Run, Lily, Run

by Martha Long

  ‘Now, here we are,’ he said, lettin go a me hand an openin a brown paper bag. Me eyes lit up an I whipped the socks offa me hands watchin him open it, an I could get the smell a hot cakes straight away.

  ‘Here, have one a these, an go easy on them roads, stay away from them,’ he said, puttin a big jam doughnut in me hand an pattin me on the head. ‘Now be good! he whispered, bendin down inta me face smilin, then he went off givin me a wave.

  I stared after him then down at the cake, I could feel it soft an the sugar stickin te me fingers, an I lifted it te me nose gettin the smell of the jam. ‘Oh Mammy, it’s gorgeous!’ I mumbled, takin a big bite. Wha a pity he’s not me granda! Whoever has him is very lucky! I thought, lookin back down at me cake. Then suddenly it was whipped from me hand.

  ‘GOT YE! Give us a bite!’ said the big young one I just told te ‘Fuck off’ wit the scabby chin an mouth. ‘Followed you here te box ye!’ She crowed makin it a sing-song all delighted, an now lookin down admirin me cake gone te sit in her hand. ‘Then I watched te see you might get yerself kilt tryin te get cross tha road, an more’s the pity ye didn’t! But sure never mind, this is even better! Thanks very much,’ she laughed, then turned an rushed back across the road an disappeared around the corner.

  I couldn’t believe me eyes, I stared after her wit the bite I got hangin outa me mouth not even tasted yet, never mind chewed. ‘Hnnn,’ I moaned, givin a little keen, not able te do nothin else wit me gone inta shock. Me heart was breakin fer the want of it back, I chewed now, keened an stared over at the corner where me cake disappeared, not knowin wha te do next. I looked fer the granda te see if I could catch up wit him an tell him wha tha young one did te me, but I couldn’t see him, he was gone. I wanted te scream, cry me rage an jump up an down doin a war dance, or scream murder fer someone te kill her an get it back. But I couldn’t do nothin. Then it hit me, I should a watched behind me when I called her names. Then I could a run fer me life when I sawed her comin! Ceily is right, I am pure stupid!

  I looked around me wonderin where I should go, then saw the young fellas hoppin around playin on the train station steps an watchin me. As soon as they saw me lookin they opened their mouth an laughed, pointin at me then roarin, ‘Ahhaha! Serves ye right, eegit! Dozy Dozy Donah, lost her donah, dirty-lookin gobshite got no cake!’ They sang it, makin it into a tormentin song.

  I stood starin then shouted, ‘Fuck off, smellies. Ye’re eegits yerselves!’

  I could feel a huge heave a big cryin comin up me chest, but I held me breath an turned away, makin te rush back across the road, not wantin te let them see me cryin.

  I stopped beside two aul ones waitin te cross an they looked at each other, sayin, ‘Lovely fresh crisp day fer January, isn’t it, missus?’

  ‘Oh indeed it is, an wit tha bit a sun comin in through the windas, it should a warmed up lovely the house fer when I get home.’

  ‘Ah yeah, I’m the same, it’s nice te have tha te look forward to. Still, we’re out in it now, an at our age you need te wrap yerself up well!’ she said, fixin the black shawl on her head pullin it tight around her.

  ‘Oh ye’re right there,’ the other aul one said, doin the same an wrappin herself tight inside her shawl, leavin only a bit of her face te catch cold. ‘Oh yes,’ she repeated, lookin like she was mutterin to herself wit her mind miles away. ‘Oh yeah, ye’re right there, indeed you are. At our age you have te take all the bit a comfort you can get, no matter where it comes from.’

  Then the traffic eased an we all left the footpath together wit me followin beside them. Fer these few minutes I didn’t feel on me own any more, an I didn’t even feel cold an lonely.

  We walked up all along the street wit shops at every door. Me mammy comes here te do her shoppin on a Saturday, I think it’s Talbot Street. Yeah, I know it is, I remember where we are now. But she never let me come this far on me own before. An tha road back there is very treacherous! If Mammy knew I tried te cross tha on me own she would kill me!

  The two women walked together now chattin like they were old friends, but they only met. You can tell by the way they first talked, lookin, but not catchin the eye. You do tha in case someone doesn’t want te talk to ye, then you can pretend te be talkin only te yerself an the fresh air! I know all this because Mammy would say it when someone wouldn’t answer when she talked, ‘Look a tha! Ignorant aul cow nose in the air thinks she’s too good fer people, wouldn’t talk te you, just as well I was makin company wit the fresh air an not dependin on her fer the time a day.’

  ‘I’m headin in here te the Clothin Mill,’ one woman said, slowin down.

  The other one stopped an stared in, lookin like she was thinkin. ‘Do ye know I think I will go in an have a look meself, there’s a few things I need te get.’

  ‘Come on then, let’s see wha they’re offerin,’ said the first woman wit her face covered. Then she lifted the shawl off her face an lowered it down wrappin it around her shoulders. I could see now she had snow-white thin hair showin her scalp all bald, an it was pulled tight an tied in a brown hairnet at the back.

  The two a them went in an I followed, it felt now like I too was a part of them. They just met each other an I just met them, so we’re all pals, even though they don’t know about me.

  ‘Where’s the tea towels?’ said the hairnet woman. ‘Must be in further,’ she answered heself. ‘Let’s keep movin. I want te see wha they have.’

  ‘Oh look, missus! Aren’t they just beautiful now?’

  ‘Wha?’ said Hairnet, seein the woman pointin up at the white-wool blankets hangin down from the wall.

  ‘Foxford!’ said Hairnet, lettin it come out in a moan. ‘Oh wouldn’t I just love a pair a them now on me bed? Oh but the price a them, God bless us! You would need a lifetime a savin te afford even one a them! An look a tha, beside it, the gold eiderdown wit the satin cover. The weight of it! Oh you could get tha te go wit the Foxford blankets.’ Then she suddenly bent down an whispered inta the other woman’s ear, I moved closer fer a listen. ‘Then you’d never need a man te keep ye warm!’

  There was quiet fer a minute then suddenly they threw up their heads together an roared laughin.

  ‘Oh be God ye’re right there, who needs them when ye have all the comfort wit tha lovely bed stuff.’

  Then we wandered on.

  I stopped te look at the wires an pulleys flyin across the ceilin wit the little box attached. It pinged an banged when it hit the woman waitin at the counter, an she grabbed hold an opened it. Then she took out the receipt an the change in money an handed it to the customer waitin wit her brown-paper parcels all tied up wit twine. I watched another shop assistant take a big green pound note from a customer an put it in the little box, wit a ticket. Then she pulled a knob an the box flew off singin an buzzin through the air makin its way across the ceilin, then up it went to a glass an wooden box where a woman sat waitin fer it. It flew in through the open winda straight to her waitin hand, an she grabbed hold an opened it.

  Oh I would love te do her job, I thought, starin up at her sittin behind the dark-wood desk. She was wearin a uniform, it was a lovely black frock wit a white-lace collar. She looks very important so she does, up there wit her grey wavy hair tied back in a bun an the glasses sittin on her nose. I watched as she took out the docket an the money an wrote somethin in a big book, then put her hand in a big polished box, fixed in the money an took out the change. Then wrote somethin on a form, wrapped the change in it, put it in the box an flew the lot back te the shop assistant.

  I turned then te watch an see wha she does. She was wearin a shop coat, it was a navy-blue smock, an right beside next te her she had huge rolls a brown paper wit big balls a twine waitin te be cut, tha was done by tuggin it at the brass edge of the counter. She had big long measurin tapes fer measurin stuff, an I even saw a woman gettin her waist measured.

  I rushed up te get a look at tha, an the woman had her coat off an she was wearin a navy-wool jumper wit a heart over the chest.
She looked young like she just got married an she was lovely lookin altogether. Her mammy was standin beside her wearin a fur coat an holdin loads a parcels from other shops. ‘Oh yes, dear. I think we should. The Clothing Mill is best for that you know, dear,’ she said, smilin at the shop assistant who looked like she was on her best manners because this was very important an respectable customers.

  ‘Yes, Madam, I do agree,’ she said, bowin her head an givin a smile without openin her mouth.

  I gave a big sigh forgettin all about me troubles. Oh this is great, I thought, enjoyin meself no end watchin all the goins on. Then I looked te see me two old women, but they were gone! Me heart dropped wit the sudden fright. ‘Where’s the grannies got to?’ I muttered, feelin meself startin te panic wit me head shootin around the shop not able te see them.

  Then I heard them, but I couldn’t see them in the crowd. I tried lookin down at feet, but I don’t know wha theirs look like. I think they had black boots wit narrow heels, but then there’s loads a black boots all sittin on feet wit different size legs an shapes, frocks, coats an lengths. Some are short, an some are coverin the ankles wit only the boot or shoe te be seen. Mammy said we have nearly gone out of the Dark Ages an now we might start te get a bit more modern, like wha the people write home about when they go te England, because we have nothin here, Mammy says. She calls Ireland the hothouse fer breedin workers an cattle te be shipped te England. They even go te America when they save up enough fer the passage after workin in England. Mammy says we would be all dead an planted, if it wasn’t fer the few shillings sent home te the fambilies from all them workers. Yeah, I know all these things, because I love earwiggin when the big people are talkin. But ye get a box in the ear when they catch you! Mammy says I’ll grow up wit cauliflower ears if I don’t stop me earwiggin.

  I came back te me senses an stood starin, wonderin wha I was supposed te be doin. Oh yeah, the grannies!

  Me eyes flew takin in the people. Ah! There they are, the pair a them are near the front a the shop, they were makin their way out away from the counter an lookin like they were headin fer the door.

  I pushed me way out fast catchin up, then stood, seein them havin a last word before goin in separate directions. I began te feel lost again watchin them part. One woman went right an crossed the road headin in the station direction, then turned left, goin back the way I came. The other one started te fix herself, she pulled the shawl back over her head coverin it, an only leavin out a bit of her face te be exposed.

  Wha will I do? I felt meself wantin te cry, open me mouth an cry me heart out. I could feel the cold hittin me now, me stomach was empty an I felt tired, very tired, cold an hungry. But I don’t know anyone te go an see. I have nowhere te go an no Mammy te mind me! I started te cry feelin meself heat up wit the hot tears splashin down me face, an I couldn’t see wha was happenin, because the tears was blindin me.

  The other granny was gone, but I could still see the one wit her head covered, she was far ahead in the distance headed up Talbot Street. I’m goin wit her! The thought suddenly hit me makin me feel better.

  I rushed off then started flyin me arms makin me go faster, me feet was hurtin me on the hard stone ground an I wanted te stop an put me socks back on, but they wouldn’t let me walk in them, they’re huge big men socks an I’m still a bit too little. Not tha little, because I’m seven now, but still a little! I thought te meself catchin up now, because I could see the granny nearly in front a me.

  Just as I got up next te her I slowed down then to a walk an kept a little behind her. She can’t know I’m trailin her, because I don’t really belong te her an she’s goin te get very annoyed, because she will think I’m watchin her business. I’m not, I just want te be wit someone an pretend they’re mindin me.

  We walked on an stopped at the lights waitin te cross Gardiner Street, I know this place too, because this is the way Mammy goes when she wants te get her shoppin. But we don’t always come this way.

  I stood waitin, hoppin me feet te keep out the cold, I never went in me bare feet before an I don’t like havin te do it now. It kills you wit the painin cold an gets you all sore, from walkin on the cobblestones. Then it’s havin te watch out fer broken glass or walkin on pebbles an hittin yer big toe against broken bricks. No I definitely don’t like it, even though lots a childre run in their bare feet, but they don’t care, because they’re used te it! Then suddenly I heard me mammy’s voice say, Lily Carney, you’re used te better, now get yer shoes on ye.

  I looked around just te make sure, but no, she was not around me or beside me; it was only my hearin her voice in me head.

  14

  THE LIGHTS CHANGED an we moved on, I kept very close behind her not wantin te lose her again. I don’t know why, but the granny makes me feel like I know her, yet I know I never sawed her before. Very peculiar tha!

  We stayed walkin on up towards the top a Talbot Street without stoppin. Now we did stop again, because we’re now at the lights on O’Connell Street waitin te cross over te Nelson’s Pillar. I know all these places, this is exactly where me an Mammy an Ceily go te do our shoppin on the Saturday.

  We all watched the lights, they went green, then we were on the move again, marchin across the road an on te Nelson’s Pillar.

  ‘Ah it’s yerself, Mona! How’re ye keepin?’ an old woman said, she was wearin a plaid shawl an a grey woolly hat wit a big pin pushed through it, tha was te keep it fastened onta her head. An I stood admirin her lovely mother o’ pearl brooch, she had tha sittin on the shawl, pinnin it together. She looked very fancy compared te the granny.

  ‘Ah Lizzie Dungan, well if it isn’t yerself! An here we are an the dead appeared an arose to many!’ the granny roared, laughin an gettin all delighted.

  ‘Sure look, you wouldn’t know me! I’ve been across the water an back! The big young one, Mary-Josephine, brought me over. She lost the husband, he died sudden, but he had a good job on the railway over there, an now she has the widow’s pension, an not just tha! But she got a big insurance payout on the death policy, now she’s in clover!’

  ‘Go ’way! Amn’t I just delighted for you, Lizzie!’

  ‘Oh indeed yes! Now there’s money plenty, she can send me the fare, she said she would! An I can go over again at Easter!’

  ‘Oh isn’t God good? You landed on yer feet wit tha bit a good fortune! An wha about childre? Has she many?’

  ‘Oh indeed she has! But look, they’re all done for, up reared an married all five a them!’

  ‘God, Lizzie, but don’t the years do fly! Wha age would she be now? Mary-Josephine wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah we called her after the two sisters a mine who died young. You remember?’

  ‘Oh indeed I do, Lizzie, beauties the two a them, died a consumption they did, God be good te them an rest them. So, where were we?’

  ‘Mary Josephine, she’s fifty-two!’ said Lizzie, rememberin.

  ‘Ah will ye go on outa tha! Are we tha old?’

  ‘Oh indeed we are, Mona, the years flew! Do you remember when we sat together tha first day in school? Gardiner Street, down the lane it was! An we wha? Only four year old! How long ago is tha may I ask?’

  ‘Well come this March I will be seventy-six year old, Lizzie! Oh the years flew, we’ve had our time, now every day’s a gift from heaven, Lizzie!’ the granny said, soundin very sad, shakin her head an starin inta the face of Lizzie.

  Lizzie clamped her mouth an smiled but looked very sad too, starin back at Mona. Now I know wha the granny is called.

  They stayed quiet fer a minute then Lizzie said, ‘I heard you lost poor Toby.’

  ‘Ah God love him, he’s gone now,’ keened Mona, soundin like she was cryin. ‘Ah I miss him somethin terrible, he was great company! Even poor Sheila is gone, the cat! Nineteen year I had her, an fifteen year I had Toby. God bless us but by the time he went he was stone deaf, half blind an his poor hips was riddled wit arthritis! Ah but he was me constant companion. People used te say, you see m
e ye see him! Now I’m lost, Lizzie, I keep wantin te turn around an see if he’s behind me. I can’t get used te not havin him around. It’s very quiet, too quiet without him.’

  ‘Ah well. That’s life,’ said Lizzie. Then said, as she put her hand on Mona, ‘You mind yerself, darlin, an we’ll say a prayer fer each other. God has been good te us! There’s better than me come an gone, it’s been a hard aul life, some be times terrible! But here we are still around, pullin the devil be the tail, but we’re still alive te tell the story.’

  ‘Mind yerself, Lizzie, an God bless you! Bye now, I better hurry on an get me few messages, it looks like tha weather is goin te change fer the worse,’ Mona said, now lookin up at the sky wit the sun gone, leavin nothin but black clouds, cold an the wind comin up.

  I shivered sittin on me spot on Nelson’s steps. I looked up seein him standin up there wit the missin arm an his one eye lookin down the length of O’Connell Street, he was keepin tha one eye peeled on the river, our River Liffey. Mammy used te say he was watchin out, just in case foreign ships came in wantin to invade the city! Just like the Vikings did. Mammy said they built Dublin, over in the old part, the Liberties where Christ Church Cathedral is.

  I leapt up, after forgettin meself, when I sawed her rushin across the lights an now headin up Henry Street. I flew after her te catch up an stayed just behind, not wantin te lose her in the crowds. She turned down inta Moore Street an I followed feelin all happy. I looked from left te right at the dealers on every side a the street sellin their flowers, an another had vegebales, then another aul one was roarin, ‘Four pence the dozen apples! Do ye want some, missus? Just offa the banana boat they is, collected them meself! Knew you were comin an lookit! Don’t go, missus, wait!’ she shouted, grabbin hold a my granny not lettin her move.

  ‘I don’t want any apples, sure lookit! I have no teeth te eat them, missus,’ the granny said, openin the mouth te show her gums.