Ma, He Sold Me for a Few Cigarettes (79 page)

‘Oh! Tha's shockin,' she said. I ignored them, an the rest of the people, all gapin. I wish she wasn't actin so foolish. Ye'd think she was a young one, the way she's carryin on. Not like a mammy should.

‘Is this your little daughter?' he asked me ma.

‘Eh?' said me ma.

‘Yes, I am!' I roared. An I was just about te tell him she had five more when I saw the look on me ma's face. An I knew I'd hurt her. I'd said enough. An I turned back te the winda. They went quiet then an started talkin about the weather.

‘This is our stop,' me ma said, gettin up. I took hold a the bag an dragged it down the bus, leavin the conductor te help me ma off.

‘Be seein you!' he winked at me ma, holdin out his hands, still feelin the weight of me ma in them.

She was laughin. ‘Wait, take yer time!' she said, clatterin after me. I was holdin the bag wit me two hands an tryin te get ahead so people wouldn't know I was wit her. ‘Hold on, me nylons!' An she stopped again te pull up her skirt.

‘Ah, fuck off!' I screamed, makin a show of meself an not carin who heard me.

I puffed me way inta the station. This bleedin bag is too big an awkward te carry! I stopped an looked aroun, most of the seats was taken up. A lot a them by down an outs. I pushed past an aul woman takin up a whole bench te herself wit all her old newspapers an rags tied up wit bits a twine.

An aul fella in a dirty raincoat wit a shoppin bag under his arm an a greasy aul cap pulled down over his eyes, an a cigarette stickin outa his mouth, leanin against the pillar an watchin everythin goin on, spotted me, an his face lit up. I saw him look aroun te see if anyone was wit me. An he slowly made his way in my direction. I stopped an stared right back at him, givin him a dirty look. An he stopped an looked away, surprised I was onta him, but he didn't move off. He would wait fer a chance te try an get me if he thought I was on me own. I watched the door, waitin fer me ma. ‘There ye are!' she shouted, wavin an laughin at me. When she appeared, I watched yer man move off in a hurry an disappear out the other door when he saw I wasn't on me own.

‘Come on, Ma. Let's go inta the tilet, an you can change outa them things.'

‘Yeah! An it's not soon enough fer me,' she muttered.

‘Ah, tha's more comfortable,' she said, sittin down in her frock an coat an flat shoes. ‘We'll sit down here an watch fer the train comin in. We can see wha's happenin from here.

‘Right! The queue is beginnin te move, Martha. We'll walk over slowly an wait our chance. You take one side of the bag, an as soon as he's busy, we'll make a move.'

‘Quick, Ma!' We pushed forward as he was pointin out directions fer a train te some woman.

‘Platform four, Madam!' he was sayin as he turned in our direction.

‘Keep movin, Ma. I think he's seen us.'

‘Jaysus! Is he lookin?'

‘I don't know. Let's move faster.'

We were nearly gallopin, wit the bag bangin against me legs. I kept me eyes on the open door an held on until me ma jumped up, then I let go of the bag. Me ma nearly tumbled out wit the weight of it overbalancin her. She screamed an grabbed a hold of the bar, half in an half out. I rushed forward, givin her a push back, an she landed on her arse, takin the bag wit her. ‘Fuck ye, anyway!' she roared at me, tryin te get up off her arse. ‘Ye nearly kilt me!'

‘Come on, Ma! Get up! Are ye hurt?'

‘No thanks te you I'm not!' An she stood up, rubbin her back an arse, an brushed her coat down. ‘Come on, we'll get an empty seat an have the bit a comfort while we can. He won't be along fer a while.'

We were flyin outa London, an I sat back in me seat, enjoyin watchin all the houses an buildins flashin past, an smoke blowin outa the chimneys, when me ma stood up, gettin nervous. ‘Come on, Martha, we'd better go. We can't take the chance of the ticket man catchin us here.'

‘No! Ye're right,' I said, lookin back at the people sittin in their comfortable seats, enjoyin themselves at their ease, lookin out the winda.

We made our way te the tilet an locked the door. ‘Say a prayer he doesn't catch us,' me ma said, leanin against the wall. I sat down on the bag, cos it was takin up most of the room, an we stayed quiet, waitin te hear the ticket collector. Charlie's face came inta me mind, an me heart fell down inta me belly. An all the other childre. Oh, dear God, please look after them. If only we had them wit us. But we'd have nowhere te bring them. We have te try an find somewhere te live. Then me ma can take them as fast as possible. I feel terrible in meself, leavin them behind te the mercy of Jackser. But I couldn't bear te stay wit him. I had te run an take me chances wit me ma. It's hell on earth fer the poor little things not knowin wha's happened te them. They must be sick an cryin day an night fer me ma. We have te do somethin. But wha? I'm afraid te ask me ma in case she takes it inta her head te run back te Jackser. So I'd better keep quiet. We have te find somewhere first an then start plannin. Yeah! We have te do tha. We sat lookin at each other an listenin. People moved up an down the passage, an then we'd hold our breath when we heard a knock. Time was passin, hours an hours. We didn't talk, just sat, me ma dozin on her feet, restin her back against the wall.

At last the train pulled in. ‘We're here, Ma!'

‘Right, get ready,' me ma whispered.

She opened the door an went out first. ‘Come on!' she whispered. ‘They're gettin off.'

We walked wit the crowds an got through the ticket collectors, me goin first, an me ma pushin behind me. ‘We made it, Ma!'

‘Yeah! Let's get a bus over te the Social Welfare.

‘This is it!' me ma said, lookin up at the buildin. We went in, an me ma said, ‘You sit down here an mind the bag.' She pointed te a bench. I sat down an watched me ma go over te a hatch an sit down talkin te a man. I tried te listen, but I can't hear wha they're sayin. The man was talkin te me ma an then lookin at me. I wonder should I go over an see if I can help her. The man keeps shakin his head like he's sayin there's nothin he can do. An me ma looks worried. She keeps lookin from side te side like she's not able te get through te him. Then he gets up an walks aroun te me. An me ma gets up an comes over an takes the bag off me.

‘Will you come with me, please?' an he takes me arm.

‘Eh, Martha!' me ma is standin lookin like she's in shock.

‘Wha, Ma? Wha's happenin?'

‘Come with me, please,' the man says, pullin me arm. I hesimitate, me heart in me mouth.

‘They're sayin ye have te go inta a home until I find accommodation.'

‘A home, Ma!' The room starts te blur, an me ma doesn't know wha te say or do. I let meself get taken by the man inta an office. An he's talkin on the telephone an says I'm te sit down on a chair at a table an wait. Me ears are roarin, an me heart is pumpin, an I can't take in wha's happenin. Time is passin, an I sit here while the man fiddles wit papers an writes an talks on the telephone. How did this happen? Why did we come here? Me ma said we'd get help, but this is worse than the police.

The door opened, an a woman wit grey hair an a thin baldin man wit glasses came in. They spoke te the man, tellin him I was goin te some place. But nothin they're sayin is makin any sense te me. I can't hear the words, only a buzzin noise in me head. I'm tryin te get me senses back, but everythin is just a confused jumble. ‘Come along!' the woman says, wit a half-smile on her face. An she opens the door, waitin fer me te follow her. I move after her, keepin me eyes down. An we go out a different way. An I can't see me mammy. ‘In you get!' an the woman pushes me inta a car an gets in the back beside me.

The car moves off, an I don't see anythin. I stare at me boots. Wha's goin te happen te me? How long will they keep me? The car stops outside a big house, an a woman opens the door. She smiles, lookin down at me, an then te the grey-haired woman. I don't look at her but past her inta an empty space. ‘Come in,' she says, rushin me through a hall an down a flight of stairs an inta a brightly lit room. An a young one wit fluffy slippers an a dressin gown shouts, ‘Hello' at me. ‘Come and meet Nettie,' the woman says te me. ‘She's been waiting up for you. And she's the oldest girl at sixteen.'

The girl's face drops when she sees me. ‘Oh! You're very small for thirteen, isn't she, Mum?'

‘Yes! We were expecting to see a much bigger girl.'

I dropped me head, lookin at the floor an thinkin, I'm even small fer eleven. They're goin te know me ma is tellin a pack a lies. An they'll find out who we really are, an then we'll be in serious trouble. Me head started te pound, an I felt like gettin sick.

‘Would you like a cup of tea an some bread an jam, Mary?' the woman asked me.

I looked at her, an she was waitin fer an answer. Oh! Is tha supposed te be me name? ‘No, thanks,' I muttered, keepin me head down.

‘What pop groups do you like?' the young one asked me.

I shook me shoulders, not knowin anythin about pop groups.

‘Do you like films?'

‘Yes,' I said, feelin shy.

‘What film stars do you like? I like Tony Curtis!'

I said nothin. I wanted te say Shirley Temple, but she would have said I was foolish. The young one looked at the woman, an they kept givin each other looks, wonderin wha te make a me. ‘Up to bed with you, Nettie. You've stayed long past your bedtime,' said the woman.

‘Yes, Mam! G'night, Mary.'

‘Night!' I muttered, an she rushed outa the room.

‘She's disappointed you're not a big girl. She was hoping for someone her own age,' said the woman.

I said nothin, feelin foolish.

‘Follow me, and I'll show you where you're sleeping.'

I followed her up the stairs an along a passage. She opened a door an switched on a dim light. ‘Over here,' she whispered, bringin me over te a corner bed under a winda. ‘Here's a nightdress. Get changed and be quiet! Everyone is sleeping.' Then she left.

I woke up te shoutin. I shot up in the bed, an two young ones were fightin. ‘Oh, give it back! That's mine,' said a young one of about eight, tryin te pull a teddy bear off another one of about ten. ‘That's my Paddington Bear!'

‘No, it ain't! You give it to me, or I'll bite you!' screamed the younger one.

A woman came inta the room. ‘Come on, down to breakfast, now!'

‘Auntie! She's got my Paddington Bear!'

‘Katie! Give Renee back her bear,' an the woman snatched it off Katie an pushed her out the door. Katie looked back, stickin her tongue out at Renee. I got outa bed an started te get dressed. ‘Come on, Renee,' shouted the woman up the stairs.

‘What's your name?' asked Renee, lookin at me.

‘Mary,' I said, thinkin first.

‘How old are you?'

‘Thirteen.'

‘You don't look that!'

I said nothin.

‘Where are you from?'

‘Ireland!' I said. ‘Dublin!'

Then the auntie put her head in the door an said, ‘Come on, slow coach! Mary, come for your breakfast.'

I followed them down the stairs an inta a big kitchen wit two long tables full a childre.

‘You sit here,' a baldy man sittin at the top of the table said te me, pointin at an empty chair. I sat down, an he closed his eyes an joined his hands. An everyone started te sing, ‘Thank you, God, for the food we eat, for the flowers that grow, for the birds that sing'. Then everyone started te eat. I put the knife in me mouth, eatin me sausage. An he let a roar at me. ‘Take that knife out of your mouth!' I jumped, an he looked at me sayin, ‘Never put a knife in your mouth! You will slice your tongue off! Sarah!' he roared at the other table. ‘Elbows off the table and sit up straight. And stop giggling, Rebecca.'

Everyone was quiet, an the man an woman talked, eatin their breakfast. Then it was over, an everyone rushed off te get ready fer school. The man got up an left, then everyone disappeared. An I was left at the table listenin te the noise comin from somewhere in the house, an the bangin an thumpin of feet on the ceilin, an then the slammin of doors. An then the house was quiet.

The two women came inta the kitchen an started talkin. I didn't look at them, an they ignored me as if I wasn't there. I wondered what I should do. So I waited, but nothin was said te me. Then they started te clean the tables, an the auntie told me te go outside an play, an she opened the back door inta a yard. ‘Sit on that bench,' she said, ‘and don't move.'

I went outside an looked aroun. There was only a high wall wit a bench against it facin the kitchen winda, an a concrete ground. I sat on the bench, not movin. An I saw her at the winda washin the dishes an preparin the dinner, peelin the vegebales an keepin her eye on me. I had nothin te look at, an she was watchin me. I had the feelin they didn't like me. An I couldn't understand their ways, either. Me stomach keeps churnin at the thought of me an me ma in trouble. Where is she? An wha's happened te her? An wha's goin te happen te me? Will I ever see me ma again?

All mornin I've been sittin here now, an me legs are stiff, but I'm afraid te move. The wall is high, but I'm sure if I stood up on the bench an had a leap at the top of the wall, I could get up there an take me chances jumpin down on the other side. I could try it when the auntie turns her back. But even if I got away, how would I find me mammy? I wouldn't know where te start lookin. No! It's best I stay here an wait. She'll know where te find me. But then tha's only if they tell her. Maybe they won't tell her where I am! An if they do catch me tryin te escape, they won't give me a second chance. They'll probably lock me up somewhere else or watch me even more closely. No! I'll wait te see wha happens. More time passes, an the watery sun is movin away. It's gettin very chilly here now, an I can't stop meself worryin.