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

Page 28

by Martha Long


  ‘Yeah, OK,’ Mary said, swinging her legs out of the bed while I dragged Maria out of the single one.

  ‘Go on! You’ll be more comfortable sleeping in the big bed with Rosa.’ She dived in happily beside Rosa, who grabbed her, laughing. The two of them snuggled up happily, laughing and tittering. Delighted with themselves at getting each other and the big bed. Mary and me squeezed into the single bed, and found our own space.

  We had stopped coughing and shifting ourselves for more comfort, and were just dozing off when the fuckers next door started going mad. We listened as the gang of fellas chased and thumped each other. Throwing stuff and dragging the beds around, using them as a barricade to stop themselves getting caught. We listened, hoping it would stop. Then they got rowdier. The slaps and thumps were louder, and the screams of pain sounded like someone was being killed.

  ‘Jaysus! Why does someone not go in and tell them to quieten down?’ I huffed. Shouting at the wall, hoping they would hear me next door. ‘It must be three o’clock in the morning,’ I moaned, with nobody taking any notice of me.

  A lone bird woke up, and started squawking like mad, screaming at his pals to wake up. I lifted one heavy eyelid, seeing the night getting pushed out by the grey dawn of a new day. ‘Ah, Jaysus! Mammy! I’m banjacked. I’ll never get up in the morning,’ I croaked, feeling meself sinking down into a deep coma.

  ‘Right, Mary, I’m off. Are you sure you won’t change your mind and come with me for a ramble into town?’

  ‘No! Sure everything will be all shut up. It’s Sunday,’ she said, standing there in her work clothes, looking all washed out.

  ‘Ah, Mary! You should try getting out some time. This place would drive you mad, hanging around with them mad Italians day and night.’

  ‘No,’ she said, running her hands over her face then slamming them down by her side, making her eyes all red and her face even whiter. ‘You go on and enjoy yourself. You look smashing.’

  ‘Ah, thanks,’ I said, looking down at me lovely clean frock. And the smell of the washing powder off me lovely trench coat. It came out lovely when I washed it and hung it out to dry on the line in the back garden. I even got Rosa to iron it for me. She’s very good.

  ‘Do yeh like the shine on me patent shoes? I clean them in Pond’s Cold Cream! Don’t they come up lovely?’ I said, sticking out me foot for us to get a good look.

  ‘Yeah, but I thought that was supposed to be for your face,’ she laughed.

  ‘Yeah, but people always look down at your shoes after they’ve seen your face,’ I said. ‘That’s how they know if you have any taste or not.’

  ‘Hmm, I hadn’t thought about that,’ she said. Shaking her head thinking about it.

  ‘Right, I’m off.’

  ‘Don’t forget you’re back at work at five o’clock this evening.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve plenty of time. I’m just taking the bus into town, get a look in the shop windows. I might have a cup of coffee in Caffola’s. I love that place! Then back in time for work.’

  ‘OK, go on then or you’ll never get going.’

  ‘Right, bye!’ I flew out the door smack into Francesco, with Alfonso trailing behind him.

  ‘Eh, eh, looka this! The little Santa Marta is ready for the town,’ he roared, swinging his arms in the air and looking around at Touchy.

  ‘Where you goin?’ Touchy said. Looking me up and down, all dressed up himself. ‘You want to come for a drive in my sports car?’ he said. Flying ahead of me down the stairs in his black tight trousers with the little flare-outs at the end. Wearing black patent lace-up shoes, and a leather jacket with the collar pulled up. I got the whiff of aftershave lotion as he breezed past me.

  ‘Eh, Alfonso, I come too! We all go, eh? Why no?’

  ‘Fungolase!’ shouted Touchy, roaring in Italian at Francesco tearing down the stairs after him. I think ‘fungolase’, or whatever it is, must mean fuck off. ‘You want to come?’ he shouted at me, holding his hand out in the air, waving his car keys.

  ‘No, I don’t trust youse Italian fellas. You’re all too fast for my liking.’

  ‘Sì!’ shouted Francesco to me. ‘He eat girls for breakfast. He very fast.’

  ‘No me! I ham . . . how you say?’ he said, kissing his fingers to his lips, giving them a smack. ‘I ham beautiful,’ he said, lowering himself to the ground. Half-sitting on his hunkers. ‘Come with me. I show you the town.’

  ‘Nah,’ I said, wanting to go me own way.

  We all ended up outside the family kitchen. With the mamma shouting at Maria. Trying to tear her out of a short miniskirt. ‘Papa!’ screamed Maria, roaring for help and hanging onto the skirt for all she was worth. While the mamma tried to drag it off her, screaming and yanking, and blessing herself. Then she let go, burying her face in her hands. Moaning and trying to cry. She sniffed, giving a big sob, taking in huge sighs, sounding like her heart was broken. Her eyes rolled from the state of Maria in the miniskirt down to the lovely white frock she wouldn’t wear.

  ‘Gesù Cristo!’ she implored. Whispering up at the ceiling and crumpling the frock in her hand, wiping her face and blowing her nose in it. Then she slapped her chest, grabbing onto it, and started roaring at Maria again. ‘MAMMA MIA! My Bambina! She look like a . . . not a my bambina!’ she puffed, running out of words. This time I really could see a tear as she lifted her head, looking like one a them tortured saints with the eyes rolling in the back of her head. She lifted her eyes to heaven, holding up handfuls of the frock, beseeching and moaning. ‘Santa Maria! Give me patience! Give me back my baby! I beg you!’ she implored, tearing lumps outa the frock with heartbreak and frustration.

  Then the aul fella lost his patience. ‘Basta!’ shouted the papa. Trying to squeeze himself past the two of them, and escape out the door. The mamma thumped him on the arm and screamed at him in Italian. Pushing the frock at him, holding it out in a ball. Then pointed at what Maria was wearing. A short skirt up to her arse. Showing off her big fat legs, and a tight skinny top that showed nothing but her fat belly. The mamma sounded like she was crying and raging at the same time.

  He stopped and looked back at Maria, studying her, trying to take her in. Then he gave up and slapped his forehead, giving it a good smack with the open palm of his hand, and looked at the ground, saying nothing. The mamma ran out of words and stared at him with her mouth open, pointing her hand at the cut of Maria. Then slowly swung her head down, looking mournfully at the white frilly frock crumpled in her hand, and started wiping her nose with it again.

  ‘Jaysus! There’s murder going on!’ I muttered. Staring at the lot of them. ‘Where did you get the get-up from, Maria?’ I asked.

  ‘My friend at school bought it for me in the new Rave Boutique in Clerys. I saved my pocket money,’ she said, wiping her snots with the back of her hand. ‘Do you like it? Mamma wants me to wear that childish thing,’ she said, pointing at the white frilly communion-looking frock in the ma’s hand.

  ‘Eh . . .’ I tried to think, looking at how short her skirt was, nearly showing up to her knickers. ‘Eh, do you like it?’

  ‘Yeah, I look really groovy,’ she said happily, looking down at herself, not seeing what I’m seeing.

  ‘Ciao!’ shouted Touchy. ‘Come on! We go in my sports car,’ he said, yanking me behind him. ‘You will ave the experience of your life,’ he promised, blowing kisses with his hands. The mamma stared at me, then whipped her head at him, thinking there’s more misfortune coming her way.

  ‘No, you have to be a good girl if you want to marry a nice Italian boy!’ she shouted, waving her finger at me. Looking shocked at the idea of him wanting to take me for a drive.

  ‘I not asking to marry her!’ shouted Alfonso. Looking at me with his mouth curling. ‘I marry nice Italian girl when my mamma find one for me!’ he shouted. Laughing and throwing his head back at the mamma. I looked at him, wondering if he was simple, or just joking. His mammy’s looking for a wife for him? Nah, nobody’s that stupid.
r />   ‘Hey, come on!’ shouted Alfonso, waving his car keys at me from the door. ‘We will be back in time for work. Ciao!’ he shouted, waving at them all gaping after us.

  ‘OK,’ I said. ‘We can go out and do something nice,’ thinking the mamma was making me mind up for me. The cheek a her, telling me I can’t go out with an Italian fella. ‘Right, I’m coming,’ I said, heading after him out the door.

  ‘He wants to kiss you!’ shouted Maria, getting a slap in the gob from the mamma.

  ‘Don’t worry! Nobody’s getting near me,’ I said. Watching him screech up to the door in a little red car. It doesn’t look like a sports car to me, I thought, staring at the colour of it. Red! Red

  for danger! Better watch meself with this fella.

  I felt nervous getting into the car. This is me first time ever out with a fella. He revved the hell out of the engine, and before I could get the door shut he was off. Sending me flying back in me seat. ‘Take it easy!’

  ‘This car was made in Italy,’ he said, stroking back his greasy hair. ‘We likea the speed!’

  ‘I don’t,’ I said, seeing all the other cars getting left behind us.

  ‘This es nothin!’ he said, staring straight ahead at the road flying up to meet us. Then he slammed down the gears, the engine roared like an animal in terrible pain, and we flew. Me eyes rolled in the back of me head, and I grabbed the seat, holding on with me fists, and me feet shot up in the air. I tried to look out, seeing only a blur of houses flashing by me, and me life going with it.

  ‘Slow down! We’re going to be killed stone dead,’ I whined. Terrified to open me eyes in case it happened.

  ‘This is good, eh, my little poodle?’ he said, flicking his eyes over to me.

  ‘Ahhhh! Look at the road! Don’t be minding me! Stop the fucking car! Let me out!’

  ‘Relax! I ham goin to show you the good life,’ he purred, sounding like a kitten.

  ‘Where we goin?’ I screamed in a whisper. ‘Dear God, don’t lemme die. I’ll never have anything to do ever again with another Italian fella. I promise, God. Just let me live in one piece!’ I prayed like mad. Keeping me eyes shut.

  I heard the blast of a horn, and opened me eyes just in time to see me last hour on earth. ‘Ahhhh!’ A car was heading straight towards us. ‘We’re in the middle of the bleedin road,’ I moaned, terrified to scream. I could see the whites of drivers’ eyes as we flew past. Trying to get in front of them, as the car coming straight towards us blared his horn. ‘WE’RE DEAD!’ I jammed me face in me hands. Waiting for the crash. Ohh, I never made it past sixteen! I felt the car whip around, and me stomach lurched, with me eyes clamped shut, and me body froze solid. Waiting for the terrible bang.

  ‘Ha, ha! Irish drivers are like old women!’ he roared, enjoying himself no end. I opened me eyes, seeing we were leaving everything behind us. All I could see now was a long narrow road with bogs flashing past, and sheep nosing around with their heads buried in the grass, taking life easy. Fuck! Now we’re in the middle of nowhere!

  ‘Where are we now?’

  ‘In the mountains, cara mia,’ he moaned. Trying to sound like a big film star. Then he suddenly braked, switched off the engine and pulled on the handbrake. ‘Now we ave no one to disturb us,’ he said. Looking at me for a split second before flinging himself on top of me, and grabbing something at the side of my seat. The pair of us went flying back, with him plastered on top of me.

  ‘Help!’ I couldn’t get me breath with the shock.

  ‘Oh, you are so beautiful, so fresh, so . . . Hmm, you smell lovely,’ he moaned. Trying to eat me neck.

  ‘Fuck off! Geroffa me!’ I roared. Trying to peel meself from under him. ‘I can’t breathe!’

  ‘No, it is the same for me,’ he muttered, eating his way up around me face.

  ‘Stop! Wait!’ I shouted.

  ‘What? What is wrong?’ he said, lifting his head and looking at me, letting his hands stay on me hips.

  ‘I don’t want this!’

  ‘Why? I ham great lover.’

  ‘No, I don’t care.’

  ‘Yes, you will love me.’ He grabbed me again. Spreading himself all over me like a rash. ‘Give me a kiss,’ he mumbled, trying to get his greasy mouth on me lips, licking the face off me.

  ‘Are you going to stop or not?’ I shouted from under him, managing to get me head up sideways for air.

  ‘Ooh, you are too beautiful,’ he moaned, grabbing his hand under me skirt, trying to work his way up to me knickers.

  I grabbed his hand, clamping down on it, and said, making me voice go quiet, ‘Alfonso, let me up for a minute.’

  ‘No, we ave not much time to waste. You lie back an enjoy. This is good.’ Then he was grabbing me chest.

  Right! Fuck this! I could feel a rage flying up through me. ‘Alfonso,’ I said quietly.

  ‘What?’ he said, lifting his head to look at me.

  ‘So, you won’t stop even though I want you to?’

  ‘Stop? We aven’t even started!’ he roared. Burying his head in me neck, snorting his way around to me lips again.

  ‘Fuck! I’ve had enough of this,’ I snorted to meself. ‘Wait! Let me get me shoes off,’ I puffed, trying to get me head up again for air.

  ‘Why?’ He leaped up, lifting his head up to stare at me in annoyance. He’s not going to stop, I thought. Seeing the black eyes turn red, to match his beetroot face from all the excitement he was working himself up to. ‘OK! You want to take your clothes off?’ he said, leaping up from me and slamming himself down on his own seat and ripping off his leather jacket.

  ‘I need air,’ I said, opening the door, readying to spring meself out. Seeing him in the same instant reach across to shut it.

  ‘No, you don’t,’ he muttered, sounding annoyed.

  ‘Look, Alfonso.’ He looked at me for a split second, seeing my hand come at him with two fingers pointed like arrows, sailing through the air, straight for his eyes.

  ‘Ahhhh!’ he screamed, grabbing his face, holding his eyes and twisting his head, trying to see and stop the pain. I could still feel his eyeballs shaking like jelly in me fingers. He lashed out, sending me a cracking smack on the side of me head, letting me see stars. I brought up me fist and smacked him under the chin, hearing the crunch of his jaw and the snap of his teeth.

  ‘AHHHH!’ he roared, cursing in Italian. Then he shot out of the car. Moaning and whining, reeling around, not knowing what hit him. I leaped out, screaming. The rage tearing itself around me body, wanting to kill him.

  ‘You bastard! You think you can treat me like dirt! Why? Because I am only a girl and you are a man? You think because you are stronger than me it gives you the right to think you can piss on me if you want?’

  He lifted his head, looking at me. I could see blood dribbling down his chin. He spat out a tooth, hanging out of his mouth on a string of blood. ‘I will kill you!’ he screamed, punching his fist at me and wiping his mouth. ‘You will be buried in these mountains! You are loco!’ he roared, stabbing his head with his finger.

  ‘FUCK YOU, greasy Italian bastard! I will beat the shite outa yeh, if you lay another hand on me. Stupid skinny little runt had the cheek to think you could get the better of me!’

  ‘I kill you,’ he warned, waving his arm at me and looking at the blood on his hand. Trying to check how many teeth got knocked out.

  ‘THAT’S IT!’ I screamed, jumping up and down, with the rage nearly suffocating me. Seeing he still hadn’t got the message that he was not going to best me. I whipped me head all around, looking for something to hurt him. Then me eyes lit on his car. I dived over and jumped in, wrestling off the hand brake, then leaped out and gave it a push. It started to roll, picking up speed, weaving its way towards the edge. Alfonso was still poking at his mouth, trying to find more loose teeth.

  ALFONSO! THE CAR’S GONE WALKIES!’ I shouted.

  He whirled his head in my direction, just in time to see the car skating past him. It took him a split s
econd to take it in. ‘MAMMA MIA!’ he screamed, sounding like he was just being tortured. He took off so fast he couldn’t get moving. His leather shoes skidded on the stony road, then he lifted his legs and took off. Flying like the hammers of hell. Skidding along the side of the car, trying to stop it then throwing himself in front. Slipping and sliding, holding it back from toppling down into the field.

  Fuck! If he falls down over the edge, the car will land on top of him and he’ll be killed. I raced down and dived in, grabbing a hold of the handbrake and tore it up with me two hands, feeling the car steady, and stopped it from going over the edge. Then everything suddenly went quiet. I rested meself on the steering wheel, hearing the sound of me heavy breathing, and feeling me heart flying like mad in me chest.

  ‘Oh, my God!’ I muttered, looking slowly around, seeing the desolation of the emptiness all around me. The white frost sitting on the empty bogs with the sheep now scattered in the distance and the sound of their bleating coming from far away. Then I landed me head on Alfonso. Seeing the whites of his eyes match the colour of his face. He was afraid to let go.

  ‘I ham in trouble,’ he moaned. His whole body shaking with the fright and his eyes locked on mine, then letting them peel slowly down the side of him. Still not trusting to let the car go. ‘How do I get out of this?’ he whispered, looking up at me. ‘I need a push.’

  ‘Right, we can wait for someone to come along and give us a push,’ I said, slamming the door shut, feeling it rock and him slam himself against it, getting an awful fright. Then settling meself back, sitting for more comfort in the driver seat, and looking down through the window at him.

  ‘We? Us? No, you can walk,’ he snarled, with the rage whipping him up again. Forgetting himself still gripped tight under the car. ‘I ham avin nothin more to do with loco Irish!’

  ‘Fuck you! Then get yourself out of this!’ I screamed, looking again to see what else I could do to him. I grabbed at the keys in the ignition, wriggling them like mad to get them out. Then leaped from the car, shouting. ‘Hey, do you need these?’ I said, swinging them in the air.

 

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