Spit Against the Wind

by Anna Smith

  ‘Howyedoin’?’ he said, smiling broadly. Then he saw that nobody was really smiling back at him. He looked at Ann Marie and there was a flash of recognition in his face. She wouldn’t be the first lonely, frightened, tear-stained girl he had taken on this journey in similar circumstances.

  ‘Right, folks,’ he said, lifting the case and opening the luggage compartment. ‘I’ll get this little lot put away and then I’ll make sure you get right to the ferry. No problem.’ He was like the family doctor who moves in to smooth everything over when there is confusion and fear. He went back on to the bus and sat in his seat. The old man in the flat cap sat up and stared out of the window, suddenly interested in the little drama that was unfolding in front of him. We all shifted around. I thought I was going to die. Dad was first to make the move.

  ‘OK.’ He seemed to take a deep breath, then moved towards Ann Marie and took her in his arms. He squeezed her and she buried her face in his shoulder. They held together for what seemed like ages. ‘You’re still my girl,’ he whispered, wiping her tears away. ‘No matter what, you’re my lass. Everything will be fine, Ann Marie. You’ll see.’

  She looked at him through tears. Mum threw her arms around Ann Marie and sobbed. Tears rolled down my face. Dad came and put his arm around me. ‘C’mon now,’ he whispered. ‘It’s not the end of the world.’ I wiped my tears.

  Mum and Ann Marie held on to each other for ages and the driver looked away as if he felt he was intruding. The old man stared sadly as if he had seen it all before. Finally they let each other go. Ann Marie came forward and hugged me as tight as she had done in the bedroom. I sobbed into her chest. She spoke through her sobs but her voice was cracking. ‘Now you take care of our bedroom and make sure it’s not like a bombsite by the time I get back. Understand? Or you know what you’ll get.’ She was trying her best to act tough but her lip was trembling.

  ‘W … will you write to me?’ I managed to croak.

  ‘Course,’ she said. ‘An’ you keep me up to date with all the news … Promise?’

  I nodded. ‘Hurry back,’ I said, as she turned away from me. ‘I’ll watch for you.’ She turned and smiled at me. Dad was holding Mum in his arms, trying to stop her from sobbing. Then Ann Marie was on the bus and at the window waving to us. The driver revved the engine and gave us the thumbs-up. The old man just stared. Ann Marie waved, but now her face was all crumpled as she broke her heart. And mine.

  Chapter Thirteen

  We were cooking bacon and sausages on the fire at our camp in the woods and we inhaled the aroma, our mouths watering in anticipation. We were starving from swimming the length and breadth of the dam we had built that had become our Olympic pool as well as the crocodile-infested jungle pond into which Tarzan would swing from surrounding trees. It just depended on whoever we were at any given time. It was great to be out here, just the four of us laughing and carrying on as if there was nothing else in the world but this. I hardly thought about Ann Marie when I was at the camp, even though Shaggy Island wasn’t that far away as a constant reminder. She had written me a couple of letters saying how she had settled in and was working in a guest house down the road from Auntie Nora’s. She said she was enjoying great walks on the beach and the gusts of wind were giving her an appetite for all the food Auntie Nora was stuffing her with. I thought about her every night before I went to sleep, willing my thoughts to cross the water and make her feel as if I was right there with her. But out here, I was a million miles away from all of that.

  Tony had been stealing money on a regular basis from the Nazi’s box and he had worked out a clever plan of stuffing strips of newspaper in the middle of each wad so that the bundles all looked the same and the Nazi could see at a glance how much money he had. We all prayed that he wouldn’t take the elastic bands off one day and decide to count the money properly. If he did, Tony was a goner. We laughed our socks off at the picture of him, his big dark eyes bulging when he saw how he had been robbed. Jamie was the best at doing impersonations of him shouting and rushing around the room. We told ourselves it wasn’t stealing because he was a Nazi and we knew what the likes of him had done in the war. Barney Hagen told me and I saw it on Colditz. Stealing from them was too good for them, we had decided. We sat back and enjoyed the fruits of Tony’s exploits – sausages and bacon and lumps of bread, washed down with bottles of lemonade and chocolate bars for afters. This was the life.

  ‘If only we didn’t have to go home,’ Tony said, watching the flames flicker on the fire.

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ Jamie said. ‘I wish we could just live our lives like this, out in the wild. Like the way they did in the wild west, digging for gold and stuff. It would be great.’ Jamie tossed twigs into the fire, one by one, watching the flames devour them.

  His house was getting worse. Jake McCabe had had them all out in the street again just a few days earlier, and this time Mary was in such a state the doctor had to be called to put stitches in a cut on her head and give her something to calm her down. She was running up and down the garden with the blood pouring from her head, screaming and bawling, with Jamie running after her, trying to get her inside. We could hear Jake smashing the house up. It had been hours before everything was quiet and finally the lights went out. Everybody in the street must have heard it because the walls were so thin, sometimes you could hear your next-door neighbour going up the stairs. But nobody helped Mary.

  The doctor was going to get the police, but she told him it wasn’t Jake who hit her but that she fell and cut her head on the table. Nobody believed her though.

  ‘As soon as I’m big enough, I’m going to waste his face,’ Jamie said, his eyes narrowing as he pictured the scene of him giving his dad the hiding of his life.

  ‘Would you like to run away, Kath?’ Dan said, hoping I would say no. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving his mum and his brother and sister, especially after his dad had died. But we had all noticed the change in him since the visit to the Bishop’s house. He had stood up for himself that day in front of everyone, even the Bishop, who was trying to scare him off. Dan was a lot tougher now, and though he was still an altar boy, he said that Father Flynn had suddenly stopped trying anything with him. But Dan knew he could never run away from home.

  ‘I wouldn’t like to run away,’ I said. ‘Not like the way Tony and Jamie are talking. I mean, my mum and dad would die, and Kevin would probably find us anyway and he would go crazy. But I would like to go to Ireland and see Ann Marie.’ They all looked at me. I wasn’t sure if they knew the truth behind her going to Donegal. But I could never tell them.

  We watched in silence as the fire began to sink and the daylight faded from the sky. Somewhere deep in the woods, the spooky call of an owl signalled the approach of darkness and we all looked at each other, knowing it was time to go. Suddenly, as the shadows crept in around us, the thought of sleeping in the woods didn’t seem so attractive, and we hurried our steps out of the trees and into the open fields where we could see the houses of the villages at a comforting distance.

  By the time we got to Tony’s gate there was just the two of us, as usual. Dan had jumped the fence to his house, eager to get home to his mum. Jamie hung around as long as he could with us because he didn’t want to go back in, but eventually he went, his hands thrust deep into his jeans pockets and his head down.

  We both stopped a few yards away when we saw the blue van at Tony’s gate. I couldn’t understand what big Slippy Tits McCartney’s van was doing there at this time of night. Surely he couldn’t be collecting money. Tony looked embarrassed. I was confused. Then I saw and understood. In the darkness I could just make out the shadows of the two figures kissing in the front seat before the woman sidled out of the van and closed the door. McCartney drove off, swiftly, not even giving us a second look. Tony’s mum turned, startled when she saw Tony, then gave him a big wide smile.

  ‘Tony? Is this you just getting home?’ She looked furtive. She ran her fingers across her lips, as though w
iping them would mean that she hadn’t just spent the last hour with McCartney, doing whatever they did in the back of his van or at his house. The rumours were true. No wonder Tony went crazy when Billy Cowan slagged him off at the pictures. Tony didn’t answer her. He just looked at her sadly. She tried to pretend she didn’t notice. ‘Good thing I met McCartney. He gave me a lift back from your auntie Jenny’s. I couldn’t have faced the walk.’ She only made it worse by building up a story that we all knew wasn’t true. Tony didn’t even answer her, but watched as she went up the path, a little unsteady on her feet. We said nothing for a while. Then Tony spoke.

  ‘She’s with him all the time, Kath. I just don’t know what’s going to happen if the Nazi finds out.’ There was a kind of panic in Tony’s voice.

  ‘Maybe they’re in love,’ I said, then could have kicked myself at the absurdity of it. What difference did it make if they were in love? The Nazi would still go berserk. But I had seen a film like that once where the woman got the man she loved and everything worked out well in the end.

  Tony looked at me as if I was daft and said, ‘Jesus, Kath. Even if they are in love, she’s married to that bastard in there and he’s a crazy Nazi. He’ll kill her. Anyway, McCartney’s just as big an asshole.’

  ‘I know,’ I said, remembering the scene I had witnessed when I walked in on him with my mum.

  ‘See you tomorrow,’ Tony said, turning and walking away.

  ‘See you,’ I said, watching as he turned the handle on his front door.

  Chapter Fourteen

  We were all helping move tables around the village hall in preparation for the big send-off party for Kevin and Dessie O’Hanlon before they went to Australia. There had been an air of excitement and trepidation around the village for the last few days. Kevin and Dessie were two of the most popular guys in the place. The girls all loved them and hung around them in the pubs, and even after mass there was always some girl making an excuse to talk to Kevin as he walked home with us. He used to laugh and wink to me whenever a girl would come up and join us on the walk home from church with some spurious reason to be with him. I would laugh and take his hand, just to make sure she knew that I was the only girl he really cared about.

  Whenever I thought about those days it made me really sad. I couldn’t bear to think of life without Kevin, and I had been trying to put it out of my mind for the last few weeks, but now the time was coming close when I would have to say goodbye.

  Kevin seemed to be on a great high all the time. He was joking with Mum when she was getting all his clothes washed and ironed ready for the trip. She loved it when he kidded her on and crept up behind her and threw his arms around her neck. She would laugh and give him a slap, but afterwards, when she was ironing, I would see her wiping her tears away. Dad seemed to be worse than ever. He was drunk more often and hardly even spoke to Kevin, no matter how much Kevin would try to draw him out. Kevin used to ask him to go for a drink with him, but almost every night Dad would say a flat no and Kevin would lift his jacket and go by himself. The atmosphere between the two of them dragged the whole house down. I had heard Dad say to Mum one night when he was drunk that he could never forgive Kevin for turning his back on his family. Mum tried to reason with him, but there was no telling him. I was only hoping that by the time we had the party everything would be different.

  It was going to be a great night. Most of the village was going, well most of the Catholics. There were a few Protestants who Kevin used to work with, but mostly they didn’t really mix with the rest of us. The band was going to be made up of two young pals of Kevin’s who played guitar and another who played the organ. Kevin said they knew all the hits and there was going to be some great dancing. Two old men were going to be brought in to play the accordion so that the mums and dads could get in some dancing as well, and there would be a sing-song.

  Everyone had made food for the buffet and there was a ten-shilling cover charge and all the money raised between that and the raffle would go towards sending Kevin and Dessie to Australia. It was costing them next to nothing to get there because the Australian government was so desperate to get people over to settle in their country that they were more or less paying families to emigrate. Loads of people from all over the country were going with promises of great jobs and new houses.

  Father Flynn was going to be at the party as well and would make a speech wishing the boys well. Kevin had told Mum that he didn’t want him there, but she brushed him off and told him there was no question of having a celebration without the parish priest to start it off.

  When the day finally came around, Jamie, Tony, Dan and me were exhausted carrying plates of sandwiches and food from the houses to the hall throughout the day. It was blazing hot and on the way home from our final trip we bought ice creams and sat in a field, glad of the rest.

  ‘Guess who’s coming to the party?’ Tony said, staring into the distance.

  ‘Not Bishop O’Toole?’ Jamie said, smiling.

  ‘No, worse than that,’ Tony said. ‘That Nazi bastard. Can you believe it? He never takes his arse out of the door, and he’s coming to the party with Mom. He’ll just waste it for everybody.’

  ‘No he won’t,’ Jamie said. “Cos my da’s coming with my ma and if anybody’s going to waste things it will be him. Christ, I wish he would die!’

  ‘Jesus!’ Dan said. ‘How can you say that?’

  ‘I don’t mean to annoy you, Dan, but your da was great. Mine’s just a waster. My ma’s not even going to enjoy herself, and she hasn’t been out for ages.’

  I could see the night ahead of us and had a feeling it was going to be eventful.

  ‘It’ll be all right,’ I said, trying to cheer them up. ‘Kevin and his mates will make sure everything’s fine. You’ll see.’ I didn’t really believe it, though.

  We sat in silence for a while, each with their thoughts inside their own homes.

  ‘Did you hear about Barney Hagen?’ Dan said.

  ‘What?’ I said, suddenly concerned there had been more stories.

  ‘The cops were at his house this morning. I heard my mum say to her pal that he had been interfering with weans and that they might even charge him,’ Dan said, pleased that he knew something we didn’t.

  ‘Old bastard. He’s probably just like Flynn,’ Jamie said. ‘Hey, Kath, is he not your pal? Do you not go his messages?’

  My face went red and I spluttered. ‘Yeah! He’s not like Flynn! Nothing like him. He’s just an old man. He’s not doing anything to anybody. I don’t believe that story. Jesus, Barney was a hero in the war,’ I said.

  ‘What if it’s true?’ Dan said. ‘You’d better watch yourself, Kath.’

  I stood up and everyone followed. ‘C’mon, let’s go. It will soon be time to get ready for the party.’ We all walked home and nobody mentioned Barney Hagen again.

  I didn’t tell them that I had been to Barney’s house the day before, despite being told not to go back there. I had knocked at the door but Barney didn’t answer. I sat on the step for a minute, then shouted through the letterbox, but still he didn’t answer. I knew he was inside because he didn’t ever go anywhere, and I could smell the tobacco. I knew he knew I was out there but wouldn’t come to the door. I felt guilty for not visiting him sooner, because now he would be thinking that I was one of the kids who was starting the bad rumours, and he would feel I had betrayed him. I would go back and see him tomorrow, and this time I would make sure he let me in.

  *

  Dad had stayed out of the pub all day after much coaxing by Mum and promised to be on his best behaviour. Whatever agreement they had come to must have been a good one, because he was even half talking to Kevin, who had just stepped out of the bath and was buzzing around the house with a towel wrapped around his waist. Kevin looked beautiful. His body was bronzed and hard with muscles from working on the building site. He was a full head bigger than Dad and his eyes and face shone as he looked in the mirror, combing his hair and admiring hims
elf.

  ‘You really want a mirror that kisses back, don’t you?’ Dad grunted from behind his newspaper. It was his way of communicating and Kevin enjoyed it.

  ‘You have to admit it, though, Da,’ he joked. ‘The women in this village are really going to take it bad when I go.’ He smiled and posed in the mirror, enjoying the banter.

  ‘Oh aye.’ Dad kept it up. ‘God’s gift itself. The poor women will have to put up with the likes of Slippy Tits McCartney if they want a real man now.’

  ‘He’s not a real man. He’s a spiv. It’s a real man the women love,’ Kevin said.

  ‘Oh I don’t know,’ Dad said. ‘He seems to be doing quite nicely. I hear he’s dipping his wick down the road at the Polack’s house,’ he muttered, grinning.

  Kevin looked over his shoulder as I left the room and he must have thought I hadn’t heard.

  ‘No wonder, Da. I mean, that woman’s no’ a bad bit of stuff,’ he confided. ‘But she’s tied to that fat-arsed man. Christ! No wonder she drinks!’ The two were talking like old friends, and Mum was delighted as she put down mugs of tea on the mantelpiece.

  ‘You shouldn’t talk about her like that,’ she said. ‘She’s had a real hard time.’

  ‘Aye! I’ll bet she’s having a hard time. So is McCartney,’ Dad chuckled.

  ‘You have the mind of a sewer,’ Mum scolded.

  ‘I’m only saying what the whole village has been saying for months,’ Dad said. ‘It should be good fun at the party tonight, because Slippy Tits is coming, and him without a woman on his arm. It could be the kind of a night you have to lock up your wives.’