by Judi Curtin
Dedication
In memory of my grandmothers
– Julianne and Mary Anne
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Lissadell History Note
Other Books by Judi Curtin
Copyright
September 1913
Chapter One
‘I dare you, Lily!’ said Rose.
Hanora didn’t say anything, but she’s not brave like Rose and me. I knew she didn’t think my idea was a good one.
‘Do it,’ said Rose. ‘Martin thinks he’s so great ever since his daddy bought that cow. Look at him over there with a whole bottle of milk to himself and his bread with cheese and butter on it.’
I looked at the boy sitting on the only bench in the schoolyard, with his lunch all spread out around him. For a minute I imagined what life would be like if my family owned a cow. My little sister Winnie could have cream for breakfast and her thin cheeks would fill out and maybe her cough would get better.
‘It might be funny,’ said Hanora. ‘But Martin will go mad.’
‘All the more reason to do it,’ I said, laughing. ‘And anyway, he’s always bullying the little ones and playing tricks on them so it’s time he learned his lesson. Are you two coming to watch?’
‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ said Rose.
I ran over to the fence where the ground was all mucky, and scooped a small bit of dirt into my left hand. Then, with my friends one step behind me, I walked towards the biggest, scariest boy in the whole school.
Martin’s mouth was full of bread and cheese when we stopped in front of him. Rose and Hanora were giggling nervously and he didn’t like that.
‘What’s so funny?’ he asked, spraying us with soggy, cheesy crumbs.
Hanora was right, I realised – Martin would go mad. I was a little bit scared, but I didn’t want my friends to see me back down – they expect me to be brave and funny all the time.
‘There’s something on your face, Martin,’ said Rose, nudging me. ‘It looks like muck.’
Martin wiped his already clean face with the back of his hand.
‘Up a bit,’ said Rose.
‘And a bit more to the side,’ I added. My fear was slipping away and I was starting to enjoy myself.
Martin was still rubbing his face as I took a step closer. ‘No, it’s on the other side,’ I said, pointing with my right hand. ‘Will I wipe it off for you?’
Before he could answer, I reached out and ran my mucky left hand all the way down his cheek, leaving a dark brown stain.
‘There,’ I said. ‘All clean again. You’re welcome, Martin.’
I’m used to playing tricks, and the most important part is keeping my face perfectly serious, but Rose and Hanora were laughing so much they looked as if they were going to die. Some of the other boys came over to see what was going on.
‘What happened your face, Martin?’ said one. ‘It’s all mucky.’
‘I know you love your cow,’ said another boy. ‘But does she sleep in your house with you these days?’
Martin stood up, looking confused. ‘But Lily wiped…’
He stopped talking and I could imagine wheels turning in his brain as he slowly realised what had happened.
For a second I felt sorry for him. I didn’t really mean him any harm – I only wanted to make my friends laugh. I held out my hanky so he could clean his face, but he didn’t seem to want it.
‘I’m going to kill you, Lily,’ he said.
‘You’ll have to catch me first,’ I called, as I ran off towards the other side of the yard.
‘Don’t bother with her, Martin,’ shouted one of the boys after me. ‘She’s only a stupid girl.’
I wasn’t ‘only’ a girl, and I definitely wasn’t stupid, but when I looked back over my shoulder, I was glad to see that Martin wasn’t chasing me.
Hanora and Rose were breathless by the time they caught up with me. ‘Come on,’ panted Hanora. ‘Playtime must be nearly over, and we haven’t done any skipping yet.’
Before it was our turn to skip, two small girls came over and pulled at my skirt.
‘She pushed me, Lily!’
‘Only ’cause she pulled my hair first.’
‘But that’s ’cause she called me stupid-face.’
‘She called me a b…b….baby – and that’s not nice – tell her, Lily.’
The two little girls were crying by now, and it was hard to understand what they were saying.
‘Hush now,’ I said, taking out my hanky and wiping their dirty little faces. ‘Pushing and hair-pulling and name calling are bold – and you’re not bold girls, are you?’
The two heads shook.
‘No one’s stupid,’ I said. ‘And I don’t see any babies around here. All I can see are two little girls who love to be tickled. Who wants to go first?’
The two little girls screamed as they held hands and ran away across the schoolyard.
Hanora and Rose laughed. ‘You’re so good with the little ones, Lily,’ said Rose. ‘You always know how to make them forget their fights.’
‘She’s right,’ said Hanora. ‘You’re going to be a great teacher.’
‘Thank you,’ I said. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. All I wanted was to be a teacher – it was my favourite daydream, and sometimes I even let myself imagine that one day it would really come true.
* * *
In the classroom, Martin was staring at me and shaking his fist, but I didn’t care. Martin acts tough, but I knew he was afraid of the Master, and wouldn’t dare to come near me.
First we had arithmetic, and I got nearly all of my sums right. As usual, Rose and Hanora were the best in the class, and the Master gave them each a gold star in their copy books. I wasn’t jealous, though, because I’m always best at reading and writing – and Mam says no one likes you if you’re best at everything.
For the last hour of school, the Master brought the boys outside to play ball, while Miss O’Brien took the girls for sewing. Rose hates sewing and asked if she could play ball instead. She was wasting her time because the Master said no, and all the boys laughed at her. Sewing time is my favourite though. We sit in a big circle and we’re let talk to the people next to us, or sometimes Miss O’Brien reads us a story. Hanora and I can do small, neat stitches so we’re allowed to sew on real material, cut from old rags. Rose and everyone else have to do their sewing on squares of newspaper so their hands get all black.
Rose, Hanora and I were whispering together when Miss O’Brien came over and asked to see our sewing. ‘That’s beautiful – as usual, Lily and Hanora,’ she said to us, when we held our work out.
When Miss O’Brien saw Rose’s work it was a different story. She slapped her knuckles hard with a ruler, and took the scrap of paper from her. ‘That’s only fit for the bin, Rose,’ she said, marching to the corner of the room. ‘So I’ll put it where it belongs.’
I put my arm around my friend. ‘I don’t care,’ she whispered to me as she rubbed her sore ha
nd. ‘Sewing is stupid – and so is Miss O’Brien.’
When I’m a teacher, I’m never going to be like that. I will help the children who aren’t very good at things, and I will never, ever slap anyone.
* * *
After school, Rose, Hanora and I stayed back to help the Master tidy the classroom. It was my turn to fill up the inkwells so Rose and Hanora tidied and swept and the Master put all the books back on the shelf.
‘Soon we’ll be lighting the fire,’ said the Master. ‘And that will mean more work for us.’
I love wintertime when the classroom is all cosy with the fire lighting. Mam hates it though, as everyone has to bring in a sod of turf, and we scarcely have enough for ourselves.
‘And have you all got your stories ready for Monday morning?’ asked the Master.
‘Mine’s nearly finished,’ said Hanora.
‘Mine’s … well … I know what it’s going to be about,’ said Rose, who usually left things until the last minute.
‘I’ve had mine ready for ages,’ I said.
I’d started writing as soon as the Master told us that we had to read our work out to the whole class. My story was about three girls who get lost in the woods and find a tunnel into a secret underground world – where all their dreams come true. I knew the Master would love my story. I knew he’d smile at me, and tell me what a good writer I was, and write ‘excellent’ at the end of the page in his beautiful handwriting. I like Saturdays and Sundays, but I couldn’t wait for Monday to come.
Chapter Two
‘Lily, are you still awake?’
‘Yes, Mam, but don’t wake Denis and Jimmy, they have the legs nearly kicked off me with their fighting.’
She sat down on the edge of the bed, and I could see her thin face in the flickering light of the candle.
‘Lily, I have something to tell you.’
‘What is it?’ I asked as I sat up, suddenly feeling important. I treasured these quiet times when everyone else was asleep, and it was just Mam and me.
‘You won’t be going to school on Monday,’ she said.
‘But I can’t miss school! I want to get a ribbon for attendance this year – and I’ve written a story specially, and I’m going to read it out to the whole class, and …’
‘I’m sorry, pet.’
I felt tears coming to my eyes, but how could I make a fuss about missing one single day? Mam had so much to do and she was always tired. Maybe she needed me to help with the washing, and the vegetable patch and taking care of my two little sisters. Anne could be very bold, and Winnie was sickly, and cried a lot.
‘If you need me to help you on Monday, I don’t mind staying home, Mam,’ I said. ‘Maybe the Master will let me read my story on Tuesday instead, if I tell him what happened. Maybe …’
‘Oh, Lily,’ said Mam. ‘You won’t be going to school on Tuesday either.’
‘But––’
‘You won’t be going to school any more.’
‘But––’
‘You’ll be starting work. It’s all arranged.’
I probably shouldn’t have been surprised. I was the oldest girl in the whole school, and while I dreamed of staying on for another year or two, and one day becoming a teacher myself, at heart I knew that was foolish thinking. Ever since Daddy died, I’d known that my school days would be cut short so I could help Mam to support the family.
Over the past year, I had watched as my friends left school to start work. In the springtime Rose would be moving to Sligo to work in her uncle’s shop. As soon as her aunt sent money for the ticket, Hanora would be leaving for America, where all her big sisters and brothers were. Everything was changing much too fast for me.
‘I know you’d like to stay on at school, pet,’ said Mam. ‘But that’s impossible. This way I won’t have to feed you, and your wages will be such a big help to us.’
I thought about my schoolbag, safely on the highest shelf, away from Anne’s meddling fingers. I thought about my special story, and how much I wanted to read it out for the class. I could feel tears coming again, but how could I cry? How could I complain, when Mam had been raising five of us on her own since Daddy died? How could I complain when she barely slept, and barely ate, and worked all day long, caring for us?
‘Where am I going to work?’ I asked quietly.
‘It’s a good position,’ said Mam. ‘In Lissadell.’
I’d never been to Lissadell, but I knew about it – everyone did. It was the biggest and fanciest house in our part of Sligo.
‘But how did …?’
‘Your Uncle John knows one of the estate workers, and he arranged everything.’
Then I remembered something else. ‘Lissadell is miles away. How will I walk all the way there, and do a day’s work, and then walk home again before dark? Even if I walk my very fastest, that would be impossible.’
‘Ah, pet,’ said Mam. ‘You won’t be coming home at night. You’ll be sleeping there – it’s the only way.’
Now I did start to cry, remembering to be quiet about it so the little ones wouldn’t wake.
‘But I don’t want to go,’ I sobbed. ‘I want to stay here with you, Mam. I can help you in the garden, so we’ll be able to grow more food. I can––’
Mam leaned down and hugged me.
‘It’s how things have to be, Lily,’ she said. ‘You’ll be leaving tomorrow afternoon, so you’ll be ready to start work on Sunday.’
‘But why didn’t you tell me before now?’
‘Maybe I should have, but I wanted you to enjoy your childhood for as long as you could.’
Was Mam saying that now I was an adult? If being an adult meant moving away and living far from everyone I knew, then I’d prefer to be a child forever.
‘It’s not too far away,’ said Mam. ‘And you’ll have every Saturday off, so you’ll be able to come and see us.’
‘I will only see you on Saturdays?’
I’d never been away for even a day before, and the thought of six whole days without my family terrified me.
‘A whole day off is very generous – many houses allow their servants only a half day free. You’re a lucky girl.’
I didn’t feel lucky. I felt as if my life was over. Mam kissed me good-night, and then she took the candle and tiptoed from the room.
Chapter Three
‘I think I’ll do the washing today,’ said Mam in the morning.
‘But it’s not Monday,’ I said.
‘No matter. It’s a grand sunny day and the sheets will dry in no time.’
Mam loves when the two of us do jobs together. She loves the way we chat, and the way I make her laugh. Suddenly I understood how much she was going to miss me.
‘I’ll help you,’ I said. ‘Between the two of us we’ll have the washing done in no time.’
And so we set to work, as my brothers and sisters played in the sunshine.
I usually hate doing the washing. The rubbing and wringing hurts my hands, and carrying the wet clothes makes my back ache. That day, though, I wished the washing would never be finished. I wanted to stay there with my mam forever, scrubbing and rubbing all the long days.
Mam was extra-kind to me. When the washing was done, she spent ages brushing and plaiting my hair and she gave me extra colcannon at dinnertime.
* * *
Soon it was time for me to go.
‘You could run over to see Rose and Hanora,’ said Mam. ‘You can tell them all about your new job.’
I shook my head. How could I say goodbye to my friends without crying like a little baby?
‘No,’ I said. ‘Will you tell them where I’m gone – and that I’ll see them next week?’
‘I understand,’ said Mam, and I felt tears coming to my eyes. Mam knew me so well. She could always guess when I had a headache, or felt sad about something. She knew when I needed a hug and a kiss, even if I hadn’t said a word. Mam had loved me all my life long, and now I had to go off into the world without her.
* * *
No one in our family had ever owned a suitcase so I had to use my schoolbag. I took the story I had written and hid it under the mattress. Maybe one day, things would be different, and I could go back to school. I put my reading book on the table in the kitchen and told the boys they could use it. ‘But no scribbling or tearing pages, mind,’ I said. ‘It has to stay good enough for Winnie and Anne to have when they are older.’
Into the bag I put my change of clothes, my nightgown, my hairbrush and my prayer book.
Winnie and Anne cried when I told them I was leaving. They didn’t understand how long a week was, and I think they would have cried more if they had known the truth. Half an hour is a long time when you’re little like them.
I knew the girls would miss me. Winnie always sat on my knee in the mornings before I went to school, because I was the only one who could persuade her to eat up all her porridge. Sometimes I could even get Anne to behave herself, with hardly any backchat at all.
The boys were too old for crying, but I knew they’d miss me too. I was the one who helped Denis with his sums, and Jimmy with his reading. I was the one who sorted out their silly fights. I was the one who washed their cut knees when Mam was too busy to help.
What would they all do without me?
Would Denis know that he had to be a help to Mam, now that he was the oldest child in the house?
Would any of them know how to make her laugh, when all the work and hardship was too much for her and it looked as if she was going to cry?
‘Before you know it, it’ll be Saturday again, Lily,’ said Mam. ‘And you’ll be back to see us. We might not even recognise you. I suppose you’ll be talking all fancy and will be full of airs and graces.’
I knew she was trying to make me feel better, but it wasn’t working.
‘Be a good girl,’ she said. ‘Do everything they tell you, and never forget your place. Don’t let them see your skittish side – they won’t like that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh, Lily, you know we love every single bit of you. We love how you joke with us and make us laugh – but in Lissadell, they won’t want to see that. You’re there to work, not to entertain them.’
