Ma, I'm Gettin Meself a New Mammy

by Martha Long

  Silence.

  ‘That is it!’ Then she took off heading for the convent.

  I flew inta the playroom. ‘Girls! Trouble! Quick!’ I shouted te the shocked three young ones trying te strangle each other on the couch.

  ‘What? What’s happening?’ Olivia Ryan puffed, lifting her head, loosening her grip on Vanessa Andrewson’s neck.

  ‘I just heard Sister Eleanor is gone over te the convent te get the Reverend Mother because there’s girls smoking in the toilet!’

  Who?’

  ‘Dunno.’

  ‘Gawd! Quick! Let’s go!’ She was off the couch, slapping Andrewson in the kisser with her feet, and Sylvia Peters toppled head-first te the floor.

  ‘Wait! Wait for me!’ they shouted, trying te get themselves moving.

  I was up on the landing with the other ones tearing up behind me. Now we can all gawk without me coming under suspicion!

  ‘Who is in there? Sister Eleanor is gone for the Reverend Mother. Quick, come out!’

  ‘Wait! Don’t go out there,’ whispered Nugent.

  ‘Oh gawd! What am I going to do?’ they moaned.

  ‘Is she out there?’ asked Dilly through the keyhole.

  ‘No! Come on, girls!’

  ‘No! Are ye sure?’

  ‘No, wait! Someone’s coming.’

  ‘Oooh, aaahh! Is it the Reverend Mother?’

  We said nothing, waiting for the convent passage door te open. Then the Reverend Mother peeled in with Sister Eleanor creeping in behind her all red-faced.

  ‘Is the Reverend Mother coming?’ squeaked Dilly Nugent through the keyhole.

  I looked at the Mother’s eyes bulging behind her milk-bottle glasses, and wriggling her head, trying te loosen the collar wrapped around her neck, then she exploded. ‘COME OUT OF THERE AT ONCE!’

  ‘Who’s that?’ squeaked Dilly.

  ‘How dare you? This is the Reverend Mother.’

  The door opened without another word and they all crept out with their heads hanging te their belly buttons.

  ‘Line up there, please.’ She pointed te the wall under the window. ‘Sister, would you take these girls away, please.’

  We crept off, heading down the stairs, taking our time and looking back, not wanting te miss a thing.

  ‘Go to your playroom, please,’ Sister Eleanor said, herding us down te the playroom.

  ‘I need te go te the toilet, Sister,’ I said, pushing past her.

  ‘Get into that playroom,’ she said.

  ‘But I’m jigging te go,’ I said, wrapping me legs around each other.

  ‘Get into the playroom now! Or you will all be punished!’

  ‘What about me?’ I shouted te the door shutting in me face.

  They all milled around the door, trying te hear the ructions upstairs.

  ‘Shush!’ I turned the handle very quietly. ‘We’ll sneak out and listen at the bottom of the stairs.’

  ‘Yeah!’ they tittered, watching the door opening quietly.

  I put me head out the door and waved te the others. ‘Come on! Quick. Shush! Don’t make a sound.’

  We crept along the passage, hearing the Reverend Mother tell them, ‘There will be major consequences for your actions. I intend dealing with this serious matter by . . .’

  ‘GET BACK INTO THAT PLAYROOM. YOU ARE ALL VERY BOLD FOR DISOBEYING ME!’ Sister Eleanor whispered in a roar, running at us.

  Aaah! We got such a fright, not expecting her te put her head around the stairs, and took off back te the playroom, not wanting te be in trouble like the Nugent one.

  I roared laughing, and the others got an awful fright. ‘Jaysus! That was great gas,’ I laughed, thinking I’m not finished with Nugent yet! This is going te be the worst week of her life.

  ‘Gawd! They could all be sent to the reformatory in the country,’ said Olivia Ryan. ‘That’s what happened to loads of the girls who gave trouble.’

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ I said, thinking of the Reverend Mother sending me inta the Department of Education, trying te get them te send me away. She never got over the shock of being stuck with me and would still love te see the back of me. But I put a spoke in her wheel by playing them at their own game. Yeah! I work like a demon, go te Mass every morning, always be polite te them and helpful, and try te keep outa trouble. That is difficult, especially with the likes of the Dilly one and her ilk! But I’m going te grind her down! I waited long enough, getting hell on earth from the nuns and the kids. Now I’m the greatest thing since sliced pan with Mother Pius. I keep outa the way with the kids and put fuck-face Nugent in her place. She thinks she can bully everyone and is the leader of the gang . . . me arse! That one has been fucking around with me long enough, trying te get the better of me. So now it’s war! Right! Just wait until Tuesday, Dilly dear, more shocks in store for you! Ha! Nobody gets the better of me!

  ‘No! I am allowing no one out to the club tonight,’ Sister Eleanor said te Loretta, stretching her face in disgust at even the mention of it.

  ‘Why? Ah, fuck you!’ muttered Loretta, making her way out the refectory door, not giving a damn if Sister Eleanor heard her or not. She was not really interested in Sister Eleanor anyway, because she got on very well with Sister Mercy in the kitchen, God help us!

  It takes all sorts te make a world, I thought te meself, heading out the back door before they locked it. I flew off past the convent, hoping Matron Millington or one of the nuns wasn’t looking out the window. I could always say I was looking for one of the nuns te give her a message. In the dark? Out in the grounds? Well, I’ll think of something if I’m caught. Now! Where did the fuckers hide them trousers? I looked carefully around the bushes in the first oak tree. Then moved back, seeing a bit of grey sticking out. Ha! Here we are, four pairs of trousers, and all definitely forbidden. Oh, poor Dilly! You are all going te get it this time.

  I put them back in their hiding place and took off flying past the convent and in the back door, looking for Sister Eleanor. Nope! Not in the refectory. I took off down the passage and inta our playroom.

  ‘Sister! The priest was saying we should be learning about the facts of life and learning all about boys.’

  ‘Who said that?’ asked Sister Eleanor, getting all het-up and red in the face at the mention of the word, the facts of life!

  ‘Well, we should, shouldn’t we?’ said Vanessa Andrewson, knowing full well, with the others all tittering around her, she was embarrassing poor aul Eleanor.

  Sister Eleanor chewed on the needle she held between her teeth and dropped her head inta the sewing machine, pedalling like mad, making the needle fly across the white line.

  ‘Yeah, the priest at the tech school talks to us about all sorts of things.’

  ‘Is that right now?’ she said, keeping her head down, chewing like mad on the needle. ‘And what sort of things would he talk about?’

  ‘Oh, what the fellas might get up to,’ Andrewson said, waving her arms in the air, enjoying herself no end, shocking the life outa Sister Eleanor.

  ‘WHAT? What did you say?’ Eleanor spluttered, nearly swallowing the needle and losing her place, making a crooked line in the sheet, her foot slipping off the pedal. ‘Oh, really!’ she said. ‘Now look what I have just done,’ crying at the sewing machine and scratching under her veil, trying te get at her hair under the white linen bonnet, forgetting we were watching.

  ‘Do you shave your head, Sister Eleanor?’ said Olivia Ryan, changing the subject.

  ‘What?’ roared Sister Eleanor, not really listening, looking very distracted, wondering if she should rip the stitches out.

  ‘Sister Eleanor!’ I said.

  ‘Yes, what?’

  ‘You are wanted.’

  ‘Where? Who wants me?’

  ‘You better go, Sister, it’s urgent.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Come on, Sister!’

  ‘Is it the phone this hour of the night? Sure, the phone is switched off!’

  I kept walking and she
followed me, not really with it, thinking about the mess she made with the sheet.

  ‘Sister, I have something terribly important te tell you,’ I said.

  ‘What? What do you want to say to me? Is someone in the convent asking for me?’

  ‘No, Sister. It’s Dilly Nugent and the others again! They are going te get themself inta terrible trouble,’ I said, looking at her straight in the eyes.

  ‘Oh divine Mother of Jesus,’ she said, putting her hand over her mouth and grabbing me, pushing me down te the cloakroom for a bit more privacy.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, swallowing me spit, taking me time, coughing and wanting te clear me throat.

  ‘Out with it,’ she punched me in the arm, getting herself all worked up with the fright of the mention of the name Dilly Nugent.

  ‘Well, I heard them discussing in the refectory a few nights ago . . .’

  ‘Yes! Go on!’

  ‘Well, I heard them mention . . .’

  ‘Get on with it!’

  ‘Yes! I’m getting there, give me time! It was a terrible shock te me, ye know, when I heard what they were up te!’ I snorted, full of indignation at having me story interrupted every few seconds.

  ‘Well? Yes?’"

  I looked at her, hating when people say that, it ruins me concentration.

  ‘They plan te do a bunk tonight,’ I said, losing me place in the whole sorry mess.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Oh, right! Well, if you let me start at the beginning, I will be able te tell you the full story.’

  ‘Jesus give me patience with these children,’ she said, dropping her head in her hands then looking up at the ceiling like one of them saints getting themselves crucified.

  ‘Well . . .’ I said.

  ‘Martha, if you say that word one more time . . . Will you please just get to the point!’

  ‘Yeah, OK. They’re planning te scarper out the dormitory window when the lights are out. After you go te bed. And shinny down the drainpipe and land on the television room roof, and shinny down the drainpipe on that one. And collect their TROUSERS hidden behind the trees on the avenue, and meet the fellas they met outside the Legion a Mary club the last night they went. And it’s not the altar boys this time, it’s the ratbags from the city centre with the long greasy hair,’ I said, all in one breath.

  Sister Eleanor stopped breathing. Her face was turning purple and her eyes were swimming in shock. ‘Come on, I’ll show you,’ I said, ‘where they have their trousers hidden behind the trees.’

  ‘Jesus wept!’ she said when she got her voice back. Then took off like someone had set fire te her arse.

  ‘Where are you going, Sister?’ I roared.

  ‘Come with me,’ she shouted, heading for the convent.

  ‘But what about going out the back way, the back door?’ I shouted.

  ‘No! If they see you, they will know you were spying on them.’

  ‘I was?’ I said, getting a shock. I knew I was keeping an eye on them . . . but now I’m a spy! It doesn’t sound nice coming outa her mouth! Makes me feel a bit . . .

  ‘Come on! Show me where you found these trousers,’ she said.

  We dashed down the convent stairs, me marvelling at how fast she could run, even with the long habit tripping her up. No bother! She whipped it up, showing black cotton ankles and sensible laced-up leather shoes. We flew out the back convent door and shot past the convent kitchen. And I whizzed past her, not wanting te be outrun in the race te get our hands on the evidence. I left behind a black-and-white blur with hands holding up the habit and landed at the tree, scratching around in the bush, and lifted up the trousers, waving them at Sister Eleanor.

  ‘So,’ she said, ‘it’s true! They were planning to escape down the drainpipes and take off into the city to meet God knows who! Where on earth were they going to get the money for the bus fare?’ she asked me, not able to take the whole thing in.

  ‘Ah, they have money left from the Christmas, Sister. They didn’t hand it all up for you te mind.’

  ‘That’s true,’ she said, thinking about it. ‘Well, this is the last they will see of these,’ she said, shaking the trousers at me. ‘Now, I am going to confront them,’ she said, marching back up the avenue.

  Oh, Dilly Dilly gum drops! You’ll be fifty before you see the light of day, I cackled te meself.

  I sat in me little waiting room, listening for the door or phone te ring, and read all about being a nun in an enclosed order and what you should do. I looked at the cover – fading brown leather – with the pages going yellow and ready te fall te pieces. Jaysus! It was written hundreds of years ago, I thought, examining the date when it was published. I borrowed it outa the nun’s library. Well, they would say robbed or stole, but I’ll put it back. Me robbing days are well gone.

  I coughed and shook meself, getting ready, settling meself down for a good read. These days I’m mad about religion. Especially now as I’m thinking of joining the nuns and becoming a nun meself. I don’t suppose they’d take me here; they know me too well. And I haven’t got the education, but I’m getting there. I looked at the name of the book, The Imitation of Christ. It’s written in very old-fashioned language. But I’ll work it out.

  ‘A nun must sleep with her arms folded in a cross lying on her chest,’ it said. I tried te picture that. Hm! I think I could manage that with a bit of practice.

  ‘The nun must keep custody of the eyes at all times, lest it lead one into the ways of sin.’ Custody! Ahh! Don’t be looking at yourself in the mirror! Right!

  ‘A nun must wear a grey linen shift when taking a bath, lest the sight lead one into impure thoughts.’ Right! No looking at yourself naked. Or ye might start mauling yourself. Got that.

  ‘A nun must flagellate one’s body with a birch made from rushes. But only under the direction of the Spiritual Director or the Mother Abbess! In case it cause one to lose their soul to the devil by indulging in ecstasy.’ I looked at the picture of the nun, her back dripping in blood, her eyes twisted te heaven looking like she was there already. Hm! Don’t like the sound of that. I could give meself little taps of the whip, I suppose, if I had te. Maybe I could ask Sister Eleanor about this. On the other hand, she’ll only fuss about me borrowing the book from the nuns’ library. No! Definitely not her. Right! Work that one out later!

  On the other hand, this book is very old; maybe they don’t do this sort of thing any more. Yeah! I can’t imagine Sister Eleanor having a go at herself with one a them things. No, this is very old-fashioned; they definitely don’t go in for that stuff any more. Jaysus! I’m glad a that. But what about me not having gone te school? I wonder if they would still take me. I could enter when I’m sixteen.

  I had the picture of meself going around in a black habit. I hope I grow a lot taller; I’m still a bit small. But then so is Duck Egg. She looks tiny, wandering around in the black habit. I could be like Sister Eleanor. Praying all the time, flying down te look after the children: I’d like that. Yeah! Looking after children, I understand them, and they listen te me. I don’t have te shout at them like some people. Small children know when ye like them. They just want ye te talk te them, and if ye are kind they will be very obliging and do what ye ask. I noticed that in the nursery. They only dig in their heels if ye roar at them. And the older ones go behind yer back and do what they like anyway, just for the devilment, because they want te get the better of ye. But if ye’re kind, and ye put them on their trust, then, yeah, they want te please ye.

  I suppose we are still like that. I would do anything for Sister Eleanor, providing she is nice te me, but if she acts like she doesn’t like me, and has no time for me, then she gets the full lash. I had the picture of her once when she put me outa the group, and when she came in the morning te call us up for breakfast I lay on in the bed and she went mad, slapping the arse off me for all she was worth. It didn’t work, and I lay on me side, not moving an inch. She grabbed the bedclothes and went off taking them with her, leav
ing me lying on the spring without even the mattress. I stayed put, freezing with the cold and shivering on the spring, with everyone looking and laughing, but I wouldn’t give in. She came back for one more try, slapping away at me until the hand nearly fell offa her. Then the Reverend Mother arrived down, and I sat up and glared at her. ‘Stand out, please.’

  I stood by the side of the bed, not giving a fart about her. I felt cold inside, because they treated me like dirt, and the kids thought I was a great joke. They would call me names and hit me, then stand back and watch the fight. I got tired of that, and wanted Sister Eleanor te like me, but she didn’t. She blamed me for all the trouble with the kids and me always fighting, and, anyway, they were expecting trouble from me right from the beginning, so it was a merry-go-round of me defending meself against the kids and fighting the nuns who had no time for me. That made me feel very lonely and someone who didn’t belong. Like a leper. Yeah! Like the street kid who was dirt and a nuisance te everyone. Something that should be put down. I didn’t know what te do. But when I stared inta that Reverend Mother’s eyes, and saw the glint, her sizing me up and down, her mind flying, delighted te get her hands on me, I knew she thought I was only dirt. The holy nun was no different from anyone else. I saw no sign of the good God in them eyes.

  ‘Are you not happy here?’ she asked me, like she couldn’t care less but was only getting around te saying what she really meant.

  I stared at her, saying nothing.

  ‘Maybe you would be better suited to a convent in the country. You were never suited to this convent.’

  ‘I’m very happy here, Mother,’ I said, seeing where she was leading. Down te a fucking reformatory, and now I had given her the excuse she needed.

  ‘Yes, well, we shall have to see,’ she said, looking at me with that glint again, saying, ‘Get dressed, please, and if you give Sister Eleanor more trouble we will not be having this conversation. You will be leaving us a lot sooner.’

  So I looked around, thinking. Then I saw the nun’s pet, creeping past like a little mouse. Hoping te get by without the cat noticing, giving me a sideways look like she would hate te be like me.