by Martha Long
Then he went te the door an opened it, an I was grateful te be gettin outa here. An I followed behind him. But he pushed me back, an the other man was outside, an he smiled an came in. I started te make whimperin noises, an I could hear me ma sayin, ‘What are ye doin te her up there?’ An I screamed, ‘Mammy!’ An the man came in, an the other fella said, ‘Don’t worry! I’ll see yer woman downstairs won’t bother you. I’ll keep her occupied.’
I wanted te scream, but I was afraid they would hurt me mammy. Somethin was tellin me not te panic, or it would make things worse an they might harm us. But I had te find a way out. ‘Please, Mister! Don’t touch me! I want me mammy! Just let me go!’ I was tryin te back away from him an make him change his mind about wantin te hurt me. An not get on the wrong side of him in case he turned vicious an murdered us.
‘Get on the bed!’ he said. He was younger than the first man an jumped on top of me an was pressin even harder. The pain was nothin like anythin I ever had before. I gave a piercin scream, an he pushed even harder.
‘Police!’ I screamed, not carin, wantin the pain te stop. He put his hand over me mouth, an I was suffocatin. I’m dyin! It won’t last, I can’t breathe, an the pain is wha hell is. I was flyin through a tunnel. It was gettin darker now, an the noise in me ears, an the terrible pain, an the man’s heavy breathin, an the panic, is goin further away. I’m leavin it behind, an I know I’m dyin. An I don’t really mind, cos then it will be all over.
‘Are you all right?’ The man was starin inta me face, lookin worried an annoyed. I didn’t know wha was goin on. ‘Ye blacked out!’ he shouted inta me face. He was slappin me cheeks an shakin me aroun by me shoulders, an I was sittin up by the side of the bed. He was tryin te get me on me feet, but I couldn’t stand. I was made of air, an me legs wouldn’t work.
The older man came inta the room, lookin down at me. ‘Is she all right?’ He looked worried.
‘Yeah! She’ll be all right. Just a blackout!’ the younger fella said, brushin his hair back wit his hand, sayin, ‘I want te get out of here. I thought she was a goner!’
‘No, we’ll get her out.’
It was comin back te me, an I wanted te stand an go as fast as I could. I stood up, feelin me legs like jelly, an held onta the bed. An I started te make me way te the door. ‘There you go,’ said the older man. ‘She’s right as rain.’ Then he put his hand inta his pocket an handed me six shillins. I looked at it, not wantin the money. He’s no right te give me money after wha they did te me. It’s like he’s sayin we’re quits. Givin me six shillins means he did me no wrong, but I didn’t give it back. Instead, I made me way te the ladder an went down backwards, holdin on tight, afraid I would fall, cos I was so weak. An I felt me legs like jelly. I got te the last step, an the men came down after me.
Me ma was standin at the end of the ladder, an her face was shakin, an her mouth was twitchin. ‘Wha happened?’ she looked at me an then at them. Nobody said anythin. An I headed fer the door, desperate te get out. ‘Wha did youse do te her?’ me ma asked, lookin at them an followin me.
They laughed, an the older man said, ‘Ah! She’s all right,’ an he opened the door, an I rushed out wit me head down, feelin at the mercy of everythin an everyone. He slammed the door shut behind us, an me ma said nothin. When I handed her the six shillins, sayin, ‘The man gave me that, Ma! You take it,’ she gave me a queer look, like I’d done somethin terrible wrong. An somehow I felt very old an like I wasn’t like ordinary childre. An men weren’t like the daddy I wanted them te be. Ye have te be a child te have a daddy. An I wasn’t a child, even though I still felt like one. But I’d have te give tha up an watch meself. Ye can’t take chances wit people. Most men will hurt ya, an there’s nothin at all me ma can do fer me. So women are not much good either.
I hurried away, walkin close te the wall, wantin te touch it. Afraid of everythin – people, noise. I stopped te retch, tryin te get sick, but only the tea came up quickly, then I couldn’t bring anythin else up. But I was still heavin me stomach. Then I stopped an leaned against the wall, lookin at the ground. ‘Wha’s wrong wit ye?’ me ma asked, leanin down te look in me face.
I lifted me eyes, sayin nothin, an tried te wipe away the dribbles hangin outa me mouth. ‘I gorra shock, Ma,’ I mumbled.
‘Jaysus! Ye’re the colour of a corpse!’ me ma said, shakin. ‘Them bastards!’ an she looked back te where we’d come from.
I walked on, wantin te be somewhere else. I didn’t want te talk te me ma. There was nothin she could do. Maybe if she’d lost her head, they might have murdered the two of us – I sensed tha. Maybe we’re lucky te be alive! God! Why did I not see it comin! I didn’t even think they were interested in me ma. I usually keep wide awake te men. Ye can usually see it comin a mile away. Men are always interested in goin after me ma. I see them lookin at her. An even the ones who go after childre, they’re easy te spot, the way they mooch up te ya. An ye can get away from them. But not this time! Lord God, I fell inta their trap. There’s nothin but Jacksers everywhere. God, why can’t I just die? But I don’t want tha, an I don’t want te live either. I just feel afraid of me life.
‘Come on!’ me ma said, clampin her mouth tight an lookin away from me. ‘Let’s get movin.’
We walked slowly together, not sayin anythin. ‘Where are we goin, Ma?’ I asked after a while.
‘I don’t know,’ she muttered, not lookin at me.
She doesn’t want te be wit me either, I thought. She’s actin as if I’ve done somethin wrong on her. I looked at her, an she turned her face away. I don’t care about you either, Ma, I thought. Ye can be as fed up as ye want, I’m not bothered about anythin. Wha’s the point in tryin te be happy? It doesn’t last. One minute I’m feelin very happy, an the next it’s gone. The only thing tha lasts is misery. People are no good. Ye never know when they’re goin te strike an do ye real harm if ye let them get the chance. The heart was gone outa me. An I just wanted te go te bed an sleep. I was still feelin sick an shivery.
‘Ma, let’s go back te the room!’
‘Wha?’ me ma said, lookin at me sideways.
I didn’t like tha look she was givin me. ‘I’m tired. I want te go an rest meself.’
She said nothin, just tightened her mouth more an looked away, not wantin te see me.
‘I’m goin back,’ I said. ‘I’ll find me own way.’ Not carin wha she said. An I turned aroun ready te find the way we came.
‘Wait!’ she said. ‘Ye can’t go back now or tha aul one will be askin awkward questions. Come on, we’ll go te the pictures.’ She was lookin at me now, but when I tried te look inta her face, she looked away. Not able te look at me. ‘Come on, we’ll go in here.’ An she went up the street an inta a picture house. I followed her in, an we walked inta a very plush place wit all red soft seats. The usherette took the tickets an showed us up the back, shinin her torch te find the way. An the advertisements was on, showin a woman wit long hair ridin a horse on a beach. The music was lovely. An we sat down. Somehow the music made me feel very lonely, an tears rolled down me cheeks. Where’s God? He’s supposed te care fer me, but I know he’s not bothered. Why can’t I be happy fer long? Why doesn’t it last? If only I’d never been born, then I wouldn’t have te worry about livin or dyin. But now I’m stuck. Me mind had wandered, an the fillum was started, The Three Faces of Eve, an the actress was Joanne Woodward. I sat starin, not takin it in.
35
I woke up sensin there was somethin different. Me eyes looked aroun the room. It was quiet! Me ma! Where’s me ma? I shot up in the bed. She’s gone! Me heart started poundin, an I jumped outa the bed. I wanted te scream, ‘Help! Me ma’s gone! She’s left me!’ But I held it back, an I was makin keenin noises outa me chest. No! No! Maybe she’s just gone out te the tilet. I opened the door an listened. Nothin, not a sound, it was too quiet. I wanted te go out an look, but I’m afraid someone will see me. I don’t want te talk te anyone. I shut the door, easy, an crept back over te the bed. Why would she l
eave me? An where’s she gone? If she was comin back, she’d a woke me an told me te wait. Maybe she got fed up wit me not wantin te say much. An I wasn’t bothered about gettin us anythin or even comin up wit ways te get us some money. I didn’t listen when she kept complainin te herself about what are we goin te do, an the money is nearly runnin out.
In another two days, the landlady will be after us fer the rent. An I don’t know wha we’re goin te do then! Maybe tha’s why she’s gone an left me. Cos I’m only draggin outa her now. I’m no help any more. Yeah! Tha’s wha’s happened. She’s decided she’s better off on her own. I heard noises out the winda, an I looked out, hopin it was me ma. No! Only two women stoppin te talk te each other an laughin. One was holdin a shoppin basket wit vegebales an fruit stickin out. Me heart dropped, an I leaned me head against the winda, feelin like a babby, keenin an moanin, ‘Ma! Mammy! Where are ye, Ma? I want ye. Don’t leave me, Ma!’ I was moanin quietly, knowin nobody could hear me, cos I didn’t want anyone te see me actin foolish. But it helped me, an rockin meself backward an forward stopped me from losin me head an goin mad wit the fear. I kept rockin meself fer an awful long time. An me moanin an keenin has stopped. An I’m just rockin gently an listenin te me breathin an watchin the daylight goin. An the street lamps are comin on, an it’s beginnin te drizzle. People are hurryin an puttin up umbrellas an tryin te hold them te stop them blowin away. An it’s gettin very windy, an suddenly it’s gettin darker. An I look aroun at the door, an no one is goin te come in, an I’m safe in here. The landlady won’t knock, cos she won’t bother until Saturday, when she’s due the rent again. So I’m OK.
I sat meself in the middle of the bed, restin me chin on me knees, an held onta me legs tight. Rockin meself an hummin, ‘I see the moon! The moon sees me!’ I keep hummin an hummin. I liked tha song. I used te sing it when I was very young an I was happy, just me an me ma, an me aunt Nelly an me cousin Barney. Me heart is jerkin at the thought of them times. I want them back, I want te be happy again. But noooo ... they’re gone. I’m singin te meself, an now the tears are pourin down me cheeks. An I want someone te hear me. Maybe God is listenin! Or someone who won’t laugh at me an think I’m foolish. Maybe there’s a ghost in the room. I look aroun seein the walls an the little brown wardrobe. An lookin at the chair wit me frock an me cardigan sittin on it, an me shoes wit the big holes in them. One is sittin on its side, an I stare at the big hole, then I look at the dark corners of the room. I’m not afraid if there’s a ghost. Cos it might even be like Casper, the friendly ghost in the comic books. He won’t laugh at me or call me names or try an hurt me. He’ll like me, an we can play together. He’d talk te me an tell me all sorts a things. An he’d treat me like I’m not any different from other people. An when I’d cry, he’d know it’s cos I’m very sad cos nobody’s really bothered about me. Yeah! That’d be nice.
It’s very dark now, an I listen. No, there’s nobody here. No Casper, no ghost, an God’s not listenin, or he wouldn’t leave me on me own. I rubbed me arms, an they’re like ice. It’s only just hittin me now, I’m freezin wit the cold. I move up an cover meself wit the sheet an blankets. An curl meself inta a ball. Ah! Tha’s better. I’ll have a good sleep fer meself, an I know what I’ll do. Tomorrow I’ll go out an look fer me mammy. I’ll keep on walkin the streets until I find her. An I won’t talk te anybody, cos tha’s too dangerous. Yeah! Tha’s what I’ll do. An I felt meself liftin. I know wha te do.
I was fast asleep when the light suddenly went on an me ma appeared outa nowhere. I lifted me head tryin te see, but the light was blindin me. ‘Is tha you, Ma?’ I was shieldin me eyes, an they were stingin me.
‘Yeah! I’m back!’ she said, smilin. Me heart leapt wit excitement. An then I had the fear I might be just dreamin.
‘Am I awake, Ma?’ I asked her, lookin inta her face te make sure she was real.
‘Wha’s wrong wit ya?’ she asked, laughin. ‘Were ye fast asleep?’
I looked at her puttin down a loaf a bread an a little box a cheese. An a bottle a milk an a bar a chocolate. An a big packet a newspapers filled wit fish an chips. She put them all on the bed. ‘Tha bread an cheese will do us in the mornin,’ she said, takin off her coat. I watched her in wonder. She looked very happy, an I couldn’t believe all this was happenin te me. ‘Come on!’ she said. ‘Eat these while they’re still hot.’ An she opened the newspaper an handed me a big piece a fish.
The smell nearly kilt me. I took a big bite, an it was gone down me neck in only a few chews. An I polished the rest off an dipped me hand in the newspaper again an took out a handful of chips. ‘Here!’ me ma said, handin me the bottle a milk. ‘Take a sip a this. Oh! I’m enjoyin this, them chips is lovely,’ she said, puttin a handful in her mouth.
‘Where were ye, Ma? I was worried!’
‘Wha?’ she said.
‘Why did ye go off on yer own without tellin me?’
‘Ah! I had te hurry, an you were sleepin. An I knew I’d be quicker on me own!’
‘But where did ya go te?’
‘Ah! Don’t be talkin,’ me ma said, laughin. ‘Where didn’t I get te, would be more the question. Look!’ she said. ‘We’ve plenty a money.’ An she counted out eleven pounds!
‘Where did ye get all a tha money?’ I whispered, not believin me eyes.
‘Well! First, I went down te the Welfare Office an got money offa them fer the rent. Tha aul one gave me a letter statin we’re livin here. An money fer our keep. Then I went te see someone I used te know, an I got a few pounds from them. An I went inta a café in one a them big shops. An they were offerin work in the kitchen. So I started tha straight away.’ Then she started laughin an nearly choked on a chip. ‘Jaysus!’ she said, wipin her nose an eyes wit the sleeve of her cardigan. ‘They put me in the scullery wit a mile long a pots an pans, an gave me a big rubber apron, down te me ankles, an a huge pair a rubber boots, an told me te get crackin. I thought the money was grand until I saw what I was lettin meself in fer! I was swimmin in water. “Ah, no!” I said, after I dragged meself up on me feet after then scrubbin huge floors. “This won’t suit me at all. Ye can give me the wages I’ve earned, I’m not comin back.”’
I couldn’t believe me ma took a job! I didn’t think she had tha in her. I looked at her in wonder. She seemed different somehow, younger! ‘How old are ye, Ma?’
‘Who, me?’ me ma asked. ‘Eh! I’m twenty-seven.’
‘Tha’s young, Ma! Not very old at all,’ I said, thinkin me ma could look lovely if she did herself up. ‘Ma! We’ll be able te pay the rent!’
‘Wha? No! We’re not stayin here. Tomorrow, we’ll go te Shepherd’s Bush te the markets. An we’ll go te Petticoat Lane. We need te get ourselves a few clothes. I’ll be glad te see the back a these rags we’re wearin. Then on Saturday, we’ll head off te Birmingham. Come on. I’m gettin inta bed before the legs drop offa me.’ An she tidied away the food an put the papers under the bed. An put out the light an pulled off her frock an climbed in beside me. I snuggled up te her back, feelin I was on top of the world an God is lookin after us, an I was happy knowin He’s still there.
We got off the bus at Shepherd’s Bush markets. An me ma was in a hurry. ‘Come on, Martha!’ she said, laughin, an her head was flyin from one side te the other tryin te decide wha te look at first. ‘Ah! We need te get ourselves a bag,’ she said, rushin off.
‘Wait, Ma, I don’t want te get lost!’
‘Come on,’ she said, hurryin. ‘We’ve nothin te carry the stuff in.’ She flew past stalls, an then her eyes lit on a pile a suitcases an shoppin bags an handbags. Me ma picked up a big suitcase an winked at me. The market was crowded, but there was only another woman beside us browsin at the handbags. An the owner was sittin on a big high stool drinkin a mug a tea an suckin on a cigarette. He was watchin his stuff like a hawk.
‘Come on, Ma,’ I said, pullin her sleeve.
‘Ah, wait,’ she said, smilin. ‘Gimme time.’ Then she picked up a big leather shoppin bag. ‘Ho
w much is this? Eh, Mister?’ An she gave a little cough an a laugh.
Yer man held the cigarette in the corner of his mouth, closin one eye against the smoke pourin in an sized me ma up wit the other. ‘Ten bob! An that’s cheap. You’ll pay fifteen bob in the High Street.’ He saw me ma’s face drop. ‘But I’ll tell yer wot I’ll do! I’ll let yer have it fer eight bob. An I’m robbin meself. But I likes the look a you!’
‘Come on, Ma!’ I roared, an I moved off.
‘Ah, tha’s very dear!’ me ma said te me back as I walked off.
I walked up a bit an waited fer her te catch up. ‘Did ye not like tha, Martha? Tha bag would suit us grand,’ she said, chewin her lip.
‘No, Ma! We can’t afford te pay tha kind a money on just a bag. An tha fella is a robber.’
‘Yeah! Pity, though,’ me ma said, lookin woebegone. ‘But we need te see if we can get somethin te carry stuff in first.’
‘Yeah! Wait until there’s a crowd aroun him, then we’ll whip it,’ I said.
We moved on, stoppin at a stall wit mounds a clothes. ‘Look at this!’ me ma said, liftin up a brown coat tha was doin the rounds when Queen Victoria was livin. ‘Go on! Try it on,’ me ma said. ‘It’ll keep ye nice an warm. There’s nothin wrong wit it.’
I put the coat on, an it had a mangy fur collar. It felt damp, an the linin was torn, an there was a hole in one of the pockets. It was faded an old lookin, like it had definitely seen better days. ‘Tha’s grand on ye,’ me ma said, standin back te look.
‘Yeah, OK, Ma, it will do,’ I said, lookin up te see if there was anyone watchin. I kept the coat on an moved away. I had no intention of even givin the time a day fer the coat never mind partin wit money.