Ma, He Sold Me for a Few Cigarettes

by Martha Long

  ‘All right, petal, we have arrived!’ The man held the door open fer me, an I got out, lookin up at the huge brown doors in the shape of a church arch. The other man pulled a big bell, an I could see a nun lookin out from one of the big windas at the side. She was smilin an then disappeared.

  Then the door opened, an a nun in a long white woolly habit wit a big rope tied aroun her waist an a leather purse attached from a leather belt smiled at us an stood aside, welcomin us inta a big hall. ‘How nice to see you! Do come in! Would you like to join us for tea?’ she smiled at the men.

  ‘Thank you, but we must leave,’ the man wit the curly hair said, wavin his trilby hat at her.

  ‘And this is?’ she said, leanin down te me.

  ‘This is Martha. The child we told you about.’

  I looked at her, tryin te smile, but sayin nothin. ‘Well, Martha, we are very pleased to have you with us.’ An she took hold of me hand an waved te the men as they went out the door.

  ‘OK, Martha, we’re leaving you in good hands,’ an they waved an smiled at the nun an went te the car.

  When they drove off, the nun shut the door an smiled down at me an said, ‘You must be ravenous, you poor child!’ An we went off, her sandals squeakin on the polished black an white tiles. There was loads a big paintins hangin on the walls an big vases of flowers. The scent was lovely! An the smell of polish. An it was so quiet. We went past the big staircase – it was huge, wit big carvins on the banisters – an down a passage, passin big doors. An then she opened a big door, an we went inta the biggest room I’d ever seen. It had a long winda in the front an another one at the end lookin out te a big garden wit trees. It went fer miles. I looked at the fireplace tha went up the wall, halfway from the ceilin. It had carvins of fat babbies flyin through the air an playin. It was marble. The ceilin was the same – carvins all over it an painted in blue. An gorgeous big rugs in lovely colours. An polished floorboards – ye could see yer face in the wood. An a long mahogany table tha was polished like glass, wit big carved chairs. An lovely armchairs beside the fireplace wit carvins on them. An a long armchair tha ladies in the Victorian times used te sprawl in. I saw tha at the pictures.

  ‘Ah! Lavinia, dear, our guest has arrived!’ A girl was sittin at a round table wit a snow-white tablecloth on it. An it had plates of sambidges cut up in little bits wit the crusts gone. An plates of cakes, an lovely red an gold china cups an saucers. An silver teapots an knives an little forks. An Lavinia stood up an held out her hand te me, an she was gorgeous. She had long, sleek, shiny brown hair te her shoulders, an it flicked over one eye. An she lifted it so delicately an flicked it back over her shoulder. She had big green eyes an eyelashes like sweepin brushes, an her skin was the colour of ivory. An she was wearin a maroon an yella striped blazer, an a tunic wit a yella sash tied aroun it, an a cream skirt. An she had snow-white hands wit lovely nails. She gave me a big smile, showin her snow-white teeth, an said, ‘How do you do, Martha?’ An then smiled at the nun an waited fer her te sit down, an then sat herself down an crossed her ankles.

  The nun pulled out a chair fer me an handed me a plate of sambidges. I didn’t know whether te take the whole plate or just take the one. So I took one an waited. ‘I shall pour. Do you take the milk first, dear?’

  I didn’t know wha te say an just muttered, ‘Yeah, please!’ in a hoarse whisper. Lavinia helped herself te a little sambidge, an I waited te see wha she did. She cut the sambidge inta even smaller little bits an popped one inta her mouth an chewed fer ages. I looked at me sambidge, thinkin it was only the size of one mouthful. An ye’d starve te death if ye sat here cuttin it up an spendin the rest of yer life eatin tha slow. So I picked it up an sort of nibbled at it, dyin te put the lot in me mouth an finish the whole plate by meself an then start on the cakes. But it was a very slow business. Lavinia cut hers, an I nibbled mine. I was on me third, an she still hadn’t finished her first.

  ‘Lavinia, dear! Do try one of these delicious pastries!’ an the nun held out a silver shovel thing.

  ‘Oh, Madame! You are spoiling me!’ Lavinia breathed, gigglin an helpin herself te a big cream puff cake.

  The nun laughed an said, ‘When you go up to Oxford, you shall need to keep your strength up! How is Sebastian? Doing very well at Oxford, I should think?’

  ‘Yes, Madame! He is very well. And Mamma is happy he is settling well into his studies.’

  ‘Yes indeed! A brilliant boy! Such a brilliant family. Your dear mamma must be so proud of you both!’ An she cut her cake inta tiny little pieces an popped it inta her mouth an gave a sigh of contentment. Then she looked at me. ‘How is our little charge doing?’

  I was on me fifth sambidge, an they were so lovely. Egg an somethin else, cucumber, I think the nun said. But they were only makin me more hungry. ‘More tea?’ I hesimitated, an she took me cup an saucer, an poured more tea. An put in milk an sugar lumps from a grippin thing. ‘Sandwich? Do have another!’ an she put two on me plate. An I got fed up eatin so slow an stuffed it inta me mouth. They were gone in seconds. I waited fer a cake, watchin the two of them have their chat.

  ‘Yes! Genevieve is gone to our convent in France. We shall indeed miss her.’ I put me hand out te help meself te a cake, a chocolate éclair, an then put me hand back. Maybe I’d better wait. They carried on talkin. I stared at the cakes. Maybe I’ll have the cream bun first, or will I have the cream horn? No! I’ll have the éclair first an then the cream horn.

  The nun threw down her bib, an Lavinia cleaned the corners of her mouth wit her bib an folded it, puttin it back on her plate, an they both stood up. ‘What an enjoyable afternoon!’ the nun said. ‘I did so enjoy our little chat.’

  Lavinia waved an said goodbye te me, an the two of them breezed out the door. Then the nun put her head back in the room while I was starin at the cake, thinkin I didn’t even get te taste them. ‘Do help yourself, Martha! I shan’t be long.’ Then she was gone. I was on me own wit the cakes! I snatched the éclair an swallied it in two bites, an then grabbed the cream horn, spillin flakes everywhere an smotherin me mouth an face wit cream. I was diggin inta the cream bun when she came back. An I pretended te be lookin out the winda, but I was chokin on the bun an tryin not te let her see me actin like a pig. Me head was goin up an down tryin te swalla. An she said, ‘Why don’t you take a little nap?’ I shook me head, not meetin her eyes, sayin yeah! Then I used the bib te wipe me hands an mouth, an I was covered in flakes an white dust from the cream horn. An I knew I was after makin a show of meself.

  She cleaned the table, puttin the dishes on a huge silver tray, an went outa the room an came back wit a silver brush an dustpan an swept all aroun me. An put a lovely lace tablecloth on the table an went out again. Then she came in wit a rug an pillas, an put them on the long sofa. ‘Now, dear! Lie down here and take a nap. You are exhausted!’ I lay down, an she covered me wit the rug an pulled the curtains shut. An she left the room.

  I stretched out on me side, easin the pain in me back an head, an I felt a bit sick from the cakes. I smelt terrible. The sick was dried inta me clothes an skin. An me hair was matted an stiff. I need a wash. This convent was so grand, an the people treated me like I was a lady. I couldn’t understand it. If I turned up at a convent in Dublin lookin the state I’m in now, they’d ring the police an have me arrested, never mind let me in the door. Tha girl was somethin like outa me Bunty comic. Like one of the four schoolgirl Marys. I’d never been up close te someone like her before. She’s like someone ye’d see in a fillum. I wonder what it takes te become like her. Me own teeth are snow white. One aul one asked me once if they were false! A right eejit she was. Childre don’t have false teeth! Then I was out cold.

  I was sittin on the edge of the footpath, shiverin an shakin. Me teeth was bangin together, an I was watchin Jackser’s back bendin up an down, mixin cement fer me feet. He was mutterin te himself, ‘These will keep ye down! Ye won’t come floatin te the top in a hurry. I always warned ye te mark me words well. But ye wou
ldn’t listen te me.’

  Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Help me. Please don’t let Jackser drown me! Me head was threatenin te blow off me shoulders wit the pain in me chest. Me heart was hammerin so hard, an me mind was flyin, tryin te think of a way out. ‘Jackser!’ I squeaked. ‘I know how te get ye a load a money!’ He didn’t hear me. Suddenly he threw down the shovel an turned aroun, headin fer me. I tried te run, but I was a dead weight.

  Somethin was whisperin an shakin me. Me eyes flew open, an I was lookin at a ghost. ‘Are you OK?’ it asked me, bendin over me. It was all white.

  ‘Am I dead?’ I whispered. ‘Did I go up te heaven?’ I waited, afraid te move.

  The ghost bent down closer te me, an I could see its eyes. ‘Wake up, dear! You are having a dream.’ An she lifted me up. I looked aroun me, an it slowly dawned on me I was in the convent, an now I remember. Oh, thanks be te God! It was only a dream. There’s no Jackser. I’m safe.

  ‘Put your shoes on an button up your coat. You are leaving us now.’ I was drippin wit sweat an still shakin from tha dream. Me legs was like jelly as I tried te hurry after her, wonderin wha was goin te happen.

  The two policemen were standin in the hall when the nun rushed me in. An she whipped open the door an stood back, holdin it wide open. An the man put his hand on me shoulder an said, ‘We’re going to get you settled in nicely. Thank you again. Your help was much appreciated.’ An he pointed his trilby hat at the nun.

  She smiled an said in a loud voice, ‘Indeed, it was the least we could do to help the poor wretched child!’ An as soon as our feet hit the outside, she slammed the door wit a big bang.

  The curly head man looked back an then looked at me an grinned te his friend, sayin, ‘She’ll probably have the place fumigated.’

  ‘Aye! She was certainly in a hurry!’ the other man said, an we drove off.

  We arrived at a block a flats, an the car stopped. Curly took a bit a paper outa his pocket an looked at it, sayin, ‘Number seventeen, Andersons. Right, I’ll take her up. Won’t be long!’ An he got outa the car an opened the back door te let me out.

  I followed him up the stairs, an we walked along the first balcony, an he knocked on a blue door wit a shiny brass knocker. The door was whipped open, an a woman in a flowery red apron wit red cheeks an a curly mop of brown hair tha looked newly permed smiled at the man an looked down at me, an laughed, ‘Ye got here all right, then?’

  ‘Yes,’ the man said. ‘Thanks for helping us out. She’ll be no bother to you.’

  ‘Indeed she will not! Come on, ducks! Ye’re very welcome,’ an she grabbed hold a me an wrapped her big massive arm aroun me an pulled me inta her body, wrappin her other arm aroun me.

  The man looked down at me an grinned, ‘You’ll be well looked after, Martha. Tra la!’ An he waved his hat at the woman an rushed off.

  The woman shut the door an looked down at me, peerin inta me face. ‘Tut, tut! What a sorry sight you are!’ She kept clickin her tongue an shakin her head lookin at me. ‘Right,’ she said, makin up her mind. ‘First off, you need a good feed. Yer must be starved!’ An we went down the hall an inta a lovely warm sittin room. The fire was blazin, an there was a lovely big rug in front of it, coverin shiny lino. An two big armchairs. ‘Sit down by the fire, ducks, an keep warm.’ An she rushed off te the scullery, an I could hear her bangin pots an lightin the gas.

  I looked up at the mantelpiece full of photographs. There was one of a babby lyin on his belly on a fur rug smilin at the camera. An another one of a boy about six years old ridin on a donkey at the seaside. The donkey was wearin a straw hat, wit his ears stickin out. An the boy’s mammy was standin beside him, holdin him on. An she was very happy lookin.

  This is lovely! The room is the height of luxury wit all the pictures on the walls an the ornaments all aroun the room. An the glass case in the corner, wit the lovely delft china an little statues. I’m glad te be here an out a the convent. Tha nun was very peculiar. Ye’d never keep up wit them grand people. All tha smilin. Ye’d get a pain in yer face after a while. An ye’d have te be good all the time an not lose yer temper an shout at anyone. An the good food ye’d get’d do ye no good, cos ye have te chew it fer hours. Sure there’s no enjoyment in tha! I could hear sizzlin from the fryin pan an smell sausages. An I felt me heart lift an gave a big sigh of contentment. Life can be lovely. An I sat back in the armchair, listenin te the lovely music comin outa the radiogram in the alcove behind the armchair.

  ‘Now, get this down ye!’ An she put a huge white dinner plate wit beans an sausages an a fried egg, all pink on the top, an fried bread an tomatoes in front of me. An a knife an fork, an poured me a cup a tea. An went off sayin, ‘I’ll run yer bath fer yer, an then ye can have a good night’s sleep in me son’s bed. He’s yer age, an he’s stayin over with his auntie an granmar. They’ll spoil him somethin rotten, an no good’ll be had from him, bless him!’

  I looked at the plate, takin in all the gorgeous food. An she roared from down the hall, ‘Don’t be shy! Eat up. It’ll do yer a power a good.’

  I looked aroun, wonderin how she knew. She must have eyes everywhere. An I started te go at it like a horse, stuffin me mouth. Oh, the fried bread is heaven. An she’s lovely altogether. I was lickin the plate clean wit me tongue when I heard her comin back, an I put tha plate down quick. ‘My! You was hungry,’ she said, foldin her arms across her chest an laughin. ‘Did ye have enough?’

  I shook me head an whispered, ‘Yeah, thanks very much.’

  ‘Hang on,’ an she rushed inta the scullery an came back wit a big slice a cake. ‘That’s a Victoria sponge. The granny sent it over fer yer tea when we knew we was expectin ye.’ I looked at the two slabs a cake wit the jam an cream in the middle an took a little nibble, afraid te make meself look like a savage. ‘Go on! Try it, it’s delicious. I promise it won’t bite yer!’ An she laughed an poured me more tea. I looked up inta her face then, te make sure it was all right. An her eyes was twinklin. An I laughed then, feelin at me ease, an took a big bite, not mindin about the pain in me face from havin the black eye. She took the plate away an left me wit the rest a the cake an said, ‘Eat as much as yer like, darlin! That’s wot it’s there for!’

  I heard her washin up, an I stared at the cake an picked up the lot an started te pile it inta me mouth. Oh! I’m havin the best time of me life. It’s even better than the Sunshine Home. ‘Now!’ she said, comin back. ‘Let’s get yer washed an inta bed.’

  She peeled off me clothes an checked the water, turnin off the hot tap, an said, ‘In ye get.’ It was hot, an I hesimitated. ‘Go on, luv, ye need it te help ease all the bruisin yer got.’ An she held me arm an gently lowered me inta the water. Then she picked up a washcloth an knelt down beside the bath an started te soak water all over me back an neck. She looked very worried an went quiet as she soaked me gently wit the cloth. ‘Am I hurtin ye, darlin?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘No,’ I whispered, ashamed she could see all the batterin I got. She’d know I’m not respectable an come from a bad home.

  ‘What sort of a world do we live in tha could do this te an innocent child!’ she muttered te herself. ‘Every inch is covered in bruises!’ Then she poured the cloth over me head an started te wash me hair. The pain shot through me. ‘Oh! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I can feel the terrible lumps on yer head. I’ll be as gentle as I can.’ An she washed me hair wit soap, without touchin me head very hard. An then she rinsed it off wit a spray.

  She wrapped me in a big towel, an I followed behind her inta a bedroom. ‘Now sit there on the bed while I get ye a pair a pyjamas.’ An she opened a drawer an gave me a lovely pair of blue an white ones, an pulled down the covers offa the bed an switched on a night light, she called it. ‘Now, I’ll leave tha on fer yer! An don’t worry. If ye want a drink or anythin, you just holler, an I’ll be right wit ye! Goodnight now! Sweet dreams,’ an she closed the door.

  I snuggled down inta bed an looked over at all the toys an books on the shelves. Paddington the Bea
r, wit his red duffle coat, was lovely. An sittin next te him was Rupert the Bear. Another shelf was packed wit little Dinky cars an lorries an buses. Tha son has got te be the luckiest person in the whole world. Pity we can’t swap places. I snuggled down more an gave a big sigh. Me eyes were lovely an heavy, an I never felt so warm an cosy in me whole life.

  I sat in the armchair wit the Beano comic on me lap. Mrs Anderson, Flo, she told me te call her, bought it fer me this mornin. I turned the pages, but me heart wasn’t in it. I looked at me coat tha was nearly new again. Flo got it cleaned fer me an washed me frock. I was spankin clean, but I didn’t get any satisfaction from tha. Flo was hoppin aroun the room, givin big sighs an smackin the furniture wit the dust cloth. There was nothin te polish, cos everythin was shiny enough te see yer face in. She kept lookin out the winda. ‘It’ll be all right, ducks, you’ll see!’ I looked over at her, an she was starin back at me, her face lookin very worried. She opened her mouth te say somethin but then dropped her eyes te the duster in her hands. Then she let her arms drop an gave a big sigh. I turned away, lookin at nothin.

  A whole week passed, but it only felt like a day. An now it was over. I have te leave an go back te Dublin. No more Flo pettin an huggin me, always laughin an rushin aroun doin things, bendin down te look inta me face an say, ‘I gorra a nice surprise fer our dinner’, or ‘I’m makin yer favourite fer yer tea, chips an eggs an beans’. Or readin me Bunty lyin on me belly under the cosy blankets an quilt, wearin lovely warm clean pyjamas, wit the lamp on beside me bed. Me heart was very heavy sittin down in me belly. An I was feelin sick. ‘I’ll make us a nice cup a tea!’ An she rushed off te the scullery. I watched her go, lookin at her apron tha wrapped all the way aroun her back an tied at the waist. She was wearin her pinky rosy one wit the flowers today. I like tha one. An her cosy slippers tha she always wore aroun the house. No more Flo! It feels like I’m leavin me real mammy fer ever. I took te her straight away. Now it’s like we’d always been together.