by Martha Long
I dropped me washbag on the landing and crept in quietly. Yeah, his work clothes. I grabbed the lot up in one go, seeing his shoes sitting under the bed and grabbed them, too. I crept off, holding me breath, and me face tight, and took off out the door on me tippy toes. What will I do with them? Yeah, the bathroom. I dumped them in the bath, smothering them in water until they were soaking to nothing. Then grabbed up the basin sitting on the shelf at the end of the bath and dumped them in it. Right, where will I hide them? Under the stuff in my bedroom. Well, Rosa’s bedroom. Hee, hee! This is great!
I opened the wardrobe and pulled everything to one side and dumped the lot back over the basin. Then flew for me washbag and dived for me clothes. I better wear me work clothes. I’m definitely not ruining me one and only set of good clothes for nothing. I must have worn the soles of me good patent shoes with all that walking yesterday. Jaysus! I better make me escape before they wake up.
I put on me old coat and picked up me case and handbag and took off out the door and down the stairs. ‘So, you are ready to go?’ Fatty, the aul one said, coming out of the kitchen and wiping her hands on a tea towel. Lifting her head back and landing her fat arms on her hips, with her legs planted, watching to make sure I got the message.
‘Yes, I’m going now. But first I want me wages.’
‘You only worked one day. Saturday. Here is your money,’ she said, diving her hand into her massive blue frock with the white dots and coming up with two half crowns. ‘Here, take it. One day’s work.’
‘Thanks, missus. Goodbye,’ I said, satisfied with the five shillings and making off out the side door.
I went out into the early morning, seeing the grey-blue light. It sounded quiet, with cars in the distance and the odd person walking down to get their shopping. Me breath hung around me face with the cold. Fuck! Winter. January. At least it’s dry.
Right, I better get the bus into town and wait for the evening paper. Please, God, help me to find another job.
I stood in O’Connell Street, looking up and down the length of it. It’s still too early to do anything. The few people hurrying through the streets kept their heads down, stuck inside their coats, with their scarves tied tight on their heads. Rushing to get what they had to do and get in out of the cold.
What will I do? It’s bloody freezing. I started walking, carrying me case in one hand and me handbag held tight in my right hand, and headed off down towards the Parnell Street end. All the shops had their lights on, and very few had people in them. I stopped outside the Carlton picture house and looked up at the big poster, showing what was coming next week. The Sound of Music. I stared up at the woman flying over the mountain, her feet barely touching the ground. She had short straight fair hair, and her eyes were alive with excitement. A big laugh was spread all over her face and she was dragging a load of happy laughing children behind her. That looks good. I’d like to see that. It’s a pity I’m not settled in a job yet! Then I’d know what’s happening, and I could make me plans to go to the pictures.
Jaysus! I don’t know where I am at the minute. Everyone has somewhere to go. How the hell do they do it? How do you get to be settled in your own home, like everyone else? Do I have to have a husband first? No, God, no! I don’t want that. There must be some way I can get a job that will pay me enough to get meself me own place! No, I’m too young. You have to be older, get plenty of experience working first, get trained, then you work your way up. Jesus! It all takes time. Everything comes down to time.
Or does it? All I need is the money. Ah, how would you get that, Martha? I could go to England. Look for a job in a pub. No, keep away from them. That’s only bad news. What, then? Jaysus! I’ll just have to get a job and hold onto it. I can go to night school. Learn to be a secretary. Yeah, that’s definitely me best bet.
Right, where will I head off to now? What about Caffola’s? That’s me favourite spot. I haunt that place. Yeah, that’s because it always makes me feel welcome. I can sit and look out at the world going by. Anyway, I always wanted to be able to go into these places. I promised meself as a child when I used to stand outside looking in. Yeah. I know now what it is. It makes me feel I’m just like everyone else, respectable. I have money in me pocket to go in. I’m not a pauper! No, I’m definitely not that any more. I’m clean and dressed respectable; well, even though me clothes are old, I thought. Looking down at me old green coat with the greasy sleeves that someone used to wear once when they were going to the secondary school. I wonder who that was and how did they get on? They’re probably in a great job now, and working in London. That’s where everyone goes. Yeah. I even have money in me pocket. So I’m really well-off. No, life is still a bowl of cherries! It just depends on how you look at it.
I picked up me suitcase and took off happily for me favourite haunting place. Seeing the lights and the red tables with the cushy benches behind your back. I like to listen to the waitresses talking. Complaining and giving out about everything, even about the customers, and having no money. Then cheering up at the mention of what they had to look forward to. I like that. It makes me feel like one a them. That we all have the same worries.
No, nothing in the damn paper. Jaysus! What am I going to do? The time is moving on. I have nowhere to stay, never mind no job! Fuck this! I better run over to the GPO and ring Sister Eleanor.
I dumped the newspaper on the table and grabbed up me stuff, making out the door, and headed across the road into the post office. ‘Right, here we are,’ I puffed, getting outa breath. I could smell the ink, and dust and chalk, and especially the stale smell of people that lay around the building from years of nobody bothering to open the windows and give the place a good airing, or even a good cleaning. Still and all, I like this place. The world and his wife come in here. With people wanting to make important phone calls home to the country, or Dubliners phoning relations in England to tell them they have the money saved and they are coming over. Yeah, you can see lots of people with suitcases getting lost around the place. So I don’t stand out here. Right, better get moving.
I checked to see I had enough pennies for the phone. Yeah, I have enough coppers. I made me way along the rows of phone boxes, looking for an empty one. Here we are. The second-last one. I pulled open the door and put me suitcase down on the floor, shutting the door after me to keep out the noise. Right, I don’t need the phone book. I know the number off by heart. I dropped in the tuppence and dialled the number. It’s ringing! I held me breath, hearing me heart flying in me chest. Dear God, grant that she won’t eat the head off me and will be able to get me a job.
‘Good afternoon. Holy Redeemer Convent.’ Me eye flew to the A button and I pressed it.
‘Hello, could I speak to Sister Eleanor, please?’
‘Who is this?’
‘Martha, sister. Martha Long.’
‘Oh, just a minute, Martha. I think she’s in the recreation room.’ I held me breath, afraid to breathe with the nerves. Dear God, please make sure she has a job for me. Maybe I should have gone down. It might have been better that way. Face to face. Then if she hasn’t a job, she might let me stay for a few nights. Hmm, pity I gave me name to the nun. Then I could have hung up the phone once I knew she was there. Ah, that’s a pity. I never think before I act. I could have galloped down to see her. Making meself look desperate enough so she’d have to let me stay. Ah well, it’s too late now.
‘Hello, Martha. What is it?’ she said, sounding worn out.
‘Eh, how are yeh, Sister Eleanor? It’s me, Martha.’
‘Yes, Martha, I know that. Look, I hope you’re not ringing to tell me you have gone and lost your job! This is the . . . how many jobs have you had since you left here?’
‘Whadeyehmean? I haven’t lost any jobs!’ I roared, getting annoyed because she was blaming me in the wrong.
‘Good girl, because I can tell you now, I can’t be still running after you and letting you waltz back here when it suits you,’ she puffed.
‘Eh,
I didn’t mean, eh . . .’ I was trying to think of the best way of putting it. ‘No, I’m definitely not asking to come back,’ I said, letting out me breath.
‘Good girl. I’m delighted to hear you are doing very well. Now I must hurry, Martha. I can hear sister calling me to go out on the cloister walk to get my prayers,’ she whispered, sounding delighted to get rid of me so fast.
‘No, wait! Just a minute, sister. Don’t go. I have something important to ask you.’ I could hear her catch her breath.
‘Yes, what is it?’
‘Eh, sister . . .’
‘Quickly, Martha. Say what it is you want!’
‘I lost me job, sister,’ I whispered, feeling ashamed.
‘WHAT? But you just told me this minute—’
‘Yes, sister! You misunderstood me. What I wanted to say was I’m not asking to come back. I just need another job. I’ve been looking now since early morning. This is only Monday. So there won’t be any more new jobs advertised until Wednesday. There’s nothing in the papers, sister! I need to get a job, otherwise I have nowhere to go,’ I whispered, then pulled the phone away from me ear. There was a silence. I waited, then put the phone to me ear again.
‘Well, really!’ she roared, losing the rag when it hit her what I just said. ‘You are so irresponsible! I told you, Martha. You are not rushing to me every time you feel free to lose your job. No, no, I am not having it!’
‘But, sister, please!’
‘No, Martha! There has to be an end to it.’
‘Right, I’m coming down there and I’m going to sit on the convent doorstep and freeze to death,’ I snorted, losing me rag at the unfairness of her. She lets everyone else back when they lose their jobs, why not me? I’m thinking, the rage boiling up in me.
‘I’m going to hang up this minute. You are trying to browbeat me into giving in to your demands,’ she snorted, looking for an excuse to hang up the phone on me.
‘No, don’t go, Sister Eleanor. Please! I’m sorry for speaking to you like that. This is the last time I’ll ever ask you for anything. I promise,’ I said, feeling desperate to hang onto her.
‘Right. I shall have to go and see if there are any calls in looking for a girl.’
‘Oh, thanks, sister! I really appreciate it!’
‘This is the last time now, Martha!’
‘Yes, sister,’ I said, feeling down because she was annoyed with me, and raging because she has her pets, and I’m not one of them.
‘Ring me back in an hour. I will have to go and get my prayers first. Then I will check that out for you. Goodbye now.’
‘Bye, sister!’ I roared, before she hung up the phone.
I opened the phone box for air, and looked at the long line of boxes with people shouting down the phones, and wondered if they had big worries too. Jaysus! I felt let down and really fed up. It pains me when I feel I can’t go to her when I have trouble. It would be lovely if she was nice to me. I just want her to care about me. But she’s always in a hurry, and has no time for me.
I stood with me back resting against the windowsill, not bothering to go out into the street again. I didn’t feel like putting one foot in front of the other. I lit up a cigarette and glared at a fella making for my phone box. ‘Excuse me, that’s engaged! I’m waiting for a phone call.’
‘I don’t see anybody in here, do you?’ he asked me, looking in the phone box, and whipping his big red-neck culchie head back at me.
‘Ger outa me way,’ I said, pushing him back, and sending him staggering, after taking him unawares. I rushed back into the box, banging me case in behind me, and slammed the door shut in his face. Taking a big suck on me cigarette, and stared out at him. Watching him staring back in at me with his mouth gaping open. Trying to think. Wanting to say something really smart that would annoy me, and he would be able to get his own back.
‘Yar only a thick jackeen!’ he roared, shaking his head and moving off. I opened the door, feeling meself suffocating with the smoke in the little box, and stared out after him. Watching him walking up and down the row, looking for an empty phone box. Then my phone rang.
‘Hello,’ a man’s voice whispered. I listened, wondering what was going on. ‘What colour knickers are yeh wearin?’ the voice whispered. I was shocked, then wondered how he got this number.
‘Green!’ I shouted. ‘What colour are yours, yeh fuckin eejit?’ Then it dawned on me. I left the phone down on top of the phone book, and opened the door quietly, shutting it, leaving me suitcase inside. Then I looked down the row of phone boxes, spying the culchie with the big red neck talking with his back bent, definitely looking very shifty. ‘That fella’s up to no good,’ I muttered to meself. I wandered over quietly and listened outside the door.
‘Are yeh dere? Hello,’ he whispered, nearly resting his head on the phone book. ‘Would yeh like a good ride?’ Me face dropped, listening to every word. I could see his red face, with the mouth hanging open, and watch him trying to get his breath. He was breathing like someone with a chest complaint.
‘Yeh fucking bastard!’ I shot at the door, whipping it open, shouting, ‘HELP! This man is molesting me!’
‘WHA?’ He dropped the phone, whipping his head around at me, with the eyes staring out of his head.
‘Yes, you! Yeh dirty aul bastard! I have the coppers waiting outside the door for yeh. I’m going to get you arrested!’ I roared, pointing me finger at him as people put their heads out of the boxes to see what all the fuss was about.
‘Yeh mad fuckin bitch! I never laid a hand on yeh,’ he moaned, pushing past me to fly out the door. I grabbed a hold of his heavy overcoat. Hanging onto it, not wanting to let him off that easy.
‘Get the man in charge!’ I shouted, ‘You were asking me what colour knickers I’m wearing and saying all the dirty disgusting things yeh were going to do to me.’
‘Gesh away outa dat!’ he screamed. Tugging like mad at the coat, trying to get free a me. ‘Help!’ he screamed, looking and seeing all the people staring. I could see he was nearly crying with the shock. ‘Let go a me coash outa dat!’ he screamed, sounding like a woman singing opera.
I was dragging him and he was pulling. Then, finally, he managed to tear himself loose from me fists, tearing the end of his coat outa me hand, and flew for all he was worth out the door. I whipped me head from staring after him, disappearing like greased lightning. Then me eyes peeled back to everyone looking at me. ‘Yer man,’ I said. ‘The cheek a him. Trying teh molest me, he was,’ I puffed. Blowing out me cheeks. They stared for a few minutes, trying to make this out, with their eyeballs pinned on me, then stared at the door where your man had just shot out, leaving a draught behind him. Then they saw nothing else was happening and everyone disappeared back to their own business.
‘Right!’ I muttered to meself, heading back to me phone box and waiting for the phone call. It will be a long time before he tries anything like that again, I thought, laughing to meself. Bleedin hell! I’ve had enough of dirty aul men trying to molest me! Well, even if it was only on the phone! I wasn’t expecting that.
The phone rang just as I lit up another cigarette. Me nerves are gone with all this waiting, I thought, feeling meself shiver with worry as I picked up the phone. ‘Hello, Martha, is that you?’
‘Yes, sister, I’m here.’
‘Wait until I tell you. I have a lady looking for a girl to do housework and mind a ten-year-old girl. She wants someone to live-in. I have just given her a ring this very minute and you can start right away. Now,’ she said happily, whispering in her quiet voice, ‘have you a pen handy?’
‘Yes, yes, sister, I have. Hang on a minute, I just want to get it out of my handbag.’ I dropped the phone and wrestled with me handbag, trying to open the catch, and dipped to the bottom, bringing up me Biro. Paper! Where’s me little notebook I bought in Woolworths? I opened the pocket in the middle and took out me little red notebook. ‘Right, I’m ready, sister. Just give me the address, yeah?’
&nb
sp; ‘It’s thirty-two Millers Field, just off Old Court Road.’
‘Grand! I have that. It’s just up off the Old Court Road. Is that what you just said?’
‘Yes! You can start straight away. She’s a national school teacher and she finishes school at three o’clock. She collects the child herself. They are in the same school. So make your way out there straight away. Now, remember, Martha, keep out of trouble! I don’t want you to lose this job. If you do . . . be it on your own head. I can’t help you.’
‘Oh no, sister! This is it. No more trouble for me. I’m definitely going to last in this job. That I can promise you. Have no fear about that, sister!’
‘Good girl. Go, now. The lady’s name is Mrs Purcell.’
‘OK, sister. Thank you very, very much. I’m delighted to get a job at last, before the day ended. Goodbye now, sister, and thanks again.’
‘Goodbye, Martha. Be a good girl.’
‘Yes, sister. I’m off.’ Then I put the phone down and grabbed me suitcase, flying meself out the door. I could feel me heart going like the clappers. Oh, thank you, God, for being so good to me. I’m so happy at getting a job at last. The best bit as well is Sister Eleanor was very nice to me. Maybe she does like me after all. Right, I better make for the bus.
I shot across the road, making for the side of Clerys. Heading meself down to the Pro-Cathedral, to hurry in and light a penny candle and say a little prayer to God for being so good to me. As I neared the church, I passed a woman sitting on the freezing cold ground at the side of the church. She was wrapped up in a red plaid shawl with a little baby snuggled inside. God help that poor woman. She’s going to get pneumonia sitting on that cold ground. She’s probably been sitting there all day and has nothing to show for it.
