by Martha Long
Right, I’ll feel better when I get into the bed. I threw back the couple of brown thin blankets to fix the bed. Jaysus! The sheets are damp. The cheek of that aul one taking ten bob for the electricity, when she has no heating in the room. The fucking robbing aul fucker! No wonder she has her money. I stripped the bed, looking at the sagging mattress with a hole in the spring underneath. Ah, Jaysus! This is criminal! Me arse is going to be tipping the floor.
I could feel me belly getting hot with the rage. ‘That fat, poxy aul overfed, fucking good-for-nothing aul one has another think coming if she thinks she’s getting ten bob a week outa me for the electricity,’ I muttered, hearing meself crying. Then I remembered. She stops it out of me wages! We’ll see about that. I can help meself to eight bob’s worth of stuff from the shop! That’s only fair. She can have two bob for the electricity. Yeah, I’m satisfied with that. Right! Enough moaning. Just keep moving before yeh drive yourself mad.
I finished making up the bed and looked around to see what else needed doing. That’s it. Everything is sorted out. OK, that’s me all ready for the morning. A cup of hot tea would be nice! I’ll go down and take a look in the kitchen, and see what there is to eat. Maybe I’ll see that Molly one and ask her what time I have to get up in the morning. But first I’ll give me hair a rub. Jaysus! It’s still dripping with the wet. OK, that will do.
I put the towel hanging on the back of the chair sitting next to my bed and combed my hair, then put the washbag under the chair. Bloody hell! Not even a little bedside table to put me stuff on, I thought. Looking around to see if Molly had more then her share. No, nothing. She has only the one little locker. Right, I’m off.
I flapped me way down the concrete passage, slapping me new slippers against the hard ground, hearing voices and seeing the light was on in the kitchen. Great! Someone’s in here. ‘Eh, hello!’ I said, putting me head in the kitchen, seeing Molly sitting at the little formica table talking to a man with snow-white grey hair. The two of them stopped talking. Molly looked busy, examining her mug. ‘God! It’s gone very quiet in here,’ I said, laughing and smiling down at the man. Molly wouldn’t look at me. The man half-smiled, throwing his eyes in my direction, then stood up, grabbing his dishes and making for the sink, saying, ‘Right, I better be off then. I’m hoping to get an early night. Another week starts tomorrow.’
I stood looking, wondering if he was including me in what he was saying. But he kept his back to me and rinsed the dishes under the hot tap and left them stacked to drain on the kitchen sink. ‘Goodnight, Molly. See you tomorrow,’ he said, rushing out the door, giving me a little nod and a jerk of his mouth, to show it was supposed to be a smile. Hmm! I sure know how to empty a room, I thought, watching his back flying out the door. I poked around the worktop, looking for the tea canister.
‘Eh, Molly! Where’s the tea?’
‘What tea?’ she muttered, not bothering to look up at me.
‘You know. That stuff there. What you’re drinking out of that cup,’ I said, getting fed up with her sulking. She said nothing. Just sat there with her hands wrapped around the mug to keep herself warm, twirling it around in her hands and staring at it. ‘Ah, Molly. Come on! You know. Where’s the tea canister to make meself a cup of tea?’
‘You have to buy your own,’ she said, ‘or put money in the kitty.’
‘Wha? What do you mean, no tea? And buy me own? And who the fuck is Kitty?’ I roared, losing me rag.
‘There’s no need for that kind of language here,’ she sniffed, standing herself up and taking in a deep breath, pushing out her overgrown milkers. ‘This is a respectable establishment,’ she said, whipping up her mug and plate and knife, rushing them over to the sink and rinsing them out. I stood with me mouth open, staring at her hands moving from the hot tap, and flying her fingers in and out of the mug, then rubbing the plate. Waiting for her to explain to me what she was talking about.
‘Kitty is the jam jar we pool our money into every week to buy the tea and sugar and milk and cornflakes.’
‘Oh, you have to buy your own,’ I said, not believing it.
‘Of course! You don’t expect Missus Murphy to pay, do you?’
‘Eh, no, I suppose not. How much do you put in?’
‘Five shillings,’ she said.
‘Five shillings!’ I roared. ‘What for?’
‘I just said!’ she shouted back. ‘But if you don’t want to do that, then you can always buy your own.’
‘Right, I’ll buy my own!’ I snorted, looking for a cup to get
meself a drink of cold water. She was out the door, slamming it shut behind her. Me head whirled around looking. Right, where’s the bleedin tea? Miserable aul bastards! I hope they come to a bad end. God forgive me!
Jesus! I’m starved. I got no tea. I haven’t eaten anything since me dinner at one o’clock today. I’m now used to being well fed. Three meals a day. I still haven’t got over me hungry days. I never waste an ounce of grub. I always make sure to clean me plate, never even leaving so much as a crumb. I think it’s terrible to waste good food when people are out there starving for the want of a bit of grub.
Cornflakes, lovely. I emptied half the packet into a bowl, keeping an eye on the door in case someone came in. Oh, bread and a bit of cheese in a box. Damn! May as well get hung for a sheep as a lamb. I took the lot. Lathered on good butter from the fridge, and helped meself to a banana left sitting in a bowl on top of the press. The kettle boiled, I put two spoonfuls of tea into the teapot and let it draw for a minute, sitting it over a low heat on the cooker. Lovely! I carried the teapot over to the table and poured out the tea into Molly’s mug. I could smell the tea pouring out of the teapot as it went up me nostrils. The smell of the tea somehow bringing me back in time to days of being cold and hungry. Ah, lovely. I dived into the cornflakes, slurping on the milk, and milled the cheese sandwich, making short work of the banana. Then poured out another mug of tea for meself, and lit up a Major cigarette.
Ah, this is lovely! I leaned back, watching the smoke curl into the air, feeling nice and warm now, and happy I had got me own back on Molly. Bloody hell! She’ll go bananas when she sees her stuff gone. Bananas! Ha! Yeah, thanks, Molly. It tasted lovely. Jaysus! She’ll go off her head. Serves her right. There’s no need for the way she carries on. I was barely in the door, in fact she left me standing out in the pouring rain. Only I pushed me way in. I’d probably still be standing out there right this minute. Culchies! I’m definitely going off them now.
I woke up with a shock, staring into the dark. Me heart was flying. Jaysus! What’s happening? Then it hit me. A bell ringing. I stared around the room, trying to make out where I was. Oh! It’s an alarm clock. I could barely make out a huge mound buried under the blankets at the other end of the room. The shop! Me new job! I better get up.
I raised me arms outside the threadbare blankets and the cold hit me straight away. I whipped them back, not feeling too much warmer. Jaysus! I couldn’t get to sleep last night with the cold. Me head was still wet, and I spent the night shivering around in the bed trying to drop off to sleep. I suppose I better get up. I don’t want to be late. But your woman, the Molly one, is not stirring herself!
Right! I leapt up, throwing off the blankets, and dived out, feeling me way around the chair, groping for me clothes in the pitch black. I didn’t want to put on the light and have her start giving out to me. Not until I was dressed anyway. I tore into me clothes, and slipped on me shoes, and took off out the door and fell over a box sitting in me way. I went down sideways, spinning around and landing on me arse with me foot under me. ‘The curse a Jaysus on that aul Murphy one! Her and her fucking boxes,’ I muttered in a loud whisper, rubbing me arse and sitting down on the box to rub me ankle. I got up and limped down the hall, making me way into the kitchen, seeing the aul fella from last night.
‘Hello! Good morning,’ I said, rattling over to see what he was cooking. ‘Are you frying an egg?’ I said, looking at the two eggs sizzli
ng around in the frying pan.
‘I am!’ he said, not taking his eyes off the eggs and flipping them over with the lifter.
‘Eh, is there any chance I might borrow one of your eggs and give it back to you when the shop opens?’ I said, looking up at him hopefully.
‘Have a look in the box,’ he said, throwing his head at the egg box sitting on the worktop.
No! Empty. ‘There’s nothing in it.’
‘Sorry,’ he said, knowing full well he had got the last of them.
‘Thanks anyway,’ I said, feeling a bit foolish at getting caught out like that.
Right! I whirled around, seeing if there was any grub lying about. I can’t start the day on a empty stomach. I opened the kitchen cabinet press, seeing if there was anything worth eating. Bread! I’ll grab some of that, and plaster it with a bit of butter. Before Molly starts mooching in looking for her grub, and finds it all missing, I said to meself, whipping out the bread left sitting behind the glass panel of the kitchen cabinet. I buttered it, leaving it sitting on a plate, and grabbed the kettle to fill it. Then looked around for the teapot.
‘Tea’s made,’ he said. ‘You can have a cup of mine, if you like.’
‘Gawd! Yer very good! I don’t know what I would have done without you,’ I said. Not meaning a word of it. Watching him slide the eggs onto the plate, the smell making its way up me nostrils, tormenting me. I saw the bottle of milk sitting on top of the fridge and grabbed it, taking down a bowl and filling it with the last of the cornflakes. I rattled the box, hearing it empty. Oh, dear! Nothing inside. I had a look just to make sure. No! Definitely all gone! Somebody is going to go mad!
I grabbed a mug and poured meself a cup of tea, putting in plenty of milk and sugar, then making short work of the bread and slurping down the cornflakes. I didn’t bother me head saying a word to the aul fella and he didn’t bother me. The two of us just sat, busy concentrating ourselves eating the grub. I heard footsteps and jumped up, banging me dishes into the sink and rinsing them out rapidly and tried to make me way out the door just as Molly came in. She stood in the doorway, squinting around the kitchen with one eye open and her hair stood up like it had a mind of its own. She had her mouth hanging open, trying to make out what was happening.
‘I hope you did not touch my groceries!’ she roared, rushing over to the kitchen cabinet.
‘Oh, no, Molly! I never saw your stuff,’ I said, racing down to get me washbag and get to the bathroom before the ructions started.
I came flying out just as she headed out of the kitchen. ‘I told you not to touch my stuff!’ she screamed after me, flying meself into the bedroom. I dumped me washbag in the wardrobe and rushed to the dressing table to comb my hair in the mirror, pretending I didn’t think she was talking to me. ‘Did you hear what I said?’ she roared, rushing over at me.
‘Wha? What’s the matter with you, Molly? It’s too early in the morning to be listening to that kind of carry on,’ I said, making me face look confused and upset.
‘I’ll give you carry on!’ she screamed. ‘Just you wait until I speak to Missus Murphy. Now get away from that dressing table. I want to get ready.’
‘Hold yer horses, Molly. I was here first. Anyway, you don’t own it. Half of it is mine!’
‘That’s all my stuff on that dresser!’ she screamed, pushing me out of the way.
‘Fuck you, Molly. Big and fat as you are. Touch me again and I’ll have you plastered on that floor. Now why don’t you stop acting the fucking eejit. What age are yeh? Thirty?’
She was white as a sheet with the rage on her and at the insult of making her older then she was. I watched as her nostrils flared, and her eyes whipped around the dresser, taking in all her stuff, then back to me, her eyes turning in the back of her head with the torment in her. ‘I am twenty-seven!’ she roared. ‘You are only a slip of a thing. You better start showing me some respect, miss! I am in charge here. Now get out of my way, or I’ll have you fired on the spot!’
‘Yeah, you’re right, Molly,’ I said, taking in a big breath and letting it out through me nose. ‘I should have more respect for me elders. It’s not right for me to be talking to people of your age like you were a young one. I’m sorry about that,’ I said, sounding mournful, and rambling back down to me own side.
‘Are you being insulting again?’ she snapped, grabbing up her wash stuff and stopping halfway to the door, waiting to hear what I had to say.
‘No, definitely not, Molly. You’re the boss, and I think we got off to a bad start. I don’t think you like the idea of having to share the room. I’m sorry about that. I’ll stick to my end of the room, and try to keep out of your way. Can we start again?’
She stared at me, saying nothing. Then went out the door muttering to herself, but looking a bit more appeased. Jaysus! Enough is enough, Martha. She’s right! You’ll be out on your arse before you know what’s happened if you don’t stop tormenting her. Right! She’s got the message by now. Don’t mess with me.
‘Here! Come over here and lift them newspapers over to that shelf there.’ I looked around, seeing the empty shelf she’d pointed to, and whipped up a heavy pile, sending the half at the bottom of the pile landing on the floor in a heap, seeing all the pages spilling out. ‘Jesus! You’re less then useless!’ she roared, staring at the upended newspapers splattered all over the floor, and me standing there with another pile upended in me hands, after grabbing them up the wrong way. ‘Put them on the counter!’ she roared, gritting her teeth.
I slammed them down, happy to get rid of the weight, then stood looking at me hands covered in dirty black ink. I looked at me lovely jumper Clare gave me and it was smudged with the black. ‘Jaysus! I’m destroyed! Them papers are filthy!’ I roared.
‘Yes, you fool! You should have been more careful,’ she hissed, grabbing up the stuff off the floor.
‘Is anyone serving here?’ We both looked up over the counter, seeing an old man leaning across looking down at us. ‘Ten Carroll cigarettes, please,’ the man wheezed, sounding out of breath.
‘Will I—’
‘Yes, serve that customer!’ roared Molly.
‘Yeah, would youse please hurry up! I’m in a hurry and haven’t got all day to stand around listening to the likes of youse,’ he snorted, landing his sights on Molly and drawing in his breath with impatience.
‘Certainly, sir!’ I breathed. Whipping meself around to look at all the cigarettes. I couldn’t see them.
‘They’re right in front of you,’ he said, pointing his hand at the second shelf.
I whipped up the packet, putting them on the counter, saying, ‘Will that be all, mister?’, delighted with meself to be serving me first customer, even if he was grumpy. Well, not with me. It’s with that gobshite Molly, I thought to meself.
‘Yeah! Just gimme the change,’ he said, ‘and make it a few coppers. I need that for the phone.’
‘Certainly, half a crown you gave me,’ I said, smacking the big keys hanging out of the cash register, hearing it tinkle and fly open. Then I smacked it shut, landing the change on the counter, saying, ‘Thank you, call again.’
‘Not on yer nelly,’ he said, giving me a dirty look. ‘Youse left me standing here for at least ten minutes. It’s the likes a me that’s keeping youses in a job, yeh know!’
‘Oh, yer right there,’ I said. Shaking me head agreeing with him.
‘Will you ever get a move on and sort out them newspapers?’ Molly roared. Staring up from the floor at me. Getting herself all red in the face.
‘That man was complain—’
‘Never mind him!’ she roared. ‘The bread man will be in on top of us any minute, and so far you are more of a hindrance then a help.’
‘Ah, you get up off your knees, Molly, and let me do that,’ I said, hoping to put her in better form.
‘Stack them in their separate piles,’ she said. ‘Make sure you sort them out properly. I don’t want someone bringing them back complaining we gave the
m the wrong newspaper.’
‘God forbid I would do that,’ I said, sounding very pious.
‘And watch your language. Stop making a show of this establishment, with your filthy tongue.’
‘Excuse me!’ I roared, whirling around with me hands on me hips.
‘Don’t start again! I’m warning you!’ she snarled, sucking in her lips, looking like she wanted to make mincemeat out of me.
‘Right! But I don’t use bad language,’ I said quietly, looking hurt.
‘Then you should stop and listen to yourself,’ she moaned, making out she was a holy Mary.
Fuck! Any minute now I’m going to lose the rag if she keeps this up. I snorted, letting me breath out, making a big noise so she should know she was going too far.
‘How’re yeh, girls?’ I shot around from stacking the sliced bread on the shelves to see what was going on. ‘Do yeh have a nice box of chocolates?’ a fella with long hair past his ears, curling in a quiff, and hanging down over one eye, laughed. Swaggering his way into the shop and making for me.
‘What kind do you want?’ I said, smiling at him, delighted he wanted me to serve him.
‘I’ll get these,’ Molly said, raising her head from the milk crate and stacking the bottles in the fridge.
‘No! Yer all right. The young one will do me,’ he said, waving her away.
‘Do you want chocolates or not?’ she said, barking at him, holding her hands on her hips.
‘What’s a lovely young thing like you doing working in a kip like this?’ he said, waving his head around the shop, giving a dirty look to Molly.
