by Martha Long
‘Come back here, you!’ she screamed.
I came te a skidding halt and turned, making me way back inta the passage. ‘Yes, Mother?’
‘Look, what is all this nonsense you repeating yourself after me and shouting around the convent like this? Really!’
‘Oh, sorry, Mother. If ye tell me . . . Oh, right! I understand now! Whatever ye say te me, I am te keep quiet and not repeat it!’
‘Yes,’ she said slowly, trying te figure me out. ‘I don’t know what has come over you these last couple of months. That accident must have caused more than just damage to your hand,’ she said, dismissing me with a wave of her wrist.
Touché, Mother! Touché, as the French would say. Ye got me back on that one. Next round te me!
I flew out the door, seeing the same two young ones who had been throwing their eye at the cow, wanting te rob the milk, the last time they showed up here. They are about ten and sixteen years old now, I thought, watching them making for the nuns’ private garden, where they hang out all their privates. Knickers and vests and stuff like that. Fuck! They are probably after the stuff on the line!
I slowed down, taking me time getting there. Let them have a few pairs of knickers; they can give them te their ma. They certainly wouldn’t fit them! I strolled in, opening me Woodbine packet and pulled out a full cigarette. Pity I had te go back on these, I sighed, slipping the cigarette back inta the pocket of me work smock. ‘Hello, girls. What are ye’s up te?’ I said, bouncing in and catching them swinging outa the knickers on the line. I knew that’s just what they would be up te.
‘Oh, hello, Miss! We weren’t doin nothin wrong, were we, Biddy?’
‘No! We was just havin a look,’ the little one said, throwing her hair the colour of hay outa her eyes te get a better look at me.
I saw her pass the navy-blue knickers wrapped up in a ball behind her back, and the other one moved in close and shoved it under her coat. ‘Come on. Let’s go, girls. These nuns wouldn’t think twice about calling the coppers if they catch ye robbing anything.’
‘Wha? Honest te God, on me granny’s grave would I tell ye a word of a lie!’ she said, shoving the stuff further up under the coat and catching it under her arm.
I laughed. ‘Are they a pair of nun’s knickers ye have there, shoved under yer coat?’ I pointed.
‘Wha? No, Miss! Honest te God, we took nothin. Did we, Biddy?’
‘No, honest te God! We didn’t touch nothin,’ lisped the little one.
‘Nothin at all!’ repeated the big one, her eyes staring outa her head, swearing her life away. ‘But would ye have any aul clothes ye don’t want?’
‘Well, the only old clothes I have,’ I said slowly, looking down at meself, ‘I’m wearing them!’
‘Oh!’ she said, looking at me grey woollen skirt that had seen better days, then down at me brown shoes that someone had left behind in the 1950s. They probably looked lovely when they were in the fashion, but now the heels were bokety, going down on one side, making me walk as if I had bad hips. But that’s all I could find in the shoe room. Anything good was gone before it hit the floor.
‘Oh,’ she said again, looking down the length of me and feeling sorry for me. ‘Are ye an orphan, then? Are there many orphan childre livin in this place?’ she said, looking around at the big buildings.
‘Oh, a good number,’ I said, looking at her feeling very sad at the thought of all the orphans locked up here.
‘Tha’s terrible,’ she said. ‘Innit, Biddy?’
‘Yeah, terrible!’ Biddy said, nodding her head up and down, looking like she was going te cry.
‘An have ye no mammy an daddy?’ the big one asked in a very sorrowful voice.
‘Ah, I have a ma, all right. But listen, don’t waste yer time worrying about the kids here; sure, they don’t know they are born with the life they have. They are better fed than you!’
‘Still and all,’ she said, ‘not havin a mammy and daddy, especially a mammy. I wouldn’t want te be in their shoes. Would we, Biddy?’
‘No, I wouldn’t!’ Biddy said, staring at me like I’m the most interesting thing she ever saw in her life. Every time I opened me mouth, she stared from me face then dropped her head down te me toes again, trying te get a good picture of what an orphan looks like.
‘I’d go mad if anythin happened te me mammy, wouldn’t we, Biddy?’
‘Yeah, we’d go mad!’
‘Right! We better get moving, before someone comes in and asks questions about why ye are in here.’
‘Right so, Miss! Come on, Biddy, let’s get moving.’
Then they took off, heading down the avenue, and I felt a sadness inside me. They remind me so much of meself not too long ago. I felt sorry for them, having te scratch around for something te eat, always on the lookout for trouble. The poor things felt sorry for me! They have more of a bit of humanity in their little finger than some of the nuns and kids in this place. They would rob the eyes outa yer head, but they would share their last crust of bread with ye.
Somehow, I take more te people like them than I do te the likes of the people living here, or most of the so-called respectable people. They may not have much, but they love their ma. So she must be good te them. And they are right. Having food in yer belly and a roof over yer head is not enough. I used te think that’s all I needed te make me happy, and te get away from Jackser, of course. That still is the best thing that ever happened te me. But there are other things too. Like belonging te someone. I was very quick te say I had a ma. But I don’t really, not in the way she thinks. Her ma probably has a bit more sense than mine ever did. I never felt like me ma’s child. She was always looking for me te take care of her. So she never got te be me ma, and I never got te be her child; that was the way with me and the ma. Yeah! It was always me looking after her.
These days I want someone te look after me, make a fuss of me, love me. I never thought about that until I came here. It never occurred te me that there was such a thing. I never looked for it. I never even heard the word mentioned; there was no such thing. I suppose I had more important things te worry about, like trying te stay alive. It’s true what they say. The more ye get the more ye want. I don’t understand that. It’s what stops us from being happy, I suppose.
I watched the girls hurrying off down the avenue. I suppose they must have thought of somewhere else they could go for a feed and hopefully get something te bring back te their ma and feed the other kids. God! Am I glad I am outa all that. Thank you, God for looking after me. I sure am lucky.
The air suddenly turned cooler and the sun had dipped in. I felt a drop of rain landing on me and looked up at the sky. Jaysus! It’s turning pitch black. I heard Neddy the donkey roaring his head off in the distance. He’s probably raging the two girls ignored him. Then there was an unmerciful clap of thunder. It boomed just over me head, and the sky suddenly fell apart without warning, dropping its heavy load of clouds, soaking me te the skin in seconds. Neddy screamed his head off, and the cows joined in the roaring, and it sounded like the end of the world. With the bleeding thunder drowning out the lot of them, making me feel God was having a party all for himself, playing bowls up in his heaven. Me eyes peeled over te the playing-fields toilet. Then whipping over te the back door. Which is quickest? Toilet! I need a smoke.
I had a quick look around. Nobody about. Good! I tore over and rushed inside, slipping the cigarette outa me pocket. I looked at it sitting in me hand as it collapsed inta a mess of soggy tobacco. Ah, fuck. What an awful waste. Water dropped from me head, landing on me nose, and sat there wobbling while I thought what te do about me smoke. I shook me head, seeing sparks of rainwater flying around me, and threw the tobacco down the toilet, flushing the chain in case Sister Eleanor comes across it, then opened me packet, checking how many I had left. Seven. The packet was damp and I gently took out one, trying te light a match. Fuck! They’re damp, too. I managed te get it lighting after nearly wasting the whole box of matches, putting it clos
e te the cigarette te dry it out, then lit up and sucked in a great gulp of hot burning tobacco, making me feel I was sitting next te God, happy as Larry.
Ah, this is the life, I shivered, looking out at the pouring rain and enjoying having the open air te meself, with not a soul in sight. Gawd! It’s great having a smoke, and even better because it’s not allowed. I better keep these hidden. If Sister Eleanor gets her hands on them, that will be the end of me smokes. And as for me! I won’t hear the end of it for many a day te come. And she won’t speak te me for a bloody month. Gawd! She’s an awful woman for holding a grudge. And she sulks like mad. Sometimes I think she’s very childish. Jaysus! Come te that, all them bleeding nuns are very childish in their own way. It comes of not having te worry about putting the bread on the table or worrying about having a roof over their heads. Everything is laid on for them. All they have te do is do what they are told and obey the rules. No! That’s not for me. I don’t like rules. I get a terrible urge te break them, just because ye’re not supposed te do that. I have always been like that, even as a little kid. I suppose that’s the childish side of me. I certainly don’t take orders from anyone. Nope! So that gets me inta a lot of trouble.
I sighed happily, hopping up and down, enjoying me sense of freedom. Then held me breath, listening. The silence was deeper now. Jaysus! How long have I been out here? Ah, help, Mammy! They will kill me. They’re probably looking for me right now, from one end of the convent te the other. Oohh! I better get back. I was whining and keening te meself, listening te me sobs rattling outa me chest as I ran. What will I say? Oooh, think of something quick in case they catch ye! Got it! I had te fly after them young ones who held up the nuns’ knickers – no, undergarments – after whipping them off the line, and ran off with them saying we were not getting them back. I chased them, Mother, all the way te the village. But they hopped on the bus, and I had te walk all the way back in the rain, getting meself soaked!
Yeah! She thinks I’m thick anyway, so she should believe I’m capable of anything . . .
‘Eh, then I stood for a few minutes outa the rain, Mother, under a tree and not getting much shelter, Mother! Look at the state of me, Mother! I’m soaked te the skin,’ I said, holding out me smock and flicking me rats’ tails up at her. ‘Then I didn’t realise the time passing,’ I sniffed, looking up at her, making meself sound like I’m crying, and dripping wet all over me shiny polished chapel passage.
‘You expect me to believe that?’ she roared, steam coming outa her nose, her big goitre eyes going red with the rage. ‘So while you have been gadding about, goodness knows where,’ she snorted, flinging her veil back and stamping her foot, ‘the phone has been hopping off the hook, and Mother Pius and I spent precious time searching for you! How dare you vanish and abandon your post?’ she screamed, nearly spitting all over me, her face turning purple now, and sounding like she was going te explode. ‘I expect in the next couple of months you will be coming to me looking for a reference. Well, madam, I shall certainly not be recommending you for any job if you do not pull your socks up and become more responsible. I most certainly could not recommend you to any employer with your present record. No!’ she said, giving her neck an unmerciful jerk, the collar getting tighter as her eyes got redder, and her purple face turning black, then flinging her veil back with a flying flip of the back of her hand. I could see the knobby pin fly off the top of her head, sending the veil hanging te one side. ‘Get out of my sight!’ she snorted, wrestling the veil back in its place, and her mouth flew up and down with funny sounds coming out like she was trying te stop herself from cursing.
‘Right, Mother,’ I said, backing away from her.
‘And Sister Eleanor will have something to say to you when she meets you. So do not dare leave your waiting room!’ she screamed, losing the rag with the veil and me and the whole job of being a Reverend Mother.
Ah, yakety yak, Mother! Stick yer reference up yer arse. I’ll make me own way without any help from you. So go and fuck yerself!
Oh hell, Sister Eleanor! I forgot about her. She only has te come near me and she’ll know exactly what I was up te. She’ll smell the smoke off me and launch herself inta a mad frenzy trying te find the cigarettes. She wouldn’t even think twice of grabbing the knickers offa me, knowing where we hide our smokes. Oh, gawd. Where will I hide them? The chapel! They wouldn’t think of looking in there. No! I wouldn’t be able te get them back. There’s always some aul nun in there day or night wearing their knees out praying. Fuck, think. I shot inta the linen room and hid them under the bottom sheet in the press. It will dry them out anyway. Then I wandered back up, gently opening the chapel door, seeing the Reverend Mother on her knees, praying for patience and understanding with poor aul me! Sniff! I could easily have been chasing after them kids te get the nuns’ knickers back. How does she know I wasn’t? Now I will have te listen te Sister Eleanor roaring and screaming and gnashing her teeth because I got her inta trouble with the Reverend Mother! Well, the two of us! Then she’ll start beating her chest with her fist, vowing she will never speak te me again and threatening me with blue murder and not speaking te me for the next two months.
Hm! I had an idea. I crept up te the phone, in case Ma Pius sprang outa her office, and leaned in, grabbing the telephone book. Then crept past the chapel in an awful hurry, making straight for me own private little room.
I closed the book shut, saying the telephone number te meself, then crept past the chapel again, creeping and creaking along the passage on me tiptoes in case Ma Pius caught me. Then landed the phone book back in the little box and made me way te Ma Pius’s office. What will I say if she’s there? Right! I’ll ask her if the Reverend Mother is around, because I have an important matter te discuss with her.
If she asks, I’ll tell her the same story about the knickers and say I wanted te know if I should report the theft te Sister Mary Innocent in the laundry. Yeah! Sounds mad. She’ll lose her patience with me, but I’ll get away with it. I gave a little tap at her office and listened. Not a sound. Then a harder tap just in case. No! She’s not there, good. I let out me breath and made back in for the telephone and lifted the receiver and dialled the number I memorised. Then waited, holding me breath.
‘Gardai! Sergeant Michael Tom Tosh here.’
‘Yesss!’ I drawled out through me nose. ‘This is Miss Lillybeth Puckingham, spelled with a P. I live in Puckingham Manor, directly across from the convent.’
‘Yes, Miss Buckingham,’ he said, smartening himself up and giving a cough, all attention. ‘How can I help you, madam? What is the trouble?’
‘The trouble?’ I shrieked. ‘Those dreadful nuns are leaving that poor unfortunate donkey out in the middle of a field, allowing it to face the awful weather we have been having . . . Goodness, it has been awful, don’t you think? I mean, do you think we will be having a summer?’
‘Well . . .’ he said.
‘Anyway!’ I roared. ‘To get back to the matter at hand. About that poor neglected donkey! It is simply frightful,’ I gasped, ‘listening to it crying night and day, all alone and getting soaking wet. It is simply pitiful. I want you to drop whatever you are doing – it can’t be more important than that poor donkey’s welfare – go up and speak to that dreadful Reverend Mother and tell her to take the donkey in for shelter at once!’
There was silence while he thought about this.
‘Hello, Sergeant? Are you still there?’ I screeched, sounding like Ma Pius when she’s searching for me.
‘Oh, oh, I am listening. Yes! I will get someone onto that straight away.’
‘What? No, Sergeant! This is too important to leave to one of your subordinates.’ I thought of that at the last minute. ‘Please go up yourself at once! At once! Or I shall take this matter to my cousin, the President of Ireland! Mr De Valera himself!’ I snorted. ‘Do I make myself clear?’
‘Oh, oh, yes! Very clear, Miss, eh, Buckingham.’
‘Puckingham!’ I screeched. ‘Puckingham!�
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‘Yes, sorry about that. No, no! Don’t you worry. I am on me way as soon as I put this phone down.’
‘Excellent! I shall look forward to seeing results, then. Goodbye.’ Then I slammed down the phone and beetled back te me little room, waiting for the door te ring.
I better say nothing or he might recognise me. I sat waiting and nothing happened. No sign of him, not even a phone call. I got up and started te mooch around the chapel passage, looking up at the bell, dying te ring it. No! But I will, just before I am ready te leave this place for good.
The doorbell rang just as Ma Pius came down the stairs. Me heart leapt with the shock, and Ma Pius stood on the passage, waiting te see who was at the door. I moved quickly past her, seeing her staring out, and opened the door.
‘Hello!’ roared a big aul fella wearing a copper’s uniform and taking his hat off and lifting his big size-twenty boot and landing it on the hall mat. ‘Is the Reverend Mother about?’
I dropped me head, making meself look dopey, and kept me mouth shut, muttering, ‘Ye can folley me, sir!’ showing him inta the little parlour, because the big one is only for priests and women in fur coats that arrive in big cars. I was just closing the door on him still talking te me when Ma Pius pushed past me, saying, ‘What is this all about? Thank you, Martha. I will deal with this.’
I crept off on me tiptoes, then stopped te listen. Sister Benedict came swinging along in an awful hurry from the chapel passage and stopped in front of me, looking at the front door, and shouted outa breath, ‘Was that a policeman I saw coming up the avenue?’
‘Yes, Sister.’
‘What did he want?’
‘I don’t know,’ I mumbled, mooching closer te her, not wanting me voice te be recognised. ‘Mother Pius is in the parlour with him,’ I gasped, in a whisper.
