Ah! Me stomach is killin me!’ an I gave a big fartin noise outa me mouth, stickin me tongue out.
‘How long are you in there?’ he asked after a minute.
‘Ah! Oh, me stomach. Just before you knocked. An I’m not comin out fer a long while,’ I moaned, ‘cos someone else got here before me. An they made me wait an hour.’
‘All right, love, sorry to bother you.’
‘Ah! Mammy! This is terrible,’ I moaned. Then I opened me eyes after I heard his footsteps goin. An me ma was suffocatin herself, stuffin her coat in her nose an mouth, tryin te stop herself from laughin.
‘God Almighty! I thought there fer a minute we were had.’
‘He’s gone, Ma!’
‘Yeah! But he might come back.’
I slid against the sink, tryin te ease the stiffness in me. An we waited. At last! The train slowed down an then came te a stop. We waited until we heard the crowds movin an the doors openin, then we pulled the door open quickly an moved inta the crowds an got carried down the station, keepin our eye on the ticket collectors at the gate.
We moved past them quickly, without lookin at them. An we were free! Out an onta the street, an we stood lookin at London. Red buses flyin up an down. Taxis, cars an crowds a people headin in all different directions. ‘Where will we go, Ma?’ I said, feelin I owned the world.
‘Paddington!’ me ma said. ‘We’ll go te Paddington.’
‘Oh, Ma! This is the life. We made it!’
‘Yeah!’ me ma said, laughin. ‘Come on this way. We’ll go fer the bus.’
I knelt on the seat beside me ma, an we were on the bus headin fer Paddington. I stared inta the face of two black men wit woolly hair, talkin te each other in a foreign language. They stopped talkin when they saw me starin at them. An they stared back. I didn’t blink, an just stared harder. I’d never seen a black person before. Only half-castes, but these men were black as the ace of spades. An their teeth was so white. An I wanted te study them.
‘How did ye get so black?’ I asked them.
Their mouths dropped, an they looked at each other, an one fella said, ‘You are a very rude little girl!’
‘Ye’re very touchy!’ I said, gettin annoyed. ‘I only asked ye a civil question. An I wouldn’t mind, but ye’s weren’t sayin tha when the nuns at school roared at us te bring in a penny te help the little black babbies an then bring in more money fer the missionary priests te go out an convert ye’s all in Africa.’
I said it all in one big breath an then waited te hear wha they had te say. They just stared at me, sayin nothin. I was very annoyed. ‘Yeah! But there’s somethin else ye should know.’ I paused; they waited. ‘None of ye’s got my penny, cos I wasn’t bothered about any black babbies needin te know about God. Ye’s could find tha out fer yerselves, cos I was spendin the penny on meself. So wha do ye’s think about tha then?’
‘Well!’ yer man said, smilin at me. ‘I think you were a very wise little girl.’
‘Yes,’ I said, feelin happier wit them. ‘An I think them nuns kept back half the money fer themselves. Did ye’s get much money from them?’
‘No, we didn’t!’ they said, laughin.
An I was just beginnin te enjoy meself when me ma stood up an said, ‘Come on! This is our stop.’
‘I have te go now, we’re gettin off,’ an I waved at them. An they waved back, smilin.
We got off the bus, passin shops, an I wanted te wander in an have a look. ‘No!’ me ma said. ‘We can’t dilly-dally. We have te find somewhere te stay.’
‘OK, Ma,’ I said, rushin after her.
We passed the train station an then came te rows of big houses. Some were big houses wit steps up te them. An some had railins aroun them. Me ma was lookin from one side of the road te the other. ‘To Let,’ one sign said in the winda. ‘No Irish! No dogs! No coloureds! No children!’
‘They don’t like the Irish, Ma,’ I said.
‘No! Too much trouble,’ me ma said.
‘Why, Ma?’ I asked.
‘Ah! They’re always drinkin an fightin.’
‘Yeah! Ye’re right there, Ma. But no childre? They won’t take me?’
‘No!’ me ma said. ‘It’s hard te get a room wit childre.’ We walked on, lookin fer rooms te let.
‘Ma!’ I said. ‘Tell them I’m yer sister. Ye’d pass fer tha, an maybe I’d get away wit tellin them I’m thirteen! Tha’s not a child! Will we do tha, Ma?’ I said, lookin at her. ‘If ye tell them I’m eleven, they’ll only keep shuttin the door on our faces. Them last three houses we knocked on just took one look at us an slammed the door. “No children,” they roared when they saw me. So if you go in on yer own, an I’ll wait up the road, we’ll have a better chance.’ Me ma looked at me, chewin her lip an thinkin. ‘Try tha, Ma,’ I said, feelin desperate. ‘I’m gettin very tired. We’ve been walkin all day.’
‘OK, I’ll try in here, you wait aroun the corner,’ me ma said.
I sat down on the steps of a big house te wait, hopin me ma would get somethin. It’d be lovely if she got somewhere fer us te stay. But how are we goin te pay fer it? Me ma’s not great at findin her way aroun things. I’ll have te start thinkin. But wha? I’m too tired te bother about anythin this minute. I just want te lie down an get a good sleep.
I pulled me frock aroun me knees, feelin the cold go up me now. It must be near the evenin. I watched people goin past, all in a hurry, goin in different directions. People looked at me an turned away, like I’m not supposed te be sittin here. A lot of them were better dressed than ye see in Dublin, but they didn’t stop te talk te ye. Some of them give ye such a bad look ye’d think they were afraid of catchin a disease from me. Pity about them!
I heard knockin an looked aroun te see where it’s comin from. An aul one wit a blue rinse in her hair an glasses on the end of her nose was starin at me like she wanted te commit murder. ‘Go away, shoo!’ she roared through the glass. I kept lookin, wonderin who she was tellin te shoo. I looked aroun me, but there was no dog shittin on her steps.
‘Me!’ I mouthed, puttin me hand te me chest.
‘Yes!’ she shook her head up an down.
I was ragin. ‘I’m not a dog! Ye can’t tell me te shoo!’
‘I’m callin the police,’ she roared.
‘Fuck you an yer police!’ I roared back. ‘Ye aul hag.’
She dropped the curtain an rushed off. I stood fer a second, me chest still heavin up an down wit the rage! I’m not dirt, I thought. The cheek a her! Treatin me like an animal. Still, I’d better clear off. An I rushed aroun the corner, headin fer the house me ma went te. I was runnin up the steps, ready te ring the bell, when the door opened, an me ma came out wit a woman. Me ma was smilin. ‘There ye are, I was just comin te get ye.’
I looked back te see if aul blue rinse was after me, an I puffed out, ‘Ma! Wha’s happenin?’ An the two of them stopped te look at me. Me ma’s face went red, an she started blinkin. I knew somethin was wrong, but wha?
‘I thought you said she was your sister, and she certainly looks a lot younger than thirteen!’ The woman was lookin at me, very annoyed, an then te me ma, waitin fer an answer. Ah, Jaysus! I gave the game away.
‘Eh! Mrs, she is me sister, aren’t ye, Kathleen?’ Me ma blinked an coughed, lookin very confused altogether. ‘But ye see, Mrs, she’s been lookin after me since me granny died as a babby.’
‘Your granny?’
‘Eh! No, I only say tha cos I think more of her. Kathleen is like me mammy, ye see! An I am thirteen. I’m just very small fer me age. Ye’re not alone at all, Mrs, fer
thinkin me a child. I just look young, but I’m not! Everyone’s always mistakin me fer a child!’
I looked at her, hopin she’d let us stay. She let go of me eyes an turned away, headin down the hall. ‘I’m not really sure,’ she was mutterin. ‘My policy is no children. We only take workin people here.’
Me ma dug me in the ribs wit her elbow. ‘I’ll kill you! I told ye te stay outa sight,’ she muttered through gritted teeth.
Ah, fuck! Nothin’s goin right, I thought te meself as yer woman showed us inta the vacant room. ‘This is the room, then.’ I looked aroun. It was a single bed under the winda, wit one chair an a little wardrobe. The room was tiny, an there was room only fer one person at a time. The woman stood in the room an I peeped in the door, an me Ma leaned over me.
‘Yeah!’ me ma said happily. ‘As I said, I’ll take it! It will do us grand, won’t it, Martha?’
‘Oh, yeah! Ma! Kathleen.’
‘Fine,’ the woman said. ‘Well, the rent, as I said, is three pounds a week, and you pay the first week in advance. So if you give me three pounds now, you can take the room.’
We all watched as me ma counted out the three pounds an handed it te the woman. She gave us a key fer the room but no hall door key. ‘I’m always awake,’ she said, ‘providing you don’t come back too late. I will answer the door and, please remember,’ she said, lookin at me, ‘you have to be quiet. We have people getting up very early and leaving for work.’
‘Yes, Mrs!’ I said.
‘Thanks very much, Mam!’ me ma said. An she was out the door an gone.
I looked at the bed an out the winda. Me ma looked aroun the room. ‘Jaysus! I’ll bet they used te keep the sweepin brushes in here,’ me ma said, lookin very downhearted.
‘Yeah,’ I agreed. ‘And the bed is very narra.’
Me ma looked at wha was left of our money, foldin up the ten bob I got from the boxer an countin the silver. ‘Fifteen shillins an threepence! Tha’s all we have left te last us.’
‘Tha’s not much, Ma. We’re goin te have te find a way te live. An we’re not stoppin here long.’
‘No! We’re gettin outa here as quick as we can,’ me ma said, takin off her coat an shoes. ‘Let’s get inta tha bed, I’m worn out.’
‘Good idea, Ma,’ an I whipped off me shoes, sittin on the bed. ‘Jaysus! Lookit, Ma. Holes in me shoes, they’re gone. An me socks are in ribbons as well.’
‘Ah!’ me ma said. ‘Mine are not much better, an I haven’t even got a comb te tidy me hair.’
‘Ah, never mind, Ma, we’ll be grand,’ I said, pullin the frock over me head an divin under the white sheets an blankets. Me ma climbed in beside me, an I was squeezed inta the wall. ‘Give us a bit a room, Ma! I’m suffocatin.’
She laughed an pushed out a bit. ‘You an yer sister. An then tellin her I’m Kathleen.’
‘Yeah, Ma! Ye never give them yer right name.’
‘I know tha. But then the poor aul one was blind, bothered an bewildered when ye started on about the granny! She knows bloody well we’re tellin her a pack of lies!’ We laughed our heads off, an then I snuggled inta me ma’s back an started te doze off.
I woke up, shootin me eyes open, an me ma was sittin on the side of the bed. Me heart lifted. We’re in London! I sat up an looked out the winda. Traffic was flyin, an people were on the move. ‘God, Ma, we slept. It’s late!’
‘Yeah! It must be aroun the eleven mark. We better get movin before tha aul one comes in an starts askin questions.’
‘Right, Ma! Let’s go,’ I said, jumpin outa the bed an inta me frock, an puttin on me dirty socks wit no feet in them, the hole went right up the back, an the shoes wit the soles gone outa them. I wet me fingers an pressed me hair down, waitin fer me ma te button up her coat.
‘Right! Have we got everythin?’ she said, lookin aroun the room.
‘Yeah! Have ye got the money?’ I asked.
‘Yeah, I have it here,’ an she pressed her hand on her pocket, an we headed out the door. We walked down the long hall wit the strip of carpet in the middle an doors on the left an stairs leadin down te the basement.
The door down the stairs opened, an the landlady poked her head out. ‘Are you off out, then?’
‘Yes,’ me ma said. ‘We’re just goin out. We won’t be back until later.’ An she slammed the door an went back in, takin the lovely smell a rashers an sausages wit her. ‘Miserable aul cow!’ me ma muttered under her breath. ‘Hope she chokes on her rashers. God forgive me!’
‘Yeah, Ma! No fear of her offerin us any,’ I said, bangin the door behind me.
We went down the steps, an the excitement hit me on seein all the strange people an cars an red buses. A policeman wit a huge helmet on his head an a string under his chin was rockin backwards an forwards on his heels. He was standin on the edge of the footpath watchin the traffic. ‘Lookit him, Ma, a policeman.’ I stood te stare. Then a woman in a brown fur coat, holdin a little white poodle on a lead, walked past. ‘Look, Ma, a poodle.’
‘Yeah! Come on!’ me ma said, walkin on.
I stooped down te pet the poodle, an it yelped an bit me. I whipped me hand back, suckin it, an the woman whipped the dog up inta her arms, sayin, ‘Oh! Mamma’s little Tiddles got a fright from that naughty child,’ an she glared at me.
‘The cheek a you, Mrs!’ I roared. ‘Tha thing nearly took the hand offa me.’
‘How dare you touch my dog!’ she screamed, an marched off.
I watched her go, an then I saw the policeman lookin at me, an I whirled aroun lookin fer me ma, an she was gone! ‘Ma! Ma!’ I roared, runnin up the street, wonderin where she’d got te without me. I couldn’t see any sign of her, an it hit me, I’m lost! ‘Where are ye, Mammy?’ I screamed in rage an fright. I ducked in an outa the crowds a people, an when I got te the traffic light, I didn’t know which way te go. Cross here or turn right, which way? Me face was gettin hot, an I was startin te cry. She’s gone off an left me! I ran halfway across the road an then turned back, runnin inta cars an buses, an makin them stop, an headed up the right turn instead, an kept runnin.
Then I heard me name called, an stopped, lookin aroun at the crowds te see where the voice was comin from. ‘Martha! Here! Here I am!’ I couldn’t see her. I was whirlin all aroun, runnin up an down lookin fer her. ‘Over here, Martha!’ An I looked on the other side a the road, an there she was, standin an wavin at me outside a café.
‘Ma!’ I roared, delighted te clap eyes on her again. I raced across the road, not waitin fer the traffic te stop. An they all honked their horns at me. An I leapt onta the footpath, roarin at me ma. ‘Ye left me! Ye went off an left me,’ I said, cryin.
‘I was here,’ me ma said, laughin. ‘Waitin fer ye, but ye didn’t see me. Ye ran off in the opposite direction.’
I looked at her an thought, there’s nothin te laugh at. I didn’t want te talk te her.
‘Come on in here, an we’ll get a pot a tea,’ she said, tryin te make peace wit me. I followed her in an we sat down at a table.
‘What are you hollerin about?’ a workman sittin at the next table wit another fella asked me, laughin an shovellin a big plate a rashers, an sausages, an beans, an fried bread inta his mouth.
Me ma laughed. ‘Oh! She’s a devil,’ me ma said. ‘She won’t stay wit me. Every time I look aroun, she’s gone.’
The waitress came over an me ma asked fer a pot a tea. ‘An bread an butter, Ma!’ I said.
‘No!’ me ma said. ‘The prices in here are too dear. We’ll get a loaf a bread later an a bit a cheese in the shops. I have te watch the money,’ she said, leanin inta me. But I could see the men were listenin. They never took their eyes offa us.
‘Are you over from Ireland?’ they asked me ma.
‘Yes! An we’re still tryin te find our way aroun.’ The waitress put the pot a tea on the table, an me ma poured it out, puttin plenty a milk in.
‘I’ve got a place across the street. I’m doin it up now if you want to come and take a look.
The rooms are big, and the rent is cheap. It shouldn’t take me too long te finish it. Do you want to come?’
Me ma looked at me. ‘Tha would be lovely if we got somewhere of our own. Wouldn’t it, Martha?’
‘Yeah, Ma! Let’s go an take a look,’ I said, delighted. We drank our tea, emptyin the pot, an the men waited fer us an brought us across the street an inta a hall an closed the front door behind us. I looked up at the high ceilins, an the plaster was gone off the walls. An there was no staircase, only a ladder leanin against the landin.
‘Come on!’ the man said te me, pushin me up the ladder.
‘Oh! I’m not gettin on tha,’ me ma said, lookin at the ladder. ‘I’m afraid of me life a heights.’
‘It’s no bother,’ he said, pushin me up the ladder. Then I was on the landin, an the man was takin me arm. I was lookin down at the ladder, an me ma wasn’t comin up. ‘In here,’ he said te me, pullin me inta a room wit only a bed an shuttin the door. I stood lookin aroun, wonderin wha was happenin. An he pulled down his trousers, exposin his horrible hairy arse an the long thing stickin out between his legs. Me heart started te pound, an he grabbed me an threw me down on the bed. An he pulled up me frock an tore me knickers, rippin them offa me body wit one hand, an holdin me chest down wit his other hand. I started te panic an kicked me legs tryin te turn meself. An he was on top of me an tryin te push tha horrible thing inta me. The pain was like a red-hot knife, an I gave a piercin scream. He stopped an grabbed a pilla te put under me arse. ‘Now, now! This won’t hurt you,’ he kept sayin.
‘Let me go! Please, Mister!’ I was whimperin. I could hear me ma askin fer me downstairs, but she wasn’t comin up. The man tried te push himself inta me again. An I started te get sick. But I couldn’t breathe then, cos he was on top a me. An he kept pushin, an the pain, an tryin te get sick. I could feel everythin goin dark.
Then it was light again, an the pressure was gone, an the pain like a knife goin through me was stopped. An the man was kneelin over me an wipin himself wit the blanket. An me belly an between me legs was sticky wit somethin, an it was just like Jackser all over again. I jumped up, feelin a terrible pain between me legs. An I was standin on the floor, lookin fer me knickers an me shoes. I saw me pink knickers on the bed, an I couldn’t put them on, cos they were torn, an I bent down te put on me shoes. I was shakin an afraid fer me life. Cos I didn’t know wha he might do te me next.