The Blue Horse

by Marita Conlon-McKenna

  ‘I’ll put my bed opposite you lot,’ grunted Tom, throwing a navy sleeping bag on the floor to mark out his spot straight away.

  Hannah grabbed Katie and drew her into the small bedroom. It was tiny.

  ‘We’ll need bunks, Katie, but isn’t it lovely?’

  The walls were bare but at some stage had been painted pink, someone – probably the last girl to sleep in the room – had covered the door with stickers and transfers. The small square window looked out at the back of the house, straight at the house behind, at walls and windows, more walls and more windows. There wasn’t even a bit of a curtain. Katie spied a girl standing in a kitchen, then a man cutting bread, making sandwiches. Everybody could see everybody else. Through the gaps between the houses, in the far distance beneath the line of evening cloud she could see the gentle curving green, smudged with the darker green of trees. It was the mountains – the Dublin Mountains. She thought of Da; he always liked the mountains. If you stared really hard you could almost imagine you could touch them.

  ‘Ma, come up to the wee room. I can see the mountains.’

  ‘Later, pet.’

  ‘Bye, everyone!’ It was Miss O’Gorman leaving. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow morning again.’ The front door closed and Katie heard the sound of the engine starting. Uncle Mike and Mam came in and walked around the house.

  He admired every bit of the place.

  ‘Honest to God, woman, if Brigid sees this I won’t get a bit of peace.’

  ‘Oh Mike … I …’

  ‘I’m only joking, girl, you’ve done right well for yourself getting this place. I’ll tell Ned all about it, but, well, you know how he is, it’ll take him time to come round.’

  Uncle Mike hugged them all. He gave them a fifty-pence piece each and told them it was for sweets in the local shop and to get something small for Davey too. They stood at the door and waved goodbye as he drove off back down the road. The protesters had gone at last and they ignored the stares of the neighbours and went back inside and closed the door.

  Mam was so excited despite being tired. She had found an old bag with a bit of coal out in the back garden and also a half block of turf briquettes. Tom brought them in.

  ‘I know it’s still summer but the night is getting cool,’ Mam said. ‘Will I light the fire?’ It seemed to take ages but eventually it began to catch.

  There were no curtains on any of the windows. Tom and Katie went into the kitchen. There was an old cooker there, which needed a huge amount of cleaning, and one small cupboard attached to the wall. They took out a full sliced pan and made plateful after plateful of toast. Katie scraped each slice with butter quickly so it would melt straight away. They boiled water in a saucepan and made mugs of tea. Then they all sat crosslegged around the fire sipping the tea, full of milk and sugar, trying to relax. Katie’s only regret was that Da wasn’t there amongst them all. Mam chatted and told them about the tiny wagon she had grown up in. What would Grandma Whelan say if she saw this fine big house!

  Paddy and Brian were yawning like mad, their cheeks flushed with sleep.

  ‘Come on, I think it’s time for bed, everyone,’ Mam declared.

  The light switch in the boys’ room didn’t work, so they clambered in the dark into the bunks despite having no mattresses, and pulled a blanket around themselves. Tom zipped up his sleeping bag. Uncle Mike had given him a radio when he left the site and Tom turned it on really low. Mam left them the torch.

  Hannah and Katie had two pillows, a light blanket to lie on and a multicoloured nylon sleeping bag which they used as a quilt.

  Katie could hear the twins giggling and then she heard Tom turning off his radio. It was a funny thing, but houses seemed to be full of strange noises – water running through a pipe overhead, creaking sounds from the roof, and every time someone moved on the floorboards she could hear it.

  Mam was moving around downstairs. She seemed very far away. Even Tom and the twins were a long way off. She rolled to one side. Hannah was out for the count and her mouth hung open. She murmured the odd time in her sleep and gradually Katie could feel herself slipping … there was something strange, something missing … what was it? Then it came to her – it was standing still and it looked almost wooden. It raised its long neck and tossed its mane, which caught the breeze. It stared at her, then it began to run, to gallop. They were near the slope of a mountain – it cantered and whinnied and drew itself up on its back legs. It shook its head back and forth and its huge eyes never left her face. It wanted all her attention. The blue horse was calling to her. It was so big. She walked towards it, making soft little sounds, ready to pat it, to stroke it, to calm it down.

  Its large hooves pushed backwards – it swished its blue tail and snorted; this was no ordinary horse. It could see into her very soul. The horse was lost, it was scared, it was angry. The nearer she got the more her sense of danger was alerted. The horse might kick her! It reared up.

  She was reaching out to touch it, to pat it, when a roll of hooves took it off away from her. It was going further and further away … the blue horse was going … with a jolt she sat up. She felt empty, disorientated. The room was so strange.

  ‘Mam! Mam!’

  She sat up. Honest to God, she was as bad as the twins or Hannah, waking up with a nightmare.

  She rubbed her eyes. She felt an overwhelming desire to be with her mother, to reassure herself that Mam was in the house. Slipping from under the sleeping bag she went down the wooden stairs trying not to make too much noise.

  Mam was sitting in front of the fireplace staring at the dying flames. Near her, Davey’s head rested on a cushion and he was snugly wrapped in two rugs. Mam didn’t seem to hear her. She tiptoed up and whispered. ‘Mam! Mam, I had a bad dream.’

  ‘It’s all right, pet, sit down here beside me and pull this blanket over you. It’s just that everything is so strange. There have been a lot of changes in a few short days. You’re worried about it, that’s all.’

  Katie nodded.

  Mam put her arms around Katie.

  ‘I’m worried too. I hope we’ve done the right thing. I’m worried about your Da – there’s a lot that I –’

  They were interrupted by the arrival of one sleepy twin after the other. They had their sleeping bags and blankets and without any fuss settled themselves in front of the fireplace.

  ‘Can’t sleep in that room,’ Paddy declared, his eyes closing again almost immediately. Katie waited to see if Mam would send them back upstairs, but she just seemed to accept that they needed to be with her. About fifteen minutes later Hannah appeared, almost falling down the strange stairs with the sleeping bag wrapped cocoon-like around her. She was upset and crying.

  ‘I thought you’d all gone off and left me, I called your names. Why didn’t you come?’

  ‘Hannah, come over here to me – go easy or you’ll wake Davey up.’

  Katie was moved further away. Hannah pushed her head against Mam and curled into her, her tears and upset fading away. A stab of jealousy stung Katie; the younger you were the more love you got.

  There was a sense of reassurance with them all gathered in the small living-room. Tom’s snores rumbled away upstairs, but the rest of them took comfort from each other and finally relaxed. Things felt more normal now. Maybe they’d be able to sleep within four walls and under a black tiled roof after all.

  Chapter 12

  DOOR-TO-DOOR

  With every day that passed Katie began to feel that number 167 was home – well, maybe!

  Miss O’Gorman took Mam over to a big storage depot. Beds and blankets, a small fridge that made a funny sound when you opened the door, a green and grey checked couch and wobbly armchair were among the things delivered the next morning. Everything was second-hand, someone else didn’t want them, but they did the Connors family just fine. The house didn’t seem as empty as it had the first night. There was a discount shop down in the town and Mam went there to get plates and cups and bowls and a silver-
coloured kettle and a teapot.

  They still had no curtains. The morning sun streamed in so early every day that they were first up in the neighbourhood. It was funny watching out the window as other people came downstairs in dressing gowns and ate breakfast and got ready for their day.

  Next door a woman called Mrs Dunne lived with her son and daughter. Her eldest girl was married and brought two grandchildren to see her every weekend. Mrs Dunne’s husband had died of a heart attack two years ago.

  Katie noticed that at first Mrs Dunne would avoid being outside if any of them were around. She seemed embarrassed to talk to them – even to say hello!

  It was Duffy constantly pushing her nose through the back fence that got Mrs Dunne talking. She liked dogs and used to drop scraps of food over the fence to Duffy – bits of meat and left-over chicken. Maybe she thought they didn’t feed her. Anyway, because of Duffy, she and Mam began to chat. She had lots of good advice to give Mam about training dogs and bringing them up. Mam would nod and listen, and try to hide her knowing smiles.

  On the other side were the Foxes. They were well named, Katie decided, as they were a sly, cunning lot, always coming and going. They barely spoke and made it clear they had objected to having travellers as neighbours. A large rain-soaked piece of white cardboard still lay flung on the grass in their cluttered back garden. ‘Keep Out The Tinkers’ it said. Day by day the message was slowly being washed away.

  Mrs Fox was a real gossip, always watching out the windows to see what they were at. Paddy and Brian would pull faces when they spotted her.

  ‘Leave the poor soul alone,’ scolded Mam. ‘I think she’s lonely, that’s why she’s so interested in other people’s lives.’

  Mam was far too soft.

  Paddy and Brian had taken to Ashfield as easy as pie. The road seemed crammed with young fellows their own age and as soon as they were up in the morning they ran out to join the army of pals that kicked ball and played chasing out in the road.

  But Hannah was different. Katie was sick of telling her to go out, but still she would not venture beyond the front wall. Katie lost her temper with her one day.

  ‘Hannah, would you go out and play! Look at her, Mam.’

  There she was sitting on the front wall, swinging her feet, her eyes wide, humming softly to herself. A crowd of girls about her own age, seven and eight, would set up a game deliberately near her only a house or two up, but never ask her to play. Hannah would watch them intently and Katie knew she was secretly keeping score and longing to join them. If a ball came near her she would jump down and try to grab it, and then stand with it in her hand, hoping they’d ask her to play.

  ‘Give us back our ball,’ was all they’d shout. Hannah would toss it back, but there was still no sign of them asking her to join in.

  ‘Don’t be bothered with them, Hannah,’ urged Katie. ‘Pretend you don’t care, and ignore them.’

  But her little sister wouldn’t. She seemed content to sit on the wall and watch.

  The kids in the estate were a funny lot. Some were fairly friendly, but others stared as if you were from outer space. Sometimes during the day the doorbell would ring and when they went to answer it there was no one there.

  ‘Just kids messing,’ Mam said, but it did worry Katie a bit. Sometimes it happened late at night, around midnight or even later. That was too late to be ‘just kids’.

  Katie and Tom both found notes pushed through the letterbox. Luckily Mam couldn’t read the messages:

  Get out filthy tinkers.

  Knackers go back on the road.

  You are not welcome here.

  Go away or there will be trouble.

  The writing and the paper was always different but the basic message was the same – go away.

  Tom was angry about it and had all kinds of plans to try and catch whoever did it. Katie just hoped it would stop, and they both agreed not to let Mam know about it. She had enough on her plate to deal with.

  * * *

  ‘Will you come door-to-door with me?’ Mam asked a few days after they moved in. They took Hannah, and Davey in the buggy, and went to an estate twenty minutes away on the bus. Mam knocked on the doors.

  ‘Would you have a bit of help, Missus? I’ve just moved in with the family to a new house. Any spare sheets or towels or household goods would be very welcome.’

  Some banged their doors shut, and others chatted and were quite friendly. After two hours there was barely enough space for Davey to sit in the buggy, and both Hannah and Katie held an assortment of plastic bags. Mam held her head high walking back down to the main road. ‘No harm in getting what others don’t want,’ she declared. Later that night she was all excited, sorting out the odds and ends to see what they could use. She draped a huge white sheet over the living-room window and hung curtains on two of the upstairs windows. The begging had certainly been worthwhile.

  ‘Wait till Brigid sees the place. I’m right proud of it,’ beamed Mam.

  ‘When will Da see it?’ asked Hannah before Katie could stop her.

  ‘Soon, pet. Any day now, that’s what I’m hoping.’

  A week later Katie was thrilled to see Maggie and Bridey and her aunt arrive for a visit.

  ‘We left the wild ones back home,’ joked Auntie Brigid.

  Home – it had changed again. They were living in a different field now, practically on the side of the road.

  ‘Not as nice at all,’ whispered Maggie. ‘I wish we had a place like this, we’d be rightly set up then.’

  Hannah was delighted to have Bridey for company and took her out to sit on the wall to show off that she had a friend too.

  Mam was busy trying to get information about Da and his whereabouts.

  ‘You must have seen him, Brigid? Is he all right? Was he asking after us? Do you know where he is?’

  ‘He’s in Cork, Kathleen.’

  ‘You mean to tell me he’s down at the other end of the country!’

  They tried to chat and laugh, and pass it off, but Katie knew that as far as Mam was concerned, all the good was gone from the visit.

  Chapter 13

  SCHOOL

  ‘Summer’s coming to an end,’ announced Mam next morning. ‘We must sort out about school.’ She ordered them all to have a bath, wash their hair and dress in the best clean clothes they had.

  ‘We’ll go down to the schools and see what’s what, so hurry up the lot of you.’

  Tom lay splayed out on his bed and would not budge. ‘I’m not going, Mam. I’m finished with schooling.’ At almost fifteen, he had his mind made up.

  ‘There might be some kind of course or centre for you to go to.’

  ‘Mam, let me be. All last year I worked with Da. I can’t go back to desks and books now. I’m done with it.’

  ‘But what’ll you do then, son? Please, just come with us,’ she pleaded.

  ‘No, you go on. I’ll stay home. I’ve things to think about.’

  He was adamant and would not move.

  The rest of them pulled the hall door closed behind them and set off down the road.

  Saint John’s National School was only about ten minutes’ walk away. It was a low grey building with green-painted iron railings all around. It served most of Ashfield and the other big estates nearby.

  The caretaker opened the door and showed them all into a large waiting area with wooden benches. The boys and Hannah began to play a form of hopscotch on the tiled floor. It was so weird and spooky being in a school during holidays; it felt hollow and any noise echoed around the empty corridors and rooms.

  Mr Searson, the headmaster, came out to meet them and brought Mam into his office. Katie was left to mind the others. It took about twenty minutes for Mam to reappear, then Paddy and Brian and Hannah had to go into the office and the headmaster talked to each of them and gave them a sheet of paper to fill in which took another half-hour. Katie pushed Davey up and down the corridors to pass the time. They all seemed very quiet when they came bac
k and Paddy whispered that it was ‘real hard’. The caretaker made a cup of tea for Mam. She was very nervous. The clock ticked on and on.

  Finally Mr Searson brought them all into his office.’Well, Mrs Connors, they have all done the tests I’ve given them, difficult enough if you have been in and out of schools too often.’

  Mam reddened.

  ‘As I told you our classes are very large here, we cover a wide catchment area, and there are very few places … however, that said, I can only offer one place.’

  Katie looked anxiously at Hannah, whose eyes were wide, full of hope.

  ‘One of the boys – Brian, isn’t it?’ he added.

  Katie gasped. Brian! Only him? How could it be?

  ‘His learning skills are just about right for his age and his marks are very good; some problems with spellings but we do have a remedial teacher here to help with things like that.’ The man was staring at Brian with a smile on his face.

  ‘But what about Paddy? The twins have never been separated.’ Mam looked at Paddy who had slumped in the chair as if an unknown assailant had suddenly pounded him in the guts. ‘What class will Paddy be in, or Hannah?’

  ‘Well that’s it, that’s my problem, Mrs Connors, they won’t be in any class. I’m full up. Paddy, even if I had a place, would be about two classes behind Brian. They would not be together anyway. He needs to work a lot harder to catch up. I don’t know if putting him in a big class and letting him fall behind would be doing him any favours. Hannah, well!’ He turned to Hannah. ‘Do you understand about reading at all, Hannah?’

  The little girl looked scared out of her wits, her blue eyes huge like an animal caught in a trap. Katie felt like hitting the middle-aged greying man in his striped suit for the pain he was causing her.

  ‘Come on, don’t be afraid to say what you feel.’

  ‘I don’t understand it, not any of it. The words all have strange sounds and when they’re all spread out on a page it’s like a big puzzle and I’m meant to make sense of it. Most of the time I can’t make any sense of it. I’m not very good, am I?’ With a wobble in her voice she raised her head and stared straight at the man.