Ma, He Sold Me for a Few Cigarettes

by Martha Long

  When we came onta a landin, we could hear shoutin an screamin. It was comin from downstairs, so I tried te hurry. We nearly fell backwards, but I landed against the banisters, an I was still holdin onta the babby. When I got on te the next landin, me ma was screamin at the two neighbours she’d been friendly wit. One of the women looked at me an shouted, ‘Go on, ye whore! There’s yer bastards now!’ An before she could finish, me ma lunged at her, grabbin her hair. The other woman joined in, an they started tearin me ma te pieces. I screamed an tried te drag the babby away. But they toppled over us, sendin the babby flyin te bang his head on the concrete floor an stampin on him. Me forehead hit the ground, an I was kicked in the head an me back. An me nose started te pump blood. I was tryin te reach out fer the babby, but everythin was spinnin. The babby was tryin te reach his hands in the air te turn himself, an he was blue an he was makin gaspin sounds.

  The women were still draggin me ma along the landin by the hair an punchin her. I crawled over te the babby, an me nose was pumpin blood away like a tap. Everythin was still like a merry-go-round. Blood was pourin onta him, but I grabbed him an started te slap his back te get him te breathe properly, an I was chokin meself in me blood. People came runnin when a man came down the stairs an shouted, ‘There’s kids hurted here! Help me, someone!’ An then doors opened an a woman rushed te pick up the babby, who was white as a sheet an gone very quiet. He was covered, soakin wet, in me blood. They carried us inside the room while the man went te break up the fight.

  We were taken by the ambulance te hospital. An I was put in a ward wit a load of other childre. Me ma didn’t come te the ward wit me, an they didn’t put the babby in wit me. I don’t know wha happened te him, an I’m afraid te ask, cos the nurse is very strict. We have te lie very still in the bed under the white sheets an black blankets, cos the nurse doesn’t like ye te crease the sheets. An we have te keep our arms by our sides, under the blankets. A little child in a cot has knocked down the bars, an he’s whimperin wit fright, cos he can’t get the bars up. He doesn’t look three years old te me. The nurse comes stampin down the ward, grabs him outa the cot an swings him aroun the ward by his arm. She says she’ll teach him a lesson. An she’s screamin an hittin him somethin terrible. I don’t move or breathe; I’m afraid of me life.

  We can only have visitors on a Sunday from three p.m. te four p.m. The doors open, an the visitors rush in. I’m lookin te see if me mammy’s comin. But she’s not here yet. The little girl beside me in the next bed has her mammy an daddy an her granny. An they’re brushin her lovely long curly hair, an fixin her, an pettin her, an makin sure her pillows are fluffed up. An they keep askin her is she all right. But she’s afraid te say anythin, an just buries her head in her mammy’s chest an keeps whisperin, ‘Take me home, Mammy! Take me home.’

  The mammies are all busy, emptyin shoppin bags filled wit Lucozade, an biscuits, an sweets, an washcloths, an towels, an clean nightdresses, an pyjamas fer the boys. I keep watchin the door, but there’s no sign of me mammy, an I feel me heart begin te empty. She’s not comin, an it’s nearly all over. Then the nurse crashes in, wavin the big bell, an announces te everyone, ‘Visitors’ time up,’ an then the childre panic, grabbin their mammies. An some leap inta their arms an won’t let go. ‘No, Mammy! Take me wit ye. Don’t leave me here,’ an they flood inta tears. But the mammies have te pull themselves away. The nurse arrives te stand guard at the door, an there’s sudden quiet. As soon as the last mammy leaves, the doors are shut, an the nurse gets very annoyed. She stamps from locker te locker, takin the childre’s sweets an tellin them they’re very greedy, an they’re not goin te eat them all. She gets te me, an I’ve no sweets. I’m very lucky, cos she didn’t roar at me. An then she says they have te be shared. So she put an orange in my locker an a box a Smarties. She left everyone wit a bit a somethin an took away the rest.

  12

  I was sittin at the table wit the other childre finishin me dinner. It was lovely! Mashed white potatoes an mincemeat an turnip. I wanted te lick the plate, but the other childre didn’t do tha, an I didn’t want te make a show a meself. But I didn’t like the custard. It was all lumpy an me stomach was turnin. So I was tryin te get at the jelly underneath an wonderin what I’d do wit the custard, cos we’re supposed te eat it all up. Suddenly the door opened an the nurse appeared wit me mammy. She had a brown package under her arm, an the nurse said te me, ‘Your mammy’s here to take you home.’

  Me heart jumped, an I was delighted. She put me inta a long brown frock. It was a bit big fer me, but it felt lovely an warm. I was well covered, an it had sleeves, an the shoes were grand. Then me ma shoved tilet paper down the toes te stop them fallin offa me. An the coat was green wit a bit a fur aroun the collar an sleeves. I even had a vest an thermal navy-blue knickers! But I had te hold them up, cos they were a bit big fer me, an the elastic in the legs was gone. The only thing I need now is a pair a socks an a hat, cos it’s rainin out. But me ma said we were goin on the bus. I asked her where we were goin an where was the babby, but she just said, ‘Stop askin questions an moidierin me!’ an then she went back te herself. So I kept quiet, cos I didn’t want te annoy her.

  When we got off the bus, we walked along a road wit a high wall an huge trees. An then we came te big gates, an me ma went in. We went up a dark road wit big trees keenin in the wind. I didn’t like the look of it, an I was afraid. I held onta me ma’s hand tight an hoped nothin was goin te happen. ‘Ma! Where are we goin?’ I croaked, but she didn’t answer me.

  When we rounded the bend, I could see a big house wit a chapel, an there was white pebble stones all round the front, an it made crunchin noises when we walked on it. Me ma pressed the big roundy bell, an a woman wit a hairy chin an a man’s haircut opened the door. Me ma said the Reverend Mother was expectin her, an the woman brought us in an told us te sit down. She left us in the hall, an me ma sat down on a wooden priest’s chair tha kept creakin when she moved. Tha was the only sound we heard. The hall smelled of polish, an ye could see yer face in the shiny black an white floor tiles. There was a big statue of Our Lady holdin the Babby Jesus standin up on a wooden stand, an holy pictures on the walls.

  The nun appeared, an me ma jumped up. Me ma smiled at her an said, ‘This is Martha, Sister,’ an the nun said, ‘Good! Follow me.’ We went inta a parlour, an there was a tray wit a pot a tea, an a plate wit ham an tomatoes, an another plate wit bread an butter. Then the nun left an said she’d be back later when we’d finished eatin. Me ma said, ‘Eat tha up,’ an I wondered why it was only fer me.

  ‘You eat it, Ma! I don’t want it.’ I was feelin sick. ‘Wha’s happenin, Ma? Why’re we here?’

  ‘Go on! Eat it up before the nun gets back.’

  I tried te eat, but I kept lookin at me ma’s face. Her eyes were starin at me, an then she’d look te the door waitin fer the nun te come back. I knew me ma was gone from me. An there was nothin te do but wait. The nun came in an took me hand, an we walked off down the passage. Then the nun stopped an said te me, ‘Wave goodbye to your mammy!’ But I didn’t look aroun, an I didn’t say anythin. I just walked on, holdin on te the nun’s hand. An the life went outa me, an I just shut down. Cos now I was empty.

  The nun brought me inta a tiled room wit a big bath tha looked the size of a barge. There were pipes along the walls an sinks. She put the plug in the bath an turned on the tap, an then she told me te take off me clothes. I looked at the steamin water pourin inta the bath, an I got an awful fright. I knew I was goin te drown in tha.

  ‘Come along, now. Hurry up, get undressed, I haven’t all day,’ the nun said. I was shakin an tryin te get me clothes off, an she went out. I was in me skin, lookin at the water in the bath an shiverin an wonderin how I was supposed te get in when the door opened an the nun came back wit two childre an a big bar a scrubbin soap an a washcloth an towel.

  ‘This is Josephine and Rose, and they’re going to give you your bath, Martha. Now, these are very nice girls, and you be good for them,�
� the nun said te me.

  I had me doubts when I looked at them. One looked a bit older than me, about seven, an the other one looked younger than me, about five. As soon as the nun left, I started te cry. But Josephine told me I would be grand an started te cover me in soap. But I pushed away the cloth, an Josephine said, ‘It won’t hurt you. Rose always gets her hair washed, an she loves it. She never cries, do you, Rosie?’ An Rosie nodded her head up an down an agreed wit everythin Josephine said. An they kept smilin, an Josephine kept tellin me I was great altogether. An then we had another long talk, an a fight, before I lay back an let Josephine pour the jug a water over me head te rinse it. An then it was all over. They dressed me in a warm woolly vest, an thick warm knickers, an long brown woolly socks, an a lovely warm frock wit an apron tha went over me head an covered me back. An then the nun trimmed me hair an gave me a fringe, an looked back te admire me. I smelled lovely, an I was gorgeous an warm an squeaky clean, an me brown leather shoes fitted me.

  I bounced along when I walked wit the nun out te the yard, an she left me there an shut the door behind me. I was left lookin at a high wall wit a concrete ground an a load a childre runnin aroun chasin each other. I stood rooted te the spot, afraid te move. I kept lookin at the height of the wall an the other childre playin an laughin. An I wondered would I ever be like them. Could I laugh an play wit them an everythin be all right? An me heart’d stop painin me.

  A big young one rang the bell, an we lined up an marched outa the yard an down long passages te a big room wit long tables an benches. We sat down an drank mugs a cocoa an ate chunks a bread. Then we said prayers an left the room. We marched again, down more passages an up onta landins, an there were more stairs an statues everywhere. An then we arrived in a very long room filled wit beds. It was a bit like the hospital ward, only the beds were pushed together more. They said it was six o’clock, an the sun was shinin in the winda. The nun put me in a big warm nightdress an inta an iron bed wit white sheets an black blankets, just like the hospital. But I knew, in the hospital, I was goin te get out sometime. Here, I was goin te be locked up fer ever. I pined fer me mammy, an I worried about wha happened te me babby brother. I missed him wrappin himself aroun me neck an me kissin him an squeezin him. An I knew he’d be missin me an me mammy, too.

  The bell woke me up. The nun was marchin up an down the dormitory – tha’s where we sleep – bangin the big bell up an down. It’s the middle of the night – well, it must be, cos it’s still pitch black outside! The big ones come in te help us get dressed an make our beds. Mine is wet as usual. But so is a lot a other childre’s. The big ones quickly strip the beds an throw the wet sheets in a mound in the middle of the floor. Then they put new sheets on the beds an make them up. Then we’re all dressed an go down te the chapel an pray. All the dormitories come together on the chapel passage. The biggest are up the front of the line. An we’re nearly the last lot te go inta the chapel, wit the big young ones herdin us in an keepin order, an the nun leadin the way.

  There was a big fight outside the refectory at tea time last night. The nuns were up gettin their prayers, an the big ones were left in charge. The big ones can be very vicious. If a nun goes fer a big one who’s been lazy or sloppy or didn’t polish a floor properly, then the big one can take her spite out on a little one an punch an kick her an pull the hair outa her fer maybe wettin the bed or maybe she didn’t like the way the little one looked at her. If ye have a big sister te look out fer ye, then maybe ye’ll be all right.

  These two big ones were tearin each other up an down the passage cos one of them hit a little young one te get back at the big one who loves mindin the little one. She’s her favourite, an she won’t let anyone near her. The two of them are left standin outside the refectory this mornin, an they got no breakfast.

  Rosie an Josie an me are the bestest of friends. They think I’m great, an I think they’re great. We always hold hands, an we play chasin, an we talk, an they always ask me what it’s like on the outside. I tell them they’re not missin much. If I could have me babby wit me, an me mammy could stay here – sure, wha more could a body want? But they tell me she’d have te be a nun te get in here or a child, an then I’m back te square one.

  Rosie doesn’t remember comin here – she was only a babby. But Josie remembers comin in a Black Maria from the court, an her mammy tellin her she was goin te England te find a place, an she’d be back te take her. Her mammy was cryin when they took her away. She was three at the time. Now she’s seven, an she doesn’t think her mammy will be back. I said tha me ma put me away lots of times when I was younger, even when I was a babby, but she always takes me back. If we be patient an just wait, they’ll come an get us. Then Rosie smiled an said, ‘Do you think my mammy might be famous?’

  An I thought about this an then it hit me. ‘Yeah! They’re fillum stars! They’re gone off te America, an when they come back te collect ye’s, they’ll stand up in the parlour wit all the nuns talkin te them, an smilin, an admirin their lovely fur coats, an lookin at their high heels, an smellin their perfume. An the mammies will say, “I’ve come te collect my childre! Me big car’s outside,” an all the nuns will rush te the winda te get a look. An a man wearin a lovely suit an a big cigar in his mouth will wave at them. An then Josie’s mammy will say, “He is me new husband.” An Rosie’s mammy will say, “My new husband is a very important man. Too important te meet youse nuns. An Josie’s mammy here is givin me a lift te take me back te me airplane where I’m goin te America an takin me Rosie wit me, so I am.”’

  Then the door of our playroom opened, an a big young one came over te me. ‘Martha, come on, come wit me,’ she said, an she took me hand. ‘Sister wants you. I’m te take ye over te her.’

  ‘Why?’ I whispered. ‘I didn’t do anythin. Am I goin te get inta trouble?’

  ‘No! Why would you get inta trouble? Wha did you do?’

  ‘Nothin!’ But I tried te think. Maybe cos I wet me bed, I thought.

  We arrived over at the shoe room, an the nun was in there rummagin among the shoes. ‘Good girl! Try these on!’ An she put me sittin on the stool, an we tried several pairs until she found a pair tha suited me. ‘Now, let’s get you changed.’ An she put me in a lovely warm woollen dress wit a blue cardigan an brown woollen socks te me knees. Then a lovely tan coat tha went past me knees wit a velvet collar an a matchin velvet hat, an woollen gloves wit the string through the sleeves so I wouldn’t lose them. I was lookin lovely altogether, an then she brought me up te the parlour, an me ma was there.

  ‘Now, we’ll expect to see you this evening. Before five o’clock,’ the nun said te me mammy.

  ‘Yes, Sister! I’ll be back before then. I’ll have her back on time. Don’t worry, she won’t be late!’ me ma said.

  ‘Very well, then. Be good now for your mother!’ the nun said te me. An she slammed the door after us.

  Me ma looked at the shut door an said, ‘Go fuck yerself, Sister!’ an she grabbed me hand an laughed an said, ‘Run, Martha! Let’s get outa this place. We’re not fuckin comin back here!’

  I didn’t know wha was happenin, an me ma said, ‘I had an awful time tryin te talk the nun inta lettin me take ye. I’m supposed te be in court today te sign you away!’

  Me heart leapt wit fright! ‘Ma, wha’s happenin?’

  ‘Nothin!’ me ma said. ‘I’m not goin te turn up.’

  ‘Where’s the babby, Ma? Where is he? Is he all right? Can we go now an collect him?’

  ‘I will when I’m ready,’ she said. Then she went quiet.

  We went over te the Liberties, an me ma hung aroun her aunt’s house. She was walkin up an down but keepin a safe distance so we wouldn’t be seen. ‘What are we waitin for, Ma? Can we not go te collect the babby now, Ma?’

  ‘Wait! Wait! I’m lookin te see if Lizzie’s aroun.’ An sure enough the door opened, an me aunt Lizzie came out in her shawl an shut the door behind her. Me ma took off an shouted, ‘Run, Martha! Quick, before she sees us,’ an sho
t aroun the corner.

  Aunt Lizzie roared, ‘Come back here, you! I saw you.’

  An me ma put her head aroun the corner an shouted, ‘Come on, Martha. Don’t let her catch ye!’

  ‘Come over here, Martha!’ Aunt Lizzie said. ‘I want ye!’

  I looked at the corner where me ma vanished, an I looked at me aunt Lizzie rushin over te me. An I stayed where I was.

  ‘Wha’s tha one been up to? I’ve been lookin everywhere fer her.’

  ‘I don’t know, Aunt Lizzie,’ I said.

  ‘Where’d ye get the style? Ye’re lookin the picture of health.’

  ‘I gorrit in a convent, Aunt Lizzie.’

  ‘Wha convent? Wha’s goin on? What in the name of Jaysus is tha one up te now, may I ask ye? Wait till I get her.’

  Me ma came back aroun the corner an stopped. Then she smiled an came down te Aunt Lizzie. ‘I’m in an awful hurry. I have te rush.’

  ‘Is tha right, now? Well, I have the authorities out lookin fer you. You’re bein put inta a home. An when the parish priest catches ye, the only place you’ll be rushin te is Gloucester Street Convent. That’ll put a stop te yer gallup.’

  ‘Ah, Auntie Lizzie! Don’t do me any harm. Sure I’m lookin after everythin grand! Lookit Martha! Amn’t I keepin her lovely?’