by Martha Long
‘Oh my God,’ she said, nearly droppin the iron wit the fright I gave her.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean te worry ye!’
‘Where did you come out of?’ she said, still holdin her chest. Then a little tiny nun wearin a long rubber apron trailin the ground, an rubber Russian boots under her habit – she had tha tied up aroun her waist te stop it gettin inta the water runnin aroun her feet – appeared outa another room wit the sound a machines clampin behind her.
I stared. ‘Gawd! She’s tiny!’ I whispered te the woman, not takin me eyes offa the nun. ‘She’s just like tha nun in tha Fellini fillum I sneaked inta.’
‘Is that right now?’ said the woman, carryin on wit her ironin an smilin an throwin her eye te me.
‘Yeah!’ I whispered. ‘The Italian relations had te call out the midget nun from the madhouse te get the mad uncle outa the tree. He kept pissin his trousers, an climbed up te the top a the tree an wouldn’t come down, an kept screamin an cryin. He kept roarin, “I wanta womm man! I wanta womm man!” An his mammy was standin lookin up at him, wringin her hands an cryin an shoutin at the daddy an everyone else, all the other relations, “Do some ting! Oooh! My poorre bam bino! Ped dro! You av to do some ting!” An he kept screamin and cryin, “Get me a womm man,”’ I said, holdin me hand over me chest, an lookin up at the imaginary tree. ‘Gawd! Tha was a gas fillum!’ I shook me head rememberin, while the woman laughed her head off, an I had te blink, forgettin where I was, hearin the winchy tiny little nun screamin her heart out laughin at me.
Then the nun was sayin, takin her hankie outa her pocket an dryin her eyes an red nose, ‘Are you looking for me? Are you the new girl in Sister Eleanor’s group?’
‘Yeah, Sister, I am.’
‘Oh, you are very welcome. Goodness! You really are a hard case. I have not laughed like that since goodness knows how long. Now,’ she said, lookin at me, ‘are you settling in well?’
‘Yeah, I’m grand, Sister.’
‘Oh good! Now you better run along, and I think you are supposed to be in your group doing your study, isn’t that true?’ ‘Yeah, I am. But I had te go out lookin fer the tilet. Now I’m lost!’
‘Well, if you go back the way you came, you won’t be lost. Isn’t that right?’ she said, smilin at me, knowin I was coddin her.
‘Yeah, right, Sister,’ I said, moochin away from her an turnin aroun te shut the door.
‘Oh! What is your name?’
‘Martha, Sister, me name is Martha.’
‘That is a lovely name. You are called after Saint Martha, the worker. I hope you are a good worker?’
I nodded me head at her starin at me waitin fer me answer.
‘Good! Because we will have plenty of work for you on Mondays after school. That is the big wash day, and we need all the hands down here. Oh, and don’t forget to bring down your vest and knickers. You change them after your bath on Saturdays.’
‘Yes, Sister,’ I said, tryin te make me escape.
‘Bye now,’ she said, wavin me out the door.
‘Bye, Sister,’ I said, shuttin it fast behind me. I’m not very pushed about the idea a goin back in there. It looks like very hard work te me!
I carried on wit me ramble, passin me own refectory, an stopped on a long concrete passage. A big door seemed te go te the outside onta the grounds. I tried the handle. Locked! Pity . . . I’d a lovin te get outside. I turned aroun, headin down the passage. Loads a doors here, I thought te meself, but I’ll keep goin, cos I could hear noise comin from a door near the end, an made fer tha.
‘Did yeh nat finish washin me pots yet?’ a huge culchie aul nun built like a bus, an a squashed face lookin like it was made outa hardened putty, was roarin inta the face of a young one wit cross eyes an short wiry-lookin roarin red hair tha stood up lookin like it had a mind of its own, wearin a long brown rubber apron an brown suede boots tha grannies wore on their day’s outin when they were wearin their good stuff.
‘I’m goinh as fast as I can, Sister Mercy! I habe a terrible cold in be head, an I’m not bery well at all,’ whined the young one, snots streamin down her nose, an restin her elbows on the sink an lookin up at the nun, who gave her a dig, roarin, ‘Look at all me pots, they’re starting to grow mould from the want of a wash. Get a move on with yerself outa dat, yeh lazy good for nothing!’
She turned aroun just as I put me head back out the door. ‘Come back here, you!’
I hesimitated, wonderin if I should run.
‘Come in here and give me a hand. I’m expected to do everything by myself. Now! Watch them eggs biling in that pot. I won’t be a minute, I’m just running over to the convent, I won’t be long.’
I stood starin at the eggs hoppin aroun in the boilin water, wonderin wha I was supposed te do wit them. Then she came flyin back in, headin over te the eggs.
‘Ahh! You stupid amadan!’ she roared, givin me a smack on the back a me head. ‘The eggs are like bullets!’ she screamed, grabbin the pot wit a cloth an landin them in the sink. ‘You were supposed to take them out!’
I stared at them, not knowin tha, then she gave me another clout an shoved the pot inta me hand. ‘Here! Take dat into dat one an tell her to get a hurry on, I haven’t got till next Christmas to wait on the likes of her!’
I rushed inta the scullery, droppin the pot inta the sink, hearin yer woman moan, an rushed back out again, headin fer the door.
‘Here! Get back here, you, and give me a hand here.’ She bent down te the oven, takin out a load a little cakes. I stared as she humped the big heavy metal tray onta the long kitchen table, the steam makin its way over te me nose, an the smell turned me belly te water. Oooh I’d a lovin te taste one a them.
‘Here! Put that bowl in the press over dere,’ an she aimed her head at a long press comin from the ceilin te the floor just behind the door. I grabbed the bowl in a hurry te get out, an opened the press. Me eyes landed on trays a cakes: rock buns, fairy cakes, scones an little jam tarts, all sittin on the middle shelf. I stared, then felt them! They’re still hot! Oh, an the smell!
I threw one eye, givin a look back at the nun. She’s bendin down te the oven again; now is me chance. I grabbed two in each hand an shot out the door makin fer the tilets at the other end a the convent.
I flew, me heart poundin, carryin the two cakes in each hand.
I can’t hide them; I’ve nowhere te put them. I shot past the study hearin them arguin an bangin aroun, me eyes glued on the end a the passage. Nearly there, I puffed, outa breath. Then roundin the corner an went flyin in the door, slammin it shut behind me an sittin down on the tilet seat te enjoy me cakes.
I took a bite. Oh my God, this is gorgeous! I never tasted anythin as lovely as this in me life. Hmm! I took another bite, shovin the rest of it in me mouth, lookin at the three I still had left. I started on the rock bun, tastin the softness in the inside an all crunchy on the outside. This is marvellous. I’m havin the time of me life. An I’m all be meself not havin te share them, an no one te bother me. Wha more could a body want? I bet them eejits would be ragin altogether if they could see me now.
Then I heard noises. I stopped chewin, an held me breath, me mouth stuffed, an me heart started te pound, strainin me ears te listen.
‘Have you seen her?’
‘No! Where do you think she might have got to?’
‘Smartha Long! Khum out! I know you’re hiding somewhere!’
Jaysus! Ah, help! Mammy, I’m caught. I looked down at me last cake an swallowed down wha was in me mouth, an took huge bites, wantin te finish it before they took it offa me.
The door whipped in. ‘Smartha Long?’ An I saw someone bend down an I leapt up on the seat so they couldn’t see me feet. ‘Khum out! Cheese in here, Miss!’ I heard the kitchen young one roarin through her nose te the grey-haired Miss.
I held me breath, not movin. Then a head appeared over the top of the tilet. I looked up at her grippin the top of the wall. Ah, Mammy! I was shiverin wit the fright.
‘Khum out of nhere, you! Open knat door now!’ screamed the young one from the kitchen. Then she tumbled down off the wall. ‘Oh, me knee. I’ll kill knat new one when I get me hands on her. Khum out of nhere quick! Sister said I’m to bring you straight back down to the kitchen,’ she screamed.
Me heart was leppin wit the fright.
‘Khum out here this sminute!’
‘Martha Long! Please open this door,’ shouted the aul one. I opened the door an flew past just as the aul one tried te grab me, blinkin an twitchin her mouth tryin te talk.
I flew meself down the passage headin fer the stairs, takin them two at a time, leppin onta the landin an flyin inta the tilet an lockin the door, tryin te steady me breathin so they wouldn’t hear me. I heard shoutin an feet rushin down the passage, headin off in the wrong direction. Oh, God! Let me get outa this trouble an I promise I’ll never do anythin like this again. I promise! Me heart was pumpin away like I’m goin te drop dead from the bangin. Jaysus! I can’t keep meself outa trouble in this place. Them cakes wasn’t worth all the bother. I didn’t even get te enjoy them.
I kept listenin, an it was very quiet. Maybe they’ll forget about me. Oh holy God, are ye listenin te me? Make them forget all about me robbin the cakes an I promise I’ll never get meself inta trouble again!
I sat fer a long time, then I heard doors openin an runnin feet an the noise of the childre finishin the study. I crept out, lookin all aroun me. Right! I’ll head back downstairs an pretend te be busy puttin away me schoolbag, an wait te see which way the wind blows. But I can’t understand how I’m always managin te get meself inta trouble when I’m always tryin te be good!
I was sittin down waitin fer me tea when I heard me name gettin roared. The kitchen nun came flyin in all red-faced, an even her eyes was red.
‘How dare you help yerself to my cakes?’ she screamed, slappin me on the head an anywhere else she could get me wit a dishcloth. I kept me head down, an she turned te Sister Eleanor, who was rushin herself over te see wha all the bother was about.
‘What is it, Sister?’ breathed Sister Eleanor, tryin te get her breath wit the shock, an lookin at me wit her mouth open, not makin sense of anythin.
‘Dis one!’ screamed Sister Mercy, givin me another slap a the cloth. ‘Rifled me kitchen press and made off with half of me fresh batch of cakes I made for the convent tea!’
‘Oh, merciful!’ moaned Sister Eleanor, bendin down te get a look at me, not believin her ears. ‘Tsk, tsk, that’s a very bold thing to do. She’s a very bold child, Sister Mary Mercy. I’ll see she gets punished.’
‘Hm! Well, see you do, Sister.’ Then she ran at me again. ‘If I ever catch you within an ass’s roar of my kitchen ever again, I’ll skin you alive! Did you hear dat?’ she roared, thumpin me an slappin me wit the dishcloth te get the message.
‘Right, Sister, I’ll never set foot near yer kitchen again,’ I muttered. ‘I’m sorry about yer cakes.’
‘Half the press, Sister Eleanor! Half the press!’ She shook her head, not believin it. ‘Now there’s not enough left for the poor nuns’ tea!’
‘Yes, Sister, I’m very, very sorry about this,’ my nun said, tryin te placate her.
Then Sister Mercy wandered out the door, mutterin te herself the place was goin te rack an ruin. ‘Law an order is breaking down completely. Where will it all lead to?’ she muttered, shakin her head an still standin in the door.
‘All right, Sister! I will see to this lassie,’ Sister Eleanor shouted te her, tryin te get rid of her. Then she ran at me. ‘I want a word with you, miss! Don’t go disappearing after the tea.’
‘No, Sister,’ I mumbled.
Then the eggs arrived, an one was put in front of me. A lovely brown one. I was just about te give it a bang a the spoon when it was whipped from under me nose an disappeared.
‘You’re not having this!’ Sister Eleanor puffed, vanishin over te the big girls’ table an givin it te one of the big ones.
I watched a big young one grab it, sayin, ‘Oh, thanks, Sister,’ an cross her eyes, makin a face over at me, an lift it inta the air, wavin it back at me.
‘Hungry fucker! I hope ye choke on it,’ I muttered, turnin me head back te see wha was left te eat.
‘You are being punished!’ Sister Eleanor said, appearin up behind me again an wavin her finger at me.
I looked back at me plate, in case she’d robbed me bread. I still had me two slices a bread an grabbed one, takin a big bite, lettin it slide down me neck, tryin te get rid a them in case she took them, too.
CHAPTER 5
I flew outa the dressin-room hangin onta me wash things after gettin inta a big fight wit tha Dilly Nugent one. They wouldn’t let me near the sink, an I had te push an roar me way te get a wash an get meself ready fer school.
‘Martha!’
I looked up te see Sister Eleanor wavin an rushin herself down te get me. Ah, fuck! Wha did I do now?
‘Listen, pet,’ she said, breathin all over me an smilin an grabbin me hand. ‘Come and get dressed quickly and put these on you. Miss is waiting to take you out, and we have a taxi coming in ten minutes to collect the both of you.’
Me mind flew an me heart started leppin wit excitement. ‘Where? Where am I goin te, Sister? Am I goin back te me ma?’ Me heart started te sink wit the fear now tha thought just hit me.
‘Oh no! I declare to God! Where would you be getting that idea from?’ she laughed.
Oh, thank God fer tha. I let out a big breath, feelin meself goin easier. ‘But where then?’
‘We don’t have time for questions. Now hurry! Be a good girl and get yourself ready quickly. Come on!’ an she rushed over te me bed, droppin the new stuff fer me te wear.
‘Put these on you,’ she said, eyein me own frock tha was gettin dirty. Then she whipped it over me head, leavin me standin in me knickers an vest. I hope tha Dilly lot are not goin te start laughin at me again.
I whipped the frock over me head an looked down at meself as Sister Eleanor buttoned up the back an tied the belt. ‘Now put these socks on.’ I put on the new long white socks an dived inta me shoes. ‘Are they polished?’ she asked, lookin down te see me brown leather shoes I robbed fer meself along wit me coat an frock. ‘Tsk, they’ll have to do,’ she said, not likin the look a them. I think they’re gorgeous. They have two straps across me foot, an now I really look lovely, I thought, admirin meself, lookin down at the long brown wool frock wit the big white collar.
‘Now brush your hair,’ she said, grabbin me comb then rushin me inta me coat, after puttin a pair a gloves on me an a lovely red an white knitted hat on me head. It has a long string comin outa the top wit a woolly ball at the end, makin it fly in all directions.
‘Now come along and we better be quick. The taxi will be waiting.’
I swung me head flyin along wit the Sister holdin me hand an made the string fly from side te side, lettin me think I had a ponytail.
‘Here we are, Miss!’ Sister said, handin me over te Miss, the little grey-haired woman waitin at the convent passage an blinkin like mad when she saw us.
‘Now, Sister, we will go directly there, and will the taxi wait for us?’
‘No, Miss, the office will call for the taxi when you are ready to leave,’ she said, leanin over te Miss an breathin at her in a whisper.
‘Oh, good, that’s all settled, so,’ she laughed, an coughed an blinked. ‘So I will wait for her and come directly back.’
‘Yes, Miss! Oh, thank you! I better run and get those children into school. Goodbye, Martha,’ she whispered te me, an waved, turnin te run back up the stairs.
We drove down Talbot Street an I looked at all the people goin inta the shops, an me stomach felt sick at the thoughts of havin te go in an rob all the butter. Jaysus! Thank you, God, fer makin tha stop. Now I can forget all about tha. I let me shoulders drop an let out me breath, happy at them times bein gone fer ever.
The taxi pulled up outside the Department of Education. I remember this place,
I thought, lookin up at the steps. Tha’s where I robbed the chairs fer the ma tha time Jackser was locked up! ‘Are we goin in there, Miss?’
‘Yes,’ she said, leanin over te the taxi man, sayin thank you an openin the door, flingin her cigarette butt inta the middle a the road an leavin the inside of the car lookin like it was on fire!
I leapt out, thinkin me new hat wit the woolly ball will be stinkin wit the smell a smoke.
‘Come along,’ she said, grabbin me arm an marchin me up the steps.
We went inta the hall an a man said, ‘Up to room four.’
‘Here we are!’ she said, wheezin like a bagpipes an collapsin onta the door, knockin on it wit her knuckles.
‘Come in!’ a culchie voice barked, whippin open the door.
‘This is the child from the convent, Martha Long,’ gushed Miss, blinkin an coughin an smilin, waitin fer him te say somethin.
He stared down at me, then lifted his big roundy bald head wit a few strips a hair across the front, wrappin themselves aroun his ear, an said, ‘Fine! Good, would you take a seat downstairs, this won’t take long. Come in, sit,’ he barked at me, flyin aroun te a big swingin armchair wit the horse’s hair burstin up through the seat an planked himself down, pushin papers outa his way an foldin his arms across the desk an stared at me, thinkin before he said anythin.
I sat up an watched him.
‘So! You’ve been giving the nuns trouble!’
I looked at him, wonderin wha nuns he was talkin about. I was good fer the last week, not a bit a trouble, except them gobshites, the young ones. But not the nuns!
‘We are going to send you to a reformatory!’ he roared, sniffin an sittin back again, foldin his arms, lettin the word fly aroun the room, bouncin against the walls, then waitin fer the ringin te stop an see wha I thought about tha.
Not much! So I stayed quiet an watched him, feelin meself go cold. Fuck you, pig face, if tha’s wha this is all about . . . then youse can all go an fuck off!
