Ma, He Sold Me for a Few Cigarettes (66 page)

Read Ma, He Sold Me for a Few Cigarettes Online

Authors: Martha Long

Tags: #ma, he sold me for a few cigarettes, #Dublin, #seven stories press, #1950s, #poverty, #homelessness, #abuse, #rape, #labor, #ireland, #martha long, #memoir, #autobiography, #biography, #series, #history, #poor, #slums

BOOK: Ma, He Sold Me for a Few Cigarettes
9.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘How old are you, Martha?'

I hesimitated, wonderin if I could say I was fourteen. I looked up at him. ‘Eh, fourteen!'

His mouth fell open, an he threw his head back an roared laughin. ‘You're a canny one, no doubt! But I would say you're about seven or eight years old.'

‘I'm ten!' I screamed.

He laughed again, ‘Probably, but you're very small for your age.'

I felt like cryin. This was goin from bad te worse. I'll never grow up an be free. I looked at the people rushin aroun me. All goin about their business. No one te bother them. We walked inta the police station, it was beside the trains. An there were men in blue shirts sittin at typewriters clickin away an writin at a big table. They all looked up when my policeman shouted an laughed, ‘Look what I found!' They said nothin but just stared at me. Then one got up from writin at the table an whispered somethin te me policeman. I stood waitin. Then he turned te me an put me sittin on a chair beside the table an sat down beside me. ‘Right! Where were you going to?'

‘Me ma sent me te London te stay wit her brother in Hemel Hempstead.'

‘What's the address?'

‘I don't know, she didn't give it te me.'

He stared at me. ‘Where is your suitcase?'

‘She didn't give me one.'

‘So no address, no clothes. Have you any money?'

‘No!'

‘And so you have no money! You've run away from home, haven't you?'

‘No! Me ma sent me.'

‘What's your home address in Ireland?'

I said nothin.

‘Look, we know you've run away from home. And you will be reported missing. So you might as well tell us the truth now and get it over with.'

I knew tha wasn't true, so I stayed quiet.

‘Who gave you the beating? Was it your father? Is that why you ran away?'

‘No! I didn't run away. I'm tellin the truth.'

‘Well, then, give me your address in Ireland, because we have to contact your parents. Then if they tell us you didn't run away, we can find out where your uncle lives in Hemel Hempstead.'

I gave them me address in Dublin, an the policeman went off, leavin me sittin there. I was tired waitin an put me head in me arms an went te sleep on the table. I woke up when the man nudged me an gave me a glass of milk an two sambidges wit egg an tomatoes. I ate them in a flash, not realisin I was starved wit the hunger.

‘It's been four hours now,' he said, sittin down beside me. ‘Are you sure you gave us the right address?'

‘Yes! I gave ye the right address!'

He shook his head. ‘That's strange, we should have contacted them by now. And there was no report of you being missing at the police station.'

I looked at him but said nothin.

‘Perhaps they have gone out to Mass?'

I said nothin.

Hours passed, an every now an then the man came in lookin more an more confused. ‘Still no word! We have been in constant contact with the Dublin police, but they say they can't get a response to their knocking at the door. They know the family, and they are familiar with you. It appears you like butter, lots of it!' An he shook his head, starin at me an thinkin, but said nothin.

I kept quiet, knowin full well they were in but wouldn't open the door. They do this all the time when I get caught an I'm brought te the police station fer robbin the butter. Eventually Jackser might appear at one o'clock in the mornin te claim me, lookin like he wanted te murder me fer gettin caught, an sit there sayin nothin while I make a statement an sign me name te it. An then I'll have te appear in the Children's Court. An I always tell the same story. Tha I robbed the butter te sell fer money te buy meself sweets. They don't believe me, but they can't prove it was Jackser an me ma who sent me. Cos I never admit tha. I always stick te me story or else me ma would be sent te prison along wit Jackser. He swore he would bring her down wit him, an me ma an the rest of the childre would be locked up in a home. So I can't tell on him. I can't tell anyone wha he does te me. An this policeman is worried an confused why me ma an Jackser hasn't claimed me. But he's respectable an kind. An I would die of shame if he knew the truth of wha me ma an Jackser were really like. He just wouldn't understand.

The English police are more like you'd expect your daddy te be. They laugh an joke an don't pretend te be as important wit themselves as the Irish police. But the Irish police are not bad te me. They just leave me sittin at the table in the office an then forget about me. I could be sittin there fer ten or twelve hours, an they wouldn't say a word te me until Jackser finally decides te arrive. They don't really care. But here I'm really bein minded, an I'm beginnin te enjoy meself. So far I've got a lovely red rosy apple an a bar of chocolate.

‘Here, take this and go out and buy yourself a comic.' I looked at the shiny half-crown an couldn't believe it! ‘Buy whatever you want! Spend it all. And then come straight back.' I looked up happily at the policeman, an then he smiled. ‘Go on, off with you!'

I staggered out the door. Me back felt like a red-hot poker, an me legs was stiff, but I felt warm in me belly, cos the policeman trusted me, an he didn't think I was a criminal any more. Now it was like I was on me holidays. An no Jackser or butter te worry about.

30

The day dragged on, an now I was tired. I couldn't lie down an have a sleep. Me head was throbbin an felt very hot. An I could do nothin but sit an wait an look up at the big clock on the wall tha went tick tock, hopin tha when it hit the right time, somethin might happen, whatever tha was.

I had two big black eyes. I saw tha in the mirror in the tilet. An me eyes hurt, an me face was very sore an swollen. I got a bit of a shock when I saw the state of meself. I don't want people seein me lookin like this. Earlier, the policeman said they were goin te get the doctor te look at me. But I said I was grand, an he said, just te be on the safe side, I could have somethin broken or have a head injury! But I went mad an started te make an awful fuss. So they left it. Me nerves were gone, cos Jackser never lets me near a doctor. An if they found out, me ma would go te prison, an the poor childre would suffer. No, it's not worth tha! I'm goin te have te be careful or I can find meself in a lot of trouble. The authorities are very quick te put ye in a home. I've seen too many put away.

Still no word! The policeman yawned an stretched. It was late in the day now. I lifted me head off the table an tried te look up at him. I felt so sick, the weight of me head. ‘OK,' he said, lookin at me. ‘We'll have to sort somethin out!' An off he went. Tick tock, the only sound. The policeman mutterin in another room lifted me a bit. Maybe he's goin te do somethin. Then I can move an maybe lie down. It was very quiet here, nothin te take me mind off meself. He came back wit two men followin behind him. They had ordinary suits on. ‘All right, darling! You go with these two men, and they will take you somewhere nice to stay until we can contact your family.' An he very gently helped me off the chair an put me on me feet. I was dizzy an everythin was blurred. But I steadied meself until I got straight again an smiled at him. ‘Are you OK?' he asked me, bendin down an lookin inta me face.

‘Yeah! I'm grand, not a bother on me.'

He looked at the two men. ‘Maybe you should have her checked out at the hospital?'

Me heart pounded, an I saw stars at the fright. ‘No! No! Please! I'm grand, just a little bit tired, tha's all. Don't worry, I'm always fallin an bangin inta things. I fell down the stairs in the ship. Some drunks got sick, but there's not a bother on me.' I looked up at them, pleadin. Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Don't let them make trouble fer me ma. Please, God! I prayed te meself.

‘OK, take her over. We can keep an eye on her. She needs rest, too, anyway. A bit of a kip should see her right.'

Oh, thank God! I let me breath out an started te shuffle off, tryin te keep me back straight an get everyone movin before they change their minds again an land me in God knows wha.

We went out the door, an the policeman waved after me, tellin me not te worry. ‘You don't worry, darling! These two men will take good care of you. Everything will be fine!'

I smiled an waved back. He could read me mind. I wanted te rush back an snuggle up close te him an stay there an never have a care in the world. He was a real daddy, an I felt lonely leavin him behind. But I couldn't let him find out anythin. An I wish I didn't have these worries. It's such an awful pity ye'd know I got a batterin. Cos if me face wasn't such an awful show, I could be enjoyin meself, an no one would be any the wiser.

I turned away, followin the two big men. An we got inta a big black car. I sat on the long back seat an snuggled down. The springs was lovely, an I could feel the soft leather. We flew through the city, an I could see all the big buildins an shops. But me mind wasn't on them. I was worried about wha was goin te happen te me.

We stopped outside a big house an drove in through the gates, an I could see the huge mansion through the trees. I looked back, an the man from the house at the gates was closin them again. Jaysus! Where are we goin? I'm goin te be locked up. I leaned forward, wantin te say somethin, the fear risin up in me. But I didn't want te upset them. I held me breath, me heart poundin. I'll wait te see wha happens! Take it easy. I sat back, all me senses on alert. We pulled up, the car makin a noise on the stones an scatterin them.

‘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.'

Other books

Surviving Scotland by Kristin Vayden
Undercurrents by Robert Buettner
The Pied Piper by Ridley Pearson
From Ashes by Molly McAdams
Danger Guys on Ice by Tony Abbott
The Pigeon Spy by Terry Deary
Which Way to Die? by Ellery Queen
Mistaken Engagement by Jenny Schwartz
Fall Into You by Roni Loren