by Martha Long
Hmm, godparents. I don’t care. I don’t have any, I snorted te meself, hidin under the blankets, not wantin her te see me face again in case she remembered somethin else I did. I had enough punishments lined up for meself. Yeah! Godparents. Tha was the parade a kind-hearted people bringin ye te their home fer a taste a family life, the nuns called it. Nobody ever took me out. Sniff! Somethin always went wrong.
I nearly got te go out wit two aul spinster sisters in their green Morris Minor. I made it te the steps a the convent. I was millin around wit the other childre, waitin te see which of the happy laughin people I would get te go out wit. Some of them were havin te fly around te catch the kids they were given, because the childre were havin none of it! They all wanted the young ones wit the big fancy Rover. The ‘orphans’, as we were called, were very choosy! Nobody wanted the two spinsters. Sister Eleanor was mortified. The kids were makin a show a her. Then she turned te me.
‘Martha, darling!’ an she was smilin! ‘You go now with the two lovely ladies,’ she said, just about te hand me over.
I looked at them. One had a hairy chin, an she took a hankie outa her pocket an handed me a sweet wrapped up in it. I stared. ‘Come along now, dear,’ she said, reachin out fer me hand. ‘My sister Maud and I shall take you for a lovely picnic under the trees in the Phoenix Park.’
‘Oh, we are so looking forward to it,’ Maud whispered, blowin stale air inta me face an smilin, showin me her yella false teeth an shakin her head up an down, makin her big maroon-felt hat wave at me, wit the feather stickin out the back.
I tried te pretend I didn’t hear, an looked around fer someone else.
‘Eeeek! Look wha tha aul one is givin tha eegit!’ the kids roared, movin away fer a better look, watchin the two women tryin te grab me hand.
I looked at Sister Eleanor, wantin te go wit the woman in the fur coat an her husband wit the curly hair an the big smile, wearin the Crombie coat, tha just got outa tha big black motor car.
‘I’m goin wit them!’ Imelda MacDermot roared when she saw me lookin at them.
I turned te the nun. ‘Eh, Sister Eleanor . . .’
‘Good girl!’ she roared, pushin me at the aul ones an smilin at me te encourage me.
I moved off wit me head hangin down te me belly button, an listenin te tha MacDermot one cacklin like a witch when Sister Eleanor said, ‘Now, darling! You can go with these lovely people!’
Ah, fuck! She’s a pet! Tha’s why she gets te go wit them! I would do anythin fer Sister Eleanor. But she’s makin a fool a me! Then I heard a familiar roar. Me head whipped around in shock.
‘Are ye there, Martha? Where are ye?’
‘Who’s that?’ the kids looked in shock. I tried te hide.
‘Ah! There ye are, Martha! Ha, ha. I’ve come up te see ye!’
‘Who is that mad woman?’ one of the big young ones roared.
‘Who are you callin mad?’ me ma screamed. ‘I’ll be done fer you! I’ll fuckin knife ye!’
The crowd scattered. I was left standin on me own on the steps. The nuns were grabbin the kids an whippin them down te the cars. I stared at the ma! The one an only time she decides te come te see me an it has te be this one! National Children’s Day! Ah, fuck! An wit the whole convent listenin! I was ashamed a her an annoyed at the other kids fer laughin at me ma. I wanted te give them a box. Tha was definitely very unlucky! She turnin up like tha.
Yeah! But I was safe there. Safe from men, safe from Jackser! Safe from Sally. No more trying to make her happy. I now spent my time trying to make Sister Eleanor happy. I got my first idea of love from her. It was watching her hugging the little ones.
But there was no hugs for me. I’d missed my opportunity; it was too late. I was too big. There were too many children looking for love from one person – Sister Eleanor. I had a terrible longing. It was painful. A deep, penetrating, obsessive desperation for just one hug! It must be a lovely feeling to be loved by her. To be special. I had wished with all my might she was my mother. I wanted a smile, to be called ‘pet’, ‘darling’! It was a bit difficult, though. I was always in trouble! I was usually sent ‘out of the group’ because I fought with the other kids. I wasn’t accepted by anyone, including the nuns. The children were very clannish. They had grown up together. I was the ‘outsider’, the ‘street kid’. They had their rules and they were very competitive. No looking for attention! No sucking up to the enemy – the nuns! No, you can’t suck up. This gets you praise. Jealousy would erupt! Everyone wanted love, affection. But this was only for the chosen few. I couldn’t figure out the secret. But I never gave up!
I took meself te bed early, readin the Bunty, waitin fer the rustle of her black habit, the clankin a the rosary beads an the rattlin of keys. Listenin fer the squeakin of her leather shoes on the wooden staircase. Then I would shoot up in the bed an jam me Bunty inta the locker, whippin out the rosary beads, pretendin te be very holy! I would sit up straight, holdin me hands high up in the air so she would see me prayin. I would hang on te the last bead on the rosary, sayin the last prayer, lettin her think I said the whole thing. Tha takes hours! But, not too loud! It wouldn’t look genuine! Then I would close me eyes, makin me lips move, then let me eyes fly open, pretendin I got a shock wit her appearin outa nowhere! I would watch her sweepin through the dormitory on her way te her room fer her Wednesday-night early bedtime.
‘Oh! There’s a good child! In bed early and getting the rosary. Goodnight, darling. If only the others would follow your example!’
‘Yes, Sister Eleanor! I’m prayin fer yer special intentions!’
‘Oh, thank you so much, darling! I have so many intentions!’
She continues inta the next dormitory, her mind on a million other tings. The dormitories are empty. All the childre are downstairs enjoyin themselves. I’m the only eegit up here! An I crane me neck, watching her vanish outa sight an hearin her footsteps fade away through another door an inta the convent, which is forbidden territory for us.
And for the bright warm seconds I basked in her affections, I was special. ‘Darling, pet!’ Then the light dimmed, and the warmth vanished, and I was cold again, empty, the familiar loneliness sweeping through me. I am bereft, feeling colder, more alone than before, the hunger for love gnawing at my centre. I know now there are worse things than fear, beatings, brutality. It is the hole in my heart I want to fill with love. A smile, a hug, a kiss; to feel the warmth of a mother’s arms around me; to be accepted. So that is the love I want. There is such a thing as love! I’ve seen it in the smile of Sister Eleanor as she bends down and gently lifts a little one into her arms and looks into its eyes, smiling and crooning, her eyes shining with gentleness, and wraps her arms around the little one, burying her head and kissing it. Then she lifted her head and saw me staring very intently and gave me a look, knowing I would love that too. But I’m not a cuddly little one. I turned away, desperate because I’d missed my time and I hunger for the want of it. Desperation sweeps through me.
16
* * *
I get up early before the nuns wake us fer breakfast – it isn’t even a mornin fer the children’s Mass – an creep down te the chapel, joinin the nuns for Mass! Just me an one other suck-up. She had been at it for years! The nuns think she is goin te join them when she grows up.
‘Oh, she’s a beautiful child,’ they cooed! Well, I’m here now te get me share. I crept inta the chapel wit me head bowed an me hands joined in the air. Then I saw the other eegit, kneelin wit her hands joined together pushed out in front a her, starin up at the priest, wearin the blue fer Our Lady Sunday mantilla, lookin like St Bernadette! Mantilla! The cheek a her! We’re not supposed te be wearin them until Sunday! I look like a gobshite let outa Grangegorman fer the day in this bloody beret! Huh! So ye can get away wit murder when ye’re a pet!
I pushed in beside her, thinkin she’d be happy wit the company. But she moved down the bench like she didn’t want te know me, mutterin, ‘Geshaway from me, ye notice box!’ Then she
glared at me from the other end a the bench.
She’s not wantin te share the limelight. Tha’s her trouble, I thought, flickin me eyes away from her an starin up at the altar, knowin the nuns from behind me were borin holes in me back.
She’s not very ‘holy’, I thought, seein right through her game. She was one of Sister Eleanor’s pets. I’m goin te become a pet as well, an as soon as possible. I yawned, wishin I was back in me bed, an thinkin this business a gettin inta the goodie club was hard work!
Me pinin fer love never lets up. I took meself down te the nursery an slobbered all over the babbies! Ahh! They were all lined up in a row, sittin on their little potties! But before I had a chance te even give one a them a kiss or even open me mouth, a big young one boxed me out the door.
‘Gesh out of here, you!’ she roared, pointin me out the door an draggin me wit her other hand.
I gave her a kick an she caught me foot an I lost me shoe. I kicked her again an lost the other shoe! I was gettin ready te lash at her when the nun in charge appeared back wit another load a babbies in from the tilets.
‘No! You don’t own the place, Abby Griffin! Now give me back me shoes, ye big overgrown ape, or I’ll box ye!’ I roared in a whisper, grittin me teeth.
She stood starin down at me wit her hands on her hips an laughed, ‘Ye little scut. Gesh out! I’m in charge here!’
‘What’s that one doing here?’ Sister Mary James suddenly roared an flew at me, grabbin me by the neck an landin me out the door. Then she banged it shut on me face. I was left lookin at the shut door, an me shoes still inside!
I was just about te put me head in the door again when it flew open an me shoes came flyin out, bangin me on the head. ‘Ye mean cow!’ I roared.
‘Street kid!’ she snorted at me.
‘Culchie four eyes!’ I roared back. Ah, let it go, I muttered te meself. It’s not worth the bother. Then I had an idea. I never give up!
As soon as I heard the squeak a Sister Eleanor’s leather shoes on the convent passage – I’d been waitin fer ages, just hangin aroun the landin, waitin. I knew her walk! – an the rattlin of her rosary beads, I leapt, havin her all te meself for about five seconds. Then the others came rushin out from different directions, swarmin aroun her like flies. They knew her walk as well. So it’s me followin her along wit ten others. We’re all like little shadows, she complains, lookin back at us, draggin outa her. All tellin each other we had special demands.
‘I need te get me new sum copy! Tha’s the only reason I’m followin her!’
‘Yeah! An I want te know if she’s givin out any sweets,’ I say. ‘I’m not lookin fer attention!’
‘No! Neither am I!’ we all tell each other.
‘I don’t even like her!’ Dilly Nugent says in her squeaky voice, curlin up her nose an droppin her mouth, shakin her mop a red curly hair at us.
‘No! Nor me!’ we all agree. But she’s not takin any notice a us. She’s busy rushin along, talkin te herself an springin on people fer not doin their jobs. We crash inta her as she stops suddenly.
‘Karen Bingley! Take that school uniform off at once!’ she roars at yer woman. ‘You are punished!’
‘God, I hate you!’
‘Don’t you dare take the name of the Lord in vain. Get up those stairs!’ an she grabs yer woman an pushes her up the stairs. ‘You will go to bed early!’ she roars, takin off again.
We rush after her. Then she stops suddenly at the door a the big young ones’ playroom. ‘Do you hear that disgraceful noise?’ she asks us, squintin her eyes an curlin her mouth inta an ‘O’ shape. We squint an curl our mouths inta an ‘O’ shape, an suck in our breath, disgusted too! Then she whips open the door an runs at the big ones wit their legs sprawled on her sofa.
‘Yeah! Suck-ups! Notice boxes!’ they roar at us as we come chargin in behind Sister Eleanor. They’re not bothered about lookin for attention, because they gave up long ago. They go aroun now wit sour faces, an give Sister Eleanor dirty looks an snarl at each other.
‘Right! That is it!’ she screams at them. ‘I told you girls to keep that radio down.’ Then she springs for it, takin out the plug an holdin it te her chest, cradlin it like a babby.
The big ones go mad. ‘Give us back our radio! I hate you! Just because you can’t have fun, you want the rest of us te live like nuns!’
‘Well, really!’ Sister Eleanor breathes, an bends herself in half, still holdin the radio, an squints at them, all red-faced an lookin very hurt an annoyed at the same time! ‘I am going to punish the lot of you! You won’t see this again for a month.’
Then the screams started up, an she flies out the door wit her radio, delighted she got the better a them until she trips over us, an the radio goes flyin, an Sister Eleanor lies splattered on the floor after hittin the back of her head. Then she starts cryin. An we laugh in shock.
The big ones grab the radio, but it’s broken! An Sister Eleanor gets up an pushes us outa the way, roarin at us for annoyin her, an she can’t get any peace wit the lot of us! So she flies back te the convent, an the big ones fly at us!
Then the wait would begin all over again. Waitin until the next time she came down. Probably teatime.
I volunteered meself for the next group up, from three te six year olds. Te sleep in their dormitory at night an take care a them. I was delighted wit meself! I got me own cubicle. It was very narrow. I had te walk in sideways te get te me bed. You’d have te wait years fer one a these down in me own dormitory. There is only four a them in the convent, an ye had te be nearly sixteen, ready te go out inta the world! I would be dead an buried waitin tha long! The best bit was Sister Eleanor had te come up every night te check I was in bed. So fer ten seconds I got her te meself!
We had a party every night, me an the little ones. I sang songs wit them, told them stories an combed their hair. They would all line up, takin their turn. I loved bein in charge. I practised the German hausfrau plait on their hair, curlin it up aroun their ears. I told them ghost stories, puttin the fear a God inta them! They shivered an whined, an came creepin inta me one by one, an climbed inta me bed, all piled on top a each other. I’m definitely not tellin them any more ghost stories, I snorted, tryin te get comfortable in the lumpy bed in the middle a the dormitory. I was havin it all te meself. They were all packed in my bed! So I had te sleep outside in the dormitory, te get some sleep for meself.
The singin got louder, an the little ones couldn’t be dragged outa the bed in the mornins. They snoozed on the workroom table instead a sittin up an payin attention te their nun when she tried te teach them the hymns an prayers. ‘They have circles under their eyes,’ she complained te Sister Eleanor. So did I, because they wouldn’t go te sleep fer me.
But they thought I was great, an so did I, until Sister Herod said, ‘You are not suitable for the job. I have asked for someone else,’ an sent me back te me own dormitory.
No! I’m not givin up. So it’s back te Sister Eleanor! I make sure te get inta the bench in fronta her at chapel. She’s sittin directly behind me. Lovely! I start te practise me new speakin voice. I open me mouth an start by sayin each word very carefully, makin sure all the nuns at the back can hear me, especially the Reverend Mother. She’s promised te send me off te a reformatory school if me behaviour doesn’t improve. She’s been tryin te get rid a me from the first day she clapped eyes on me. But she’s had no luck so far. The courts won’t let her. Because they sent me here! So here I stay. Unless I get enough black marks against me.
She told me the day I arrived, ‘We do not take the likes of you, and the court did not ask my permission to send you here!’ They don’t take robbers like me! Tha’s wha she meant!
The prayers started, an I coughed, clearin me throat. ‘Hail Mary, full a Grace.ze,’ I roared, makin sure everyone could hear me.
The gobshites sittin next te me started sniggerin. They got a thump on the back from Sister Eleanor. Serves them right! I have a hard time, though, wit the dese, dose, dat an de
m. Anita Cunningham told me te practise tha if I want te . . . to speak properly! She’s very intelligent! She goes te . . . to a secondary school an . . . and knows loads a . . . of tings! She’s very nice, too. Ye can talk te her. Not like the rest a the gobshites!
I opened my eyes slowly, feeling I was sinking lower. Those memories! That child is really beginning to haunt me lately. The past is catching up with me. It’s growing stronger, taking me over. Nothing can be gained from allowing those memories to creep up on me. I opened my eyes, gazing up at the altar but not really seeing, just sensing the priest was coming to an end.
He came down from the altar to shake holy water over the coffin and murmur prayers for Harry’s soul. That he may find eternal rest.
I wonder if I will find rest, peace, acceptance. I still have that deep ache inside me for love. It has settled down into a hollow feeling, an emptiness, and at the centre of it is the gnawing ache, like a chronic pain.
17
* * *
The priest leaned over the bench and whispered, ‘Would you all like to come forward?’ and he indicated with his outstretched arm the bench in front.
Everyone stood up and moved into the bench, sitting down. Immediately, people started filing past us, taking our hand and shaking it. They bent, looking into our eyes with sadness and shaking their heads, and murmuring to each of us in turn, ‘I’m very sorry fer yer trouble. Harry was a lovely fella. May God rest him,’ and the line moved on.
So many people! So many people knew Harry and wanted to pay their last respects to him and his family. The ma was finding it hard. She would glance up and try to smile, then drop her head down again into her lap. A lot of people gave me puzzled looks because they never clapped eyes on me before, and I didn’t seem to match with the family. I looked like one a them social workers! But then, wha was I doin wearin the black? Ye only wear tha when ye’re related! I could see it in their eyes and watch their brain turning over. They would probably work it out in the end and draw the right conclusions. She was sent away! Probably fer robbin, an when she served her time, went off te England an never came back! Up till now!
