Ma, It's a Cold Aul Night an I'm Lookin for a Bed

by Martha Long

  ‘Oh, eh, yeah, sorry!’ I said, making a half-hearted attempt with a few shifts up the seat. ‘Can you get in with me case?’ I said, looking up at her face with the water streaming out of her hair.

  ‘Jaysus! I’ll sit somewhere else,’ she muttered, making for the long seat at the back. Gawd! That was lucky. She would have ruined me good coat, with the size of her! Sitting on top of me. And all that wet. Not to mention the smell! It must be years since that aul one had a wash. Jaysus! Yer very mean, Martha. Yeah, that was cruel. Still and all! I have to think of me good clothes. They don’t come cheap! Then again, I might get stuck some day ending up looking like that meself! She didn’t always look like that, I’ll bet. Hmm!

  I smiled up at her, hoping she might smile back and I’d make meself feel better. She saw me looking and stared for a minute. Looking like I had an awful cheek to be smiling at her after what I’d just done. Then she curled her lip up under her nose and turned away from me, like I was an awful bad smell.

  Jaysus! That didn’t go very well! I felt like laughing at the carry on of meself, but just stared out the window seeing nothing. Afraid to look back up at her again in case she roared down and asked me what I was looking at.

  I moved back over to the window and wiped the glass, watching the pool of water roll down and catch in the window frame. Then I stuck me face to the glass and stared out. All the shops along Dorset Street were pitch black with the shutters pulled down. The bus slowed down, stopping to let on people trying to make it off the footpath, with the wind and rain driving them back. The lights from the street lamps glowed orange in the dark, and I watched the rain blowing through the light, making it look bluey black. People struggled across the road, with their coats blowing out behind them, getting soaked to the skin. An umbrella blew inside out. I watched, as the woman got yanked backwards with the force of the storm pulling the umbrella clean out of her hand. It took off, flying through the air, and sailed over the high wall of the Bishop’s Palace. Without warning, the wind went mad. Gusting across the road, lifting her off her feet. She staggered, dancing backwards with her arms flying, like she was trying to swim.

  ‘Oh, my God! She’s going to fall under that car coming up right behind her!’ a woman roared out, sitting behind me on the bus.

  ‘Where?’ people shouted. Everyone pushing their heads against the glass and wiping it like mad. We all watched, holding our breaths as the car skidded, sending water gushing into the air, and swerved away from the woman flying backwards heading straight for the wheels under the car. The car stopped dead in the middle of the road. I could hear the gasps of shock from the other people as we all stared out, seeing her struggle to get her balance. She rocked backwards and forwards with her arms held out, then planted her feet on the wet road, letting herself balance against the bonnet of the car, and took off again. Ignoring the car and everything else in her path. Fighting into the wind and the rain with her head down and her back bent. She slowed down, throwing her head sideways to take in the bus slowly moving off, making its way towards her. But she just kept going, bus or no bus.

  The driver decided to take no chances and stopped. Waiting to let her get back across from the other side of the road. Knowing she was making it her business to get across the very wide road and wasn’t stopping for nobody.

  ‘Jesus!’

  ‘That was lucky!’

  ‘Holy mother of God.’

  ‘She’s one lucky woman!’ people all said, shaking their heads, nobody feeling the better of it. God! She nearly got herself killed stone dead, I thought. She could have ended up on a mortuary slab, in the dead house. God! You can be alive one minute, and dead the next. It’s hard to understand that! Instead now, she’s probably thinking about getting herself home and out of her wet clothes and into a big cushy armchair beside a roaring red fire, and eating a lovely hot fry, with a steaming-hot pot of tea. Then toasting herself with the feet up, resting on a stool. Then later on, go to bed with a delicious hot cup of Horlicks, and climbing into the bed with a hot-water bottle. Getting all snug and cosy. Well, that’s what the little granny used to do. Go to bed with a mug of Horlicks. I didn’t like the taste of it, even though she said it was good for me. I prefer cocoa, made on milk. But I’m really thinking that’s what I would like for meself.

  Me clothes are going to be ruined! And I’m hungry again. What bloody put the idea into me head of leaving on a night like tonight? I should have stayed another night with Clare. All wrapped up and cosy in me room.

  Gawd! I hope me flat is cosy. I wonder if it has a fireplace? I could get coal and light the fire. Tomorrow I could do that. It’s too late to go looking for coal now. Everything’s shut up for the night. Anyway, you wouldn’t put a dog out on a night like tonight. Never mind walk the streets yourself in that weather. Maybe the shop sells coal. No, it would have to be a hardware shop.

  Where am I now? I pressed me nose to the window again, seeing we were coming to me stop. ‘Quick, move yourself! The next stop is mine,’ I muttered to meself, sounding like an aul one. I jumped up, grabbing me suitcase, seeing all the steam on the bus and people dozing in their seats with the heat rising up from their damp coats. Oh, bloody hell! Me lovely coat and hat and even me shoes will be destroyed. Why didn’t I wear me old green coat? Jaysus! I’m a right gobshite.

  The bus stopped to let me off, and I hesitated, seeing the black dirty water running along the gutters. I didn’t want to splash me coat. The bus started to move off and I leapt onto the footpath, missing the rushing water and taking me suitcase down with me. The rain immediately lashed into my face, with the wind lifting the hat off me head, sending it flying through the air. I grabbed out, catching hold of it before it hit the ground, and jammed it into my coat pocket. Jaysus! What a night to come out!

  I lowered my head, keeping me face down, and started to push against the wind and rain, with the suitcase banging against my leg. All I could see was the rain hammering against the footpath as it drove into the ground. The lights from the cars rushing past made the water sparkle and dance above the ground, lighting up the path. Then the quiet and darkness again, as the cars faded into the distance. Leaving me with only the wind howling, and the lashing rain beating against me legs.

  Jaysus! Am I there yet? I lifted me head slightly, to see how far I’d got, seeing the lights of the shop in the distance. It was the only one lit up. The rain got heavier, and the wind blew it full force, smacking against my head and face, making me lose my breath and soaking me to the skin. ‘Nearly there,’ I muttered. ‘Thank God it’s not far from the bus stop. That’s handy for getting into town.’

  The rain belting me in the face made it hard for me to see ahead. I could feel the water running down me neck, soaking the collar of my frock. I stopped, putting the case down on the wet ground and closed the top buttons of me coat, getting blown backwards and knocking the case on the ground. ‘Ahh! What am I doing, bringing meself out on a night like this?’ I screamed, opening me mouth and nearly crying, tasting the water spilling into me mouth. Then I saw how foolish I was, crying in the wind. ‘Right!’ I sniffed. ‘Get yourself moving.’ Then I picked up the case, setting off again, trying to think of something happy.

  I’m going me own way! Yeah! It’s just dawning on me now. I started feeling nervous and excited at the same time. Imagine! I’m all grown up now! Out in the world on my own. I have me own place to live, and a job. I need never again put up with anyone’s madness, or get the life beaten out of me, or work for nothing, or have people even thinking of telling me what to do. No! Now I’m me own person. The rest is up to me. I can sink or swim. Yeah! That’s right, I told meself. Trying to buck meself up at the thought of losing me lovely home comforts with Clare and Greg and the boys, and little Aoife.

  I could see the bright lights from the shop as I passed a laneway with a door at the side. Wonder if that’s where the flat is? I walked on, pushing in the door of the shop, and stopped, putting me head in first, seeing shelves stacked with te
a and bread at one end, and cigarettes and sweets and newspapers at the top end. The long wooden counter ran the length of the big room, then across at the end, and up the other side. Gawd! It’s big. Look at the size of it! Me eyes stretched along the shelves, seeing on the right side a long showcase under the counter, stretching the length of the room. With fancy-looking chocolates, and biscuits where they sell them loose, by the ounce. They were all sitting in their boxes with the glass lids, so you could see what you’re getting.

  I walked over to the counter, letting me case drop down on the floor, and waited for the shop assistant to finish serving a man. I stood, letting the rainwater drip down the length of me. In no time at all, I was standing in a pool of water. Bloody hell! I thought, moving away from the water and looking down at meself, flicking me wringing hair out of me eyes to see what was going on. I’m saturated from head to toe. I still can’t get over the stupidity of me not wearing me old clothes.

  The woman serving behind the counter had short brown hair, curled in a tight perm on top of her head. The back was cut short like a man’s and dead straight. It stood up like a flower pot. I stared at her, seeing the red culchie face, with half-dead-looking grey eyes. The only movement was from her mouth, twitching into a straight line, showing how annoyed she was with the man for not being able to make up his mind about what he wanted. His eyes flew up and down the shelves, moving himself from one foot to the other to get a better look past her, blocking his view of the sweets.

  ‘Gimme a packet a them wine gums,’ he said, rooting in his trouser pocket for the change.

  ‘Sixpence,’ she muttered, making it sound like a snarl. ‘Yeah, can I help you?’ she said, turning her head to me and raising her eyebrows, waiting to hear what I wanted. I hesitated, waiting for the man to come up with the money he was counting in his hand. ‘What do yeh want?’ she barked.

  ‘I, eh—’

  ‘Sixpence! Is tha right?’ said the man, interrupting me and throwing down coppers with a thrupenny bit. Raising his eyebrows and giving her a dirty look, not liking the way she served him. She said nothing, just picked the money up and pressed the keys sticking out of the cash register. It tinkled and flew open, then she dropped the money in and slammed it shut. The man stopped to open his sweets and stuck one in his mouth, then pulled up the collar of his coat, making his way out into the terrible stormy dark night.

  ‘Shocking weather! You wouldn’t believe how bad that storm is until you have to go out in it!’ I said, smiling at her, hoping she might smile back. She said nothing, just stared at me. I could hear me voice fading into the distance and me smile going with it!

  ‘Do yeh want something?’ she said, raising her eyebrows at me.

  ‘Yeah!’ I said, hearing meself saying, ‘I don’t want you to smile. Yer face might crack. Still, you have enough to worry yeh when you look at yourself in a mirror. That face is an awful affliction to be carrying!’ I snorted, lifting me shoulders, giving her the same treatment.

  ‘That’s it! I’m not serving you. You can get out,’ she said, throwing her arm at the door.

  ‘I’m not asking to be served. By any chance, would you happen to be Molly?’

  ‘Who wants to know?’ she snapped.

  ‘Listen, you can tell me where the flat is for this shop. I’m going to be working here first thing in the morning.’

  ‘Oh!’ she said, whipping her head up, as if I was challenging her for a row. Staring me up and down the length of the floor. I stared back at her, taking in the flowery aul blouse thrown over her big bulk, with a huge chest sticking out. The blouse had definitely seen better days. It was covered in all colours, and the long aul moth-eaten Arran cardigan with the torn pocket hung on her like a rag. The big grey wool skirt wrapped around her massive arse went well down past her knees, hiding her big legs. That skirt looks like something she made out of an old horse blanket. Jaysus! What a culchie!

  ‘What’s your name?’ she snapped.

  ‘What’s yours?’

  ‘Go on then. Around to the side of the shop, down the lane and bang on the door. Someone will let you in.’ Then she turned her back on me, pretending to fix the packets of sweets hanging at the side of the shelf.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, whipping up me case and handbag, and marching out of the shop, leaving a trail of water behind me, dripping me way back out into the storm. ‘Fucking culchie aul fucker,’ I muttered under me breath. ‘If yer not happy, then youse should all go back to the bog where youse came from!’ I heard meself say, listening to the way I used to speak not too long ago.

  I banged the letter box, seeing there was no bell. Then waited, the wind whipping up me coat, and the rain lashing the legs and face off me. Fucking weather! You would know it’s December. I hate the winter. I stood waiting, starting to shiver, and nothing happened. No one came to open the door. So I banged again, rattling the hell out of the letter box, then waited.

  Fuck this! I was just about to go back to the shop when I heard feet coming down the stairs. A big woman with black-framed glasses and a man’s haircut stood looking down at me, trying to take me in. ‘You’re the new girl?’

  ‘Yeah! Martha is my name,’ I said, pushing past her to get in out of the weather and making for the stairs. There was no room for the two of us in the entrance.

  ‘Right! Up the stairs. You’re in with me,’ she said, rushing up and trying to squeeze past me. I followed up behind her, the two of us making our way down a passage past doors, with the whole corridor blocked by big cardboard boxes. ‘That’s the kitchen,’ she said, waving her hand at a little room with a table and a cooker with shelves and an aul kitchen dresser with glass doors. ‘Come on. This is my room,’ she said, holding the door open for me. ‘You are sharing with me,’ she sniffed, not looking too happy about it.

  I walked in, looking around a big musty old room with two windows, one at each end. ‘This is my bed,’ she said, pointing to a single bed sitting under the far window on the left. ‘Your bed is up that end.’ I looked up, seeing a single bed pushed into the corner, with a big old wardrobe beside it, and the door hanging off its hinges. I looked at the dressing table sitting between the two windows and it was covered in face powder and all her make-up and stuff. Nylons hung off the mirror, and the place was covered with her clothes and shoes dumped everywhere. Even on my bed. ‘You keep to your end,’ she said, rushing up to yank her stuff out of the wardrobe, and dump it into the bottom of another wardrobe sitting in the corner at her end.

  ‘Are you a Dubliner?’ she said, waiting, with her hands on her hips, for me answer.

  ‘Yes, I am. You’re a country woman, right?’

  ‘Yes! I’m from Kerry.’ There was a silence between the two of us. You could hear the room holding its breath. I felt heat rising in me belly, waiting for her to say something bad about the Dubliners. But she thought better about it, seeing me staring at her, with my eyebrows lifted and me eyes spitting venom.

  ‘What’s your name?’ I said, seeing her turn her back.

  ‘Molly!’ she snapped.

  ‘Well, Molly, I have nothing against culchies, I’ve met some lovely ones,’ I said, wanting to get back at her for being a miserable cow.

  ‘I’ve nothin against jackeens!’ she snapped.

  ‘But sure why would you? Aren’t we very good to you? Here you are invading our city and we give you all plenty of work, feed you and clothe you! What more would you want?’ I said, hanging up me wet dripping coat in the wardrobe. All I heard was the slamming of the door and she was gone. I was left talking to the empty room.

  Oh, oh! There’s definitely going to be trouble by the looks of the people working in this place. Jaysus! All a shower of fucking red-neck culchies! They hate us Dubliners.

  I sat down on the side of the bed and looked around the room. The bulb was weak and didn’t give out much light. Mother a God! What a kip! I thought, looking around the place, feeling miserable inside meself. The place had no life in it. Jaysus! It looks like the store
room, with the bare grey plaster walls. There’s a terrible musty smell. That Molly one probably never throws open the windows to give the place an airing. I could feel the damp. I looked around, seeing no heaters. Jaysus! There’s no heat, no pictures on the wall, nothing that would make it look like a home. Only the sight of her smelly clothes thrown in a heap everywhere. Ah, fuck! She really doesn’t want to have to share the room with me. I don’t blame her. I thought I was coming to something lovely, cosy and warm. Or at least to have me own room. I knew it! You get nothing for nothing. There had to be a catch somewhere. Flat, me arse!

  I lifted me head from the half-dark room with the bare-naked bulb hanging from the ceiling. Seeing the rain lashing at the window, and the panes of glass rattling like mad in the window frames, and wondered if I did the right thing being in such a hurry to leave Clare’s house. I could feel me heart slipping down into me belly, and I felt cold and miserable. I shivered, with the cold in the room hitting me after sitting in this soaking wet frock, and the collar sticking to me neck with the sopping wet. Jesus, this is worse than nothing. On top of that, I will have to work and live with these culchie cows! Ah, to hell with it! I can always move on if it doesn’t work out, I sighed, standing to me feet, and humped the suitcase onta the bed. I’ll make the best of it, just for a short while anyway, see how it goes. I can always look for something else.

  I took out me working skirt and blouse with the navy-blue jumper Clare gave me, and left out me old bokety brown shoes. Then left me dressing gown, slippers, nightdress and washbag sitting on the bed and shut the case. Leaving it standing on the floor in the wardrobe. The door wouldn’t shut, it was hanging by one hinge. Ah, leave it.

  I turned around and peeled the wet frock off me, and looked for a hanger in the wardrobe. None! Not even one to hang me coat. I looked down to where your woman had stuffed her clothes, seeing a load of hangers sticking out of the end of her wardrobe. Mean cow. She robbed them all. I bent down and picked up a handful, listening to make sure she wasn’t coming back. I didn’t want her to start thinking I was trying to rob her stuff. I hung me wet coat up inside the wardrobe, and got another hanger for me frock. Then I peeled the rest of me clothes off, throwing them on the bed, and dived into me nightdress and dressing gown, wrapping the belt tight around my waist, and slipped me damp feet into the new red fluffy slippers I’d bought meself. I shivered again, feeling the lovely heat from the dressing gown going through me.