Ma, I've Got Meself Locked Up in the Mad House

by Martha Long

  I don’t like moving – change. It means being uprooted. Lost again, left wandering and having nothing I can call my own, nobody belonging to me. It plunges me right back with the aul fella Jackser, trapped in his iron grip. I shook my head, not allowing the picture of my old life to take root. No, never mind him. There’s no point in going back to the past. That doesn’t exist any more. I felt depressed at the thought of having to change. I like things as they are, I sniffed, my eyes darting around the room, trying to think of a way out. Bloody change always will frighten me. I wanted to sit down and cry and wail like a baby. Angry with the fucking staff for pushing me on.

  I know deep down in my heart they are only doing it for my own good. But fuck that! It’s too soon. I want to make the change myself, when I’m ready. Oh, dear God! I can feel me heart sinking down into me belly, bringing a heavy weight that is starting to paralyse me all over again. When will this ever end?

  Ahh! Jesus Christ! These were supposed to be the best years of me life. Sarah is now on her feet. I’m free again. I kept going all these years looking forward to now. Ohh! I don’t understand! Why does my past keep coming back to haunt me now? I sank down on the bed, burying my head in my hands. I’m tormented with these thoughts! I closed my eyes, letting the pictures fly through my head.

  47

  * * *

  I remember when I moved into my home. My very first home in my whole life. I couldn’t believe it was happening to me. Years of hard work, striving relentlessly, and finally I had arrived. Sarah and I moved in. But I couldn’t settle. I kept wandering back to my old flat, where I had lived for years with Sarah. She was only a little thing when we moved in. But I felt my whole adult life was there. All my memories – the good and the bad. The old flat was unlucky, no doubt about that. It had been built for an aristocrat’s mistress. Sarah discovered the old tunnel he used to come and visit his little bit of fluff. It led straight through to the great big manor house now lying in ruins on the grounds of the old estate.

  Our flat was one half of the whole ground floor of an old Georgian house. It had been beautiful in its day, but we had water running down the walls like the Catacombs of Paris, the black mould turning everything into muck that was left lying under the beds, and the clothes turned green in the wardrobe. The sheets on our beds would have steam rising out of them when our cold damp bodies heated them up. The mice would play ring-a-ring-a-rosy in the frying pan. They had squatters’ rights, because no matter how many traps I laid, they bred faster than I could shift them.

  No woman could keep a man in that house. The couple who had lived in the flat before us moved out, going their separate ways and swearing undying hatred for each other. Young newlyweds moved in to the flat upstairs – the old widow who had lived there for over forty years died. They put a face on me that would turn milk sour. All that kissing and holding hands! Then it was the removal van and promises to put Mafia contracts out on each other, swearing the other would die first.

  In five flats, one marriage lasted thirty years, then they moved into the flat upstairs and he was gone! He legged it with the only single woman in the house, who had moved in next door to them. She had just left home after recovering from a nervous breakdown. The only thing I learned about her was that she was a civil servant, her name was Madge and she didn’t like fleas! In fact, she was terrified of them. Only last night she had spent the entire night shivering in the chair when she discovered one in her bed, she confided, gasping and holding her hand to her mouth, her eyes bulging. I gasped, thinking of the mattress walking off with me still clinging to it as a child. We were riddled with fleas, and other things!

  I stared as she told me her business, my mouth open and my head shaking up and down, watching her eyes darting around as she talked to me, probably keeping an eye out for the fleas. Then she was gone, taking the dapper little dandy with the silver-head-of-a-lion walking stick with her, leaving his broken-hearted wife to console herself with the woman’s husband from two doors down. He was a retired sea captain. The other husbands all died.

  I was shocked by the carryings-on of these middle-class, elderly people. They were shocked when I sunbathed in my knickers and nothing else, out in the garden hidden by the hedge. I thought, Verily, it is true what they say. ‘The aristocrat’s wife put a curse on the house,’ I used to go around muttering. But I felt my soul belonged there. I made all my decisions about our lives there, for Sarah and me. I often sat in the kitchen at night. It was warmer than the huge drawing room. I would read and think and even cry with awful loneliness that always came creeping back when I felt overwhelmed with worry. Especially around Christmas. We didn’t have anyone we could go to – that was bloody lonely. I felt it for Sarah. I found it difficult enough to get the money for the rent, never mind getting the presents for little Sarah, and the food, and the coal for the fire. Yeah, it was certainly tough going then. But we survived.

  One Christmas was really bad. Sarah was very sick. She got infective hepatitis. It was going around the school. I watched the doctor take off out the door after letting me know what I already knew – what was wrong with her. I looked at her lying in the bed, with the tired, pinched, yellow-white face looking up at me like an old woman at eight years of age. She was so tired and couldn’t keep anything in her stomach.

  I grabbed the phone and rang the children’s hospital. ‘I want to speak to the ward sister, please,’ I said to the voice at the other end, then asked, ‘How do I nurse her, Sister?’

  ‘Well, diet is very important. Her liver is not working. So don’t give her anything with fat. No milk, cheese, eggs or fatty meat. Absolutely nothing with fat. She needs plenty of rest. It will take at least six weeks for her liver to recover.’

  ‘But she will recover,’ I said, ‘if I do exactly what you just instructed? If I give her plenty of rest and nothing with fat, and keep her in bed rest for at least six weeks?’

  ‘Yes! Goodbye now,’ she said.

  ‘Thank you, Sister,’ I said, putting down the phone, feeling more in control now I knew what needed to be done.

  I got a piece of paper and wrote down what I could feed her. OK. Meat, fillet – that would be good for her. Brown bread with tomatoes on top. Plenty of good fresh vegetables. Right! Next question is how do I get the money? I can’t leave the house. So I won’t be able to work. Fuck!

  I sat down at the little red-topped round table, looking around the narrow, old-fashioned kitchen. I stared up at the shelf holding the battered old Bush radio that crackled and hissed before springing into life. Then my eyes wandered over to the gas cooker standing in the middle between the two old presses, with a worktop one end and a Belfast sink at the other, listening to the never-ending dripping tap that was nearly company. It broke the deadly silence.

  It was beginning to get dark. I looked up at the big, old, high window overlooking the backyard. The grey, damp night mist was pressing its nose against the window, bringing in the dark, showing it was nearly Christmas week. Jaysus! Money! How much have I got? I knew exactly what I had as I reached up to the shelf, taking down my handbag. I opened the little brown purse, counting out the change. One pound and thirty-seven pence. I checked the back of the purse, counting out six ten-pound notes. Sixty pounds. I can’t touch that. That’s put by for the rent. The rent man will be around in the morning looking for his money. At least that will get us a roof over our head for another month. We can’t afford to get ourselves put out on the street.

  Right! I’m going to need money for the bottle of gas. I will need that for the Superser heater. Jaysus! That thing eats the gas. It’s grand when it’s heating, if you sit right up to it. But the place freezes when I have to switch it off. It causes an awful lot of condensation, leaving the air cold and damp. The only good thing about it is you can push it around the place. That bottle is nearly empty. Fuck! That costs five quid.

  OK, think! I’m grand for the rent. So we have the roof over our heads. The electric – I keep that to a minimum. Only the li
ghts – and I spare that – and the little fridge. Sarah’s school fees are now paid up for the next year. Fine! So all we need, really, is food and a bit of heat! I could feel me heart beginning to hum with fear as an idea was coming to me.

  I stood up, thinking as I took out the hot-water bottle from under the sink and filled the kettle, putting it on the gas cooker. Thank God I don’t have to pay a gas bill! No, we have all the cooking for free. I won’t let the gas company in to cut it off! I think they got fed up coming around and banging on the front-room window, roaring to be let in.

  I filled the bottle with the scalding water and crept into the bedroom, walking around me own bed. I held me breath, seeing she was turned on her side, fast asleep. I made me way over, sliding the hot water bottle in under the blankets, tucking them up around her head, leaving only her nose out for air. Jaysus! It’s fucking freezing in here. But at least she’s snug up here in the corner, out of the draughts. They’re blowing in from all directions what with the big old window on one side letting in the cold – it doesn’t close properly – then the draught from the hall. Not to mention the kitchen window letting the icy winds blow in from the backyard. Jaysus! One day I’m going to get me own house. Then no one can put us out on the street. That’s always me biggest fear.

  Right! I better get moving. I picked up the phone and dialled my friend Gean.

  ‘Hello!’

  I listened, hearing the excited voice at the other end getting outa breath at the thought it might be someone interesting.

  ‘Is that you, Magdaline?’

  ‘Yeah! Oh, hi, Martha,’ she said, letting the excitement out of her voice.

  ‘Ha! Sorry, love, I’m not Terry Ryan! Has he asked you out yet?’

  ‘Tsk! I’m not after him! He’s too boring. Besides, he keeps coming out in a nervous rash every time we try to talk to him. Or at least when I do!’ she sniffed.

  ‘Well, now! From what I heard, the pair of you are mad about each other. So stand still and let him make the first move. Don’t be crowding him with all your friends. Give the poor young fella a chance,’ I said, laughing.

  ‘Yeah, but I don’t think he’s ever going to ask me out, Martha. He’s too shy!’ she said, sounding very down in the mouth.

  ‘Right! Listen, love! I’m in a bit of a hurry. Is Gean there?’

  ‘No. She’s not in from work yet.’

  ‘Oh.’ I could feel me heart sinking.

  ‘Will I get her to phone you when she comes in, Martha?’

  ‘No, that will be too late. The shops will be closed. Listen, darling. Would you be able to come around and keep an eye on Sarah for me? Just for a while. She’s sick, and I can’t leave her on her own.’

  ‘Yeah, sure. Do you want me to come around now?’

  ‘Yes, oh, would you do that for me, love? That would be a great help!’

  ‘Yeah! I’ll just tell Mum, then I’m on my way.’

  ‘Oh, thanks, darling. You’re a real lifesaver!’

  ‘See you in a few minutes.’

  ‘Yeah! Bye!’

  I hung up the phone and rushed to get my coat on. OK! I need the shopping bags and the money. I better not spend the whole pound. OK! What else do I need? I opened the press on the wall, seeing a half packet of Odlums Porridge. Hmm! I can make that with water. There’s no fat in that. Need bread. Only a half packet left. I’ll get brown bread, but it’s a bit dear and will go fast! Jaysus! I need everything. The press is empty! Pity I couldn’t get out to make a few bob this week. No, not with the child being sick. Fuck! There must be a better way of earning a living than going from hand to mouth.

  I stepped off the bus and made my way across the path lined with bushes and trees. When I came out into the open area, I could see the car park was full of cars. The area was lit up with the bright lights coming from the big building ahead. It must be the biggest supermarket in the country, with food on one side, then you can wander into the other, where they sell rows and rows of clothes and toys.

  I could feel my nerves going. I have an awful fear of big shops. It reminds me too much of when I used to have to go robbing for Jackser. But I have to come here. I need to save me pennies. It’s cheaper than the local corner shops.

  I pushed my way in through the glass doors, getting blinded by the bright lights, and stooped down to pick up a basket. Then I pushed my way forward, having to fight in through the crowds. It’s black with people, all intent on getting their Christmas shopping.

  My eyes lit on all the boxes of stuff selling for the Christmas. Tins of biscuits, boxes of chocolates, boxes wrapped with red ribbons holding expensive stuff. The place was heaving with people. I slowly pushed past well-dressed women pushing trolleys of food, muttering to their husbands about what to get next. The husbands followed, trailing behind, pushing cartloads of wine and whiskey, and boxes of crackers and all sorts of luxury stuff.

  I made my way to the vegetables. I picked up a net of onions. Jaysus! The price of them. Thirty-two pence for these. There’s only six! I stopped for a minute, thinking, letting me eyes wander around the huge shop, watching the wives with their husbands, staggering along with every luxury of food and drink a body could want.

  Suddenly, without thinking, I dropped the onions down and made my way back to the front entrance. I let down the basket and took hold of a big trolley. I could feel meself going icy cold, and I started to shiver inside myself. I fixed me face, letting it go still, and stared ahead, making myself go still inside and everything inside me on alert. I was totally concentrated on what I was doing. I wandered along the shelves, picking up the best packets of tea, orange juice for Sarah, mandarin oranges, Bovril, brown sliced bread – Hovis! – six packets of the best fillet of steak. I kept filling the trolley with anything that took my fancy. It’s Christmas!

  ‘OK, enough,’ I breathed to meself, seeing the trolley was threatening to drop with the amount of stuff stacked high as I could get it. I made my way down the shop and parked the trolley along the side, then went next door to the clothes and toy store. It’s all under the one roof. I grabbed another trolley and made me way along the counters and clothes racks.

  I picked out a lovely jumper and trousers for Sarah. This will keep her lovely and warm. I picked up nighties and pyjamas, and started filling the trolley. I wandered on, coming to the toy section. That’s nice – a lovely white doll’s wardrobe for Sindy, the doll who has everything! I picked her up, landing her in the trolley beside the wardrobe. Oh, these are lovely. Packets of clothes for Sindy. A riding outfit with even the whip and boots. A packet with nothing but high-heel shoes, bags and bangles – lovely. I loaded all the different styles of clothes and jewellery for the doll they had to offer. Now the trolley is full.

  Right! OK, Martha. Now it’s time! I looked around, seeing the crowded shop with everyone intent on spending money faster than running water. I walked off slowly, heading over to the back of the shop, getting lost inside the alcove with the coat racks. I looked around, seeing there was no one heading in my direction. Suddenly I opened the bag, fitting all the stuff in, then stopped, lifting me head to see if anyone was coming. No! Keep going. Me heart was shivering with fear, but I held meself tight, keeping still inside meself, and packed everything into the bag.

  Right! That’s the lot. I could feel me face heating up with the nerves. I took in slow deep breaths and grabbed stuff off the racks, loading the trolley. Throwing them over the bags. An empty trolley with a full shopping bag would look suspicious! I headed off looking sharp, but not too quick, making my way towards the entrance.

  When I got to the end of the row, I looked towards the entrance doors. Fuck! The aul fella in the uniform is standing guard at the middle door. I moved back up, keeping on the inside, where there’s not many people, then stopped to examine the price of coats I wasn’t interested in. I have to look like a normal shopper. Then I turned, making me way back down again. The aul fella was now wandering slowly down towards the supermarket with his hands behind his back.<
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  OK! Now! I whipped the coats off and grabbed up the bags, making me way quickly, not too fast, towards the entrance doors. I stopped at the big plate-glass windows to look around, letting me eyes take in the length and breadth of the place, wanting to see if anyone was giving me the eye, watching me! I stayed perfectly still, keeping me face stiff, showing no nerves. But me heart is hopping like mad. Everyone seems busy about their own business. No one seems to be minding me. I looked around puzzled, making it look like I was searching for someone I had lost, then sighed and made my way quickly to the front entrance, looking like I had given up waiting.

  I took in a breath, holding it, my back and neck tingling, waiting for the hand on my shoulder as I whipped open the door, feeling the cold, damp night air on my face, telling me it was freedom – if I can get moving through it without getting caught! I headed off towards the path leading to the bus stop, with the high wall around the area, keeping the shopping area enclosed.

  I stopped just as I got close to the area with the trees and bushes on my left. I bent down, pretending to fix me bag, and lifted me head, taking in everything around me. I peeled me eyes back to the shopping area. No! It’s dark around here, no one is coming down this way. Most people shopping here have their own cars; they don’t need to take the bus.

  Right! I stood up quickly and tore over to the bushes. I looked around. Where’s the best spot? I hid the big bags under a clump of bushes, then took notice of the tree. It’s the third one in. Right! Move! My nerves started rattling as I made me way back to the shop. There’s no turning back, Martha. You have to finish the job! I thought, as me mind flitted on the idea of quitting while I’m ahead. No! Keep moving.

  I pushed in the entrance door, seeing the place was really getting crowded. People were at a standstill, waiting for the crowd to shift so they could get moving. I picked me way carefully through them, putting my hand on shoulders, then fitting me way through. People squeezed up to let me past.