She saw the feathers first, glorious green and black plumage sailing high above the small circle of cheering boys who’d gathered round the back of the wagon. Joe, white-faced was hanging back and shooting him a look that said he should have known better, she pushed past him to see what was going on. As she had suspected, there was Paddy down on one knee cheering Paudy O’Doyle’s angry, prize-fighting cock rooster on. She watched in horror as it lunged and pecked at a bird she recognized as Martin Ward’s pride and joy. Paddy’s arch-rival, Ginger Collins was crouched opposite him clutching a bag of marbles in his grubby hand. As the two lads spied their mammy’s bearing down on them their eyes widened, and they scooted back on the seats of their pants. They both narrowly missed a drenching from the pail of water tossed over the two cocks that seemed to come from out of nowhere. The circle of boys disbanded and scattered quick as a flash, but Paddy wasn’t going anywhere. He couldn’t, not while his mammy had hold of him by the ear.
Rosa took Joe by the hand. “Come on let’s get those birds back in their cages before they start up again. The menfolk will be back any minute, and if they catch wind of this, they’ll skin Paddy and Ginger alive.”
She shook her head shoving the ruffled bird back in its cage and locking it tight, hearing Paddy plead his case as he was dragged back to the wagon. “But Mam we were only borrowing them and Ginger said he’d give me his bag of marbles if Paudy’s cock won.”
“Ah, you should have stopped him, Joe. He’ll be in for it when Da hears of this.” Rosa said as they set about returning the cocks to their rightful homes.
“I couldn’t Rosa, you know what Paddy’s like when he sets his mind to something.”
Rosa sighed, she did indeed know what her brother was like. What made her sad was that when he got his arse kicked by Da as he undoubtedly would, Joe would walk around clutching the seat of his pants afterward too. He felt his brother’s pain as keenly as if it were his own. It was a strange thing, but it was the way it was between the two brothers, and what was done was done. “I don’t understand it grown men standing around watching birds half kill themselves. It’s an ugly, cruel thing.”
“Da says it’s the sport of kings and that once upon a time every village in England had a cockpit, and everyone from royalty to school boys would join on in. It’s been that way for thousands of years.”
Rosa knew deep down that her gentle brother agreed with her. “Well, then it's high time they found a new past time.”
“Don’t let Da hear you say that!”
She wouldn’t. Rosa knew he thought she had far too big a gob on her for a girl by far as it was. Just the other day she had gotten a cuff round the ear when she had asked him why it was auld man Billy kept himself to himself so. She’d see him sitting, day after day on his own, working his worry beads over and over as he repeated a silent rosary. Da had told her that Billy had been at the Somme and had seen things no man should ever see. That was why he sat so trying to talk to our Blessed Lady. It was his way of atoning for things that were not his fault; he’d finished. Rosa had asked him why it was our Blessed Lady was taking so long in getting back to him. “Sure,” she’d said, “wasn’t the war years ago?” Her question had not gone down well.
Chapter 13
Twenty years a child; twenty years running wild; twenty years a mature man – and after that praying – Irish Proverb
1959
Rosa did not look forward to the onset of winter. Still and all she looked forward to the month of October because it brought with it the highlight of her year, the Ballinasloe Horse Fair. The colours of the nine-day annual carnival were to her mind a last ditch hurrah before the grayness of the ensuing months set in. She promised herself that this year, she would try to hoard the vibrancy of it all in a corner of her mind. That way she could pull the images out to cheer her mood when the drab days dragged on too long.
“Go east for a woman,” her da would say as they loaded up their wagon and joined the throng of travellers heading for the town of Ballinasloe in the County of Galway, “and west for a horse.”
The weather had turned it on for the start of the fair that year, and although it was chilly, the sky was a crisp blue. An air of infectious, high-spirited, good humor-filled their camp that morning too. Rosa’s fair hair gleamed with having been freshly washed. For once, seeing as it was for Ballinasloe, she’d allowed her mammy to run the brush through it, and her scalp was still stinging from all those strokes. She’d worn her best dress too although the clean white cotton had taken on a grayish tinge thanks to all its washes. A thick woolen cardigan pulled over the top of it would keep her warm, and her feet were stuffed inside a pair of wellies.
Kitty, overawed by all the noise and people filling the town’s street had a firm grip on her sister’s hand. She too had dressed in all her finery, not caring about the holes in the elbows of her blue jumper. She had been far too enamored of the matching blue bow her mammy had tied in her hair in honor of the occasion to notice such a trifling thing as that.
Rosa sniffed the air. She fancied she could smell the frenzied excitement of the young lads riding bareback as they paraded up and down the narrow street. Their antics signaled the start of the fair, and she felt herself get jostled. “Come on Kitty.” Rosa pulled her little sister along behind her as she pushed through the bystanders toward the field. She could see the clusters of stalls set up and ready to do business in there and wanted to see what was on offer this year. She knew too that there would be the usual tug-o-war, singing competitions, music, dancing and horse racing over the next week.
Her mammy had put her in charge of her little sister, but Rosa didn’t mind, Kitty was no bother. She knew Mam would enjoy her time whiling away the days as she caught up with women she hadn’t seen since last year. They’d talk about things that went right over Rosa’s head, things she suspected that you had to be married to understand. Da was already off talking the talk and walking the walk with the other men folk as he set about inspecting the horses for sale. As for the boys, well no doubt they’d be busy getting under folks feet and cadging pony rides off the bigger lads. When they tired of that, they’d rile the dogs waiting to compete in their race just as they had done last year and the year before that.
Rosa kept Kitty close to her side as they trawled the stalls. The hard-sell banter of the stallholders didn’t intimidate Rosa as she paused to wonder over the latest gadgets and mod cons. All the while knowing that they would be completely useless additions to their way of life. A stack of colourful plastic hoops hanging on the wall of one stall caught her eye. “How do those work then?” She asked the stallholder, a man with a greedy glint in his eyes and whose grin revealed two missing front teeth.
“Those there are hula-hoops imported all the way from America. They’re the latest thing over there, so they are, here have a look,” He produced a photograph showing a smartly dressed, teenaged girl. Her hair was in a swinging ponytail, and she had a big, happy smile plastered on her face as she twirled one of the coloured hoops around her waist. “The idea’s to keep it going, not to let it fall like. Do you want to try it?”
“Yes, ta.” She blinked at the whiteness of the girl’s teeth. She had no money to spend and was wasting his time but still and all her curiosity was piqued. He turned his back to unhook a yellow hoop that he handed over to her. She put it over her head and began to rotate her hips in a way that would have seen her get a cuff round her ear were their mammy to spot her. Kitty watched on fascinated as the hoop fell around her ankles in next to no time. Undeterred she had another go and this time managed to keep it circling for a few moments. On her third attempt, she’d gotten the hang of it, and Kitty laughed, clapping her hands with delight. The stallholder, however, had tired of the game and was holding his hand out expectantly. “If you’re not going to buy the thing I’ll have it back thanks very much.”
Rosa reluctantly handed the hoop back, and she and Kitty carried on their way. They passed by a strutting group of teenage
girls, their arms linked together. “Look at them Kitty, they’re like peacocks, so they are.” She whispered out the corner of her mouth not fancying a clout for her smart mouth. “They all think they’re the Queen of the Fair.” Her attention was diverted from the girls by a sudden shout from over by a cluster of wagons. A scuffle had broken out between two lads who, Rosa decided on closer inspection looked to be about eighteen or so. Both had their shirt sleeves rolled up and their fists clenched tight as they sparred. A beauty of a black and white horse was tethered to the back of one of the wagons, and Rosa wondered if the animal was what had triggered the disagreement.
A fight was not an uncommon sight at Ballinasloe, and she knew one of the older men would be over to sort it out in a moment before it got out of control. In half an hour’s time, the two lads would probably be sharing a pint at the pub. She stared with pursed lips at their clean shaven, angry faces. A beard was a foreign sight amongst the Traveller men. They couldn’t afford to have anything for their opponent to grab hold of should matters ever have to be settled in the way these two lads were going about it.
She recalled Joe having told her once that he thought he might grow a beard when he was older. “Sure it would keep my face nice and warm in the winter and why would I want to look like everyone else?”
He and Paddy weren’t identical twins, so it wasn’t that driving his desire to set himself apart from the rest of the lads, Rosa had thought. The worried look that crossed his sister’s face didn’t escape Joe. “Ah don’t be carrying on Rosa. It won’t matter because I won’t be fighting any of the other boys. Sure why would I want to do that?” Rosa already knew that things didn’t work like that and you couldn’t always pick your battles. It was especially true when your twin brother was Paddy Rourke. Just look at Da too, he was a gentle man for the most part but she had seen him come to blows with Martin Donohue only last winter. Bernie and Martin’s grudge ran deep and it ran long. Its roots were firmly embedded in a job cutting and rolling the turf that Bernie Rourke was adamant Martin had cheated him out of.
As the first fist connected with the side of a young face, Rosa startled and pulled her sister away. She steered her toward a donkey to distract her from the spectacle. Its teeth were bared for inspection by a man looking to purchase it. She wandered closer fascinated and peered at it for a few moments before muttering, “Jaysus would you look at the chompers on that now Kitty.”
There was no reply and Rosa realised her sister was no longer holding her hand, nor was she by her side. She’d only been distracted for a moment so she couldn’t have gone far she reassured herself. As she swiveled her head this way and that to catch a glimpse of blue jumper there was no sign of her. All she could see in whichever direction she looked were horses whinnying and donkeys braying as throngs of people weaved their way around them. Images of her wee sister getting trampled caused her breath to catch. She turned and headed back the way she had come, the air flooding her lungs with fear. Ducking and diving through the crowd, she passed by the man selling the hula hoops and stopped. She had the strongest feeling that she should check around the back of his stall. Following her instinct, she rounded the corner and nearly cried with the relief of it all because there peering through a piece of green cellophane was Kitty.
“Rosa you’re all green.” She chirruped with a look of wonder on her small face.
“Don’t run off on me like that ever again Kitty Rourke. Do you hear me?” She admonished with her hands on hips. Kitty was oblivious to the stern tone. She was far too fascinated by the world that had suddenly turned green thanks to a piece of cellophane. She had no doubt picked it up off the ground Rosa thought, with a smile at her sister’s simple pleasure.
Chapter 14
A word is more enduring than worldly wealth – Irish Proverb
1962
“Mammy its beautiful thank you.” Rosa breathed running her hand over the crisp white cotton of the dress she would wear to Ballinasloe. Her stomach fluttered with excitement at the knowledge that this year things would be different. This year she would be fourteen and setting her sights on Jerry Connors. That was why her mammy had scrimped on the meat in their stew. She had filled their bellies with potatoes, cabbage and bread so Rosa could have this, her first ever new dress. It would, she knew in her heart of hearts give her a chance at catching Jerry’s eye.
“Ah, but you’re beautiful Rosa. You could be Queen of the Fair my girl so you could. Now slip out of it before you get it all dirty like.” The praise slipped from Kathleen’s tongue awkwardly.
Rosa preened under this rare show of approval from her mammy. She would like to be Queen of the Fair, sure what young girl wouldn’t want to be? This year the crown had gone to Bridgette McNally, who in Rosa’s opinion, fancied herself something rotten with all those red ringlets of hers. Perhaps she might ask Da to put her forward next year but this year she just wanted to have fun with her friends. Doing as she was told, she carefully hung the dress in the wardrobe. She hoped it wouldn’t take on the peaty, smoky smell of Da’s jacket as she leaned hard on the door to shut it.
Rosa still couldn’t quite believe the dress was hers. As if to reassure herself it was real and not a figment of her wishful imagination, she opened the wardrobe door once more to gaze at for just a moment or two longer.
She’d spotted it in the window of one of the fancy dress shops in the town as she and Mammy went about their business. She had stopped to stare at the window, transfixed by the dress’s snowy whiteness and pretty pink edging.
“Do you like it Rosa love?” Kathleen asked with a strange twinkle in her eye, the handle of the basket of paper flowers held in the crook of her arm.
“Oh, Mam I love it,” Rosa whispered, her hands subconsciously resting on either side of her waist as she wondered whether its tiny cinched one would fit hers. Gazing at the dress’s boat neck and puffed sleeves, she knew she would feel nothing less than a princess in such a dress.
Rosa smiled at the memory as hearing her mam call out to her; she pushed the wardrobe door shut once more before ducking back outside to begin scraping the potatoes. Oh, she couldn’t wait to get to Ballinasloe! It was her turn to be one of the peacocks parading about the place and as she set about the mundane task of prepping the spuds her mind wandered to thoughts of Jerry Connors.
Her mammy and da had made no secret of the fact that they had set their sights set firmly on Willie and Nell Connors’s boy for her. Rosa hadn’t paid attention when she had heard them talking about their plans for her future. She’d no interest in boys, Paddy’s shenanigans were enough to put her off the opposite sex. This year, though something had changed. She felt different inside, and her body had changed. Her mammy had told her when her courses started that she was a woman now, and Rosa did indeed feel like she had left the girl she’d been behind as she looked down at her budding breasts.
As for Jerry Connors, well she knew she could do a lot worse. He was handsome with his wild red hair and flashing blue eyes, and he was an up and comer in the world of horses. It was the world Rosa knew Da hankered after being a part of. If his daughter were to marry into the Connors, then this would be his foot in the door. Indeed, Jerry’s prowess with the horses was becoming a thing to be talked about with him having come in first in the coveted Horse and Buggy race at Ballinasloe last year. Rosa knew her da planned on talking to Willie Connors about a match between their children over the course of this year’s fair.
Joe upon hearing of the purchase of the dress had muttered to his sister in his usual wise beyond his year’s manner. “Da might not trade in the horses, but he’s trading his daughter.”
Rosa had just shrugged. She was too wrapped up in the joy of owning something brand new to care. Besides, her friends were pea green with envy over the prospective matchmaking, and she was enjoying the slightly superior feeling it wrought. Joe was too sensitive by far in her opinion. It worried her because she knew it wouldn’t stand him in good stead for a life that would be tough. Such
was the lot of the Lucht Síuil.
The big day finally rolled around and once Rosa had prised a disgruntled Kitty from her waist, she linked arms with her friends, Eileen and Mary Wall. She was glad the two sisters had gotten over their pique at seeing her dressed in her finery. She didn’t want anything to spoil this day, especially not her friends being in a sulk. Poor wee Kitty she thought, looking back over her shoulder to see her mammy with a firm hand resting on her youngest child’s shoulder. She was her big sister’s shadow there was no doubt about that but today Rosa didn’t want her trailing along behind her. For once much to Kitty’s chagrin, their mammy was in agreement.
The day was clear but cool and full of the promise or exciting things to come her way. She pulled Eileen and Mary closer to her because she had no intention of ruining the look of her dress by pulling an auld jumper on over the top of it. Her mammy had fashioned her hair into a ponytail and trimmed her a blunt fringe. It was in the fashion of the girls she’d seen in the town. Today wearing her beautiful, new dress she knew could give any of those haughty madams who liked to look down their noses at the likes of her, a run for their money! She decided she liked the feeling of her swinging ponytail and the way the dress swished about her calves. It made her feel jaunty and grown up as she picked her way over the field’s pocked ground with the Wall sisters either side of her.
It was the day when the serious bidding for the horses would begin and the races would be held. The sights, sounds and smells of the fair assailed the three girls as they reached its hub, each of them on the cusp of womanhood. They were all too aware of the looks they were garnering from the groups of loitering lads and the more they put their noses in the air and ignored their cat calls, the more attention they gleaned. Rosa’s surreptitious inspection of the talent on offer confirmed what she already suspected. She could do a lot worse than Jerry Connors.
The Traveller's Daughter Page 14