Day 17
It turned out that the nurse, Sister McKenzie, is quite nice. Thought her stuck up and cruel, throwing me out every night at end of visiting. Only doing her job I suppose. She brought tea and biscuits tonight when I'd missed the trolley-bus, which was good of her. And the way she tidies your bed shows she's kind, I suppose
She seemed happy to chat about your brothers and sisters, and I said they wanted to come to see you. I never expected her to say they could. The hospital's very strict about young ones visiting. I almost burst into tears when she suggested I bring them to the yard below the ward. Said she'd arrange for your bed to be pushed over by the veranda if she knows when they're coming. It wouldn't be a proper visit but at least they'll be able to see you from below. With luck I'll get Billy to come as well.
I'll pick up tonight where I left off. For the first time in eight years I was free of the Sisters with a room to myself and a bit of wages all my own.
*
The Callaghan children were lovely. Patrick was curly haired, affectionate and playful, his sister, Catherine, more reserved. She, at six, was the eldest by two years and carried her responsibilities as older sister heavily. The boy was most like his father, the girl, her mother, both in looks and temperament.
Catherine would follow her brother around, constantly asking if he was all right, and telling him off if he made a mess or was getting under my feet when I was working. His only relief was when she left for school in the morning, but then Mrs Callaghan would take over the watch. She told me one time that the children had been playing on the stairs a couple of years earlier and Catherine had pushed Patrick accidentally. He'd fallen down several steps, banging his head on the floor, and was knocked unconscious. He'd been ill for a week with everyone, including the doctor, thinking the child might not pull through. His mother, father and sister had wrapped him in cotton wool ever since.
Lucky they had the luxury, just two children to worry about. Heavens knows what they'd have done with ten. Here's me, three boys away in the army, babies at home, and feeling guilty about squandering ten penn’orth of extra love on you lying here. I expect if the Almighty decides he doesn't want you just yet, I might cling to you more than the others, who knows?
*
On my second day off, a Thursday it was, I'd enough saved from my wages to take a bus into the city. I'd not seen Danny since we'd been caught by Sister Ursula, months before, and my heart was racing when I stood on the street opposite his shop. Even so, I didn't go across straight away, I was hoping he'd walk out then I'd laugh to see the surprise on his face when he saw me. But he didn't come. Instead, another boy carried a basket out of the back and started to lay meat into the window.
I ran across the road and tapped to grab his attention, waving him to come to the door.
'Is Danny here?'
The boy shook his head. 'He's gone. Not here anymore.'
'Gone where?'
'To the army. In France I heard.'
His words carried on but I heard none of them until he shook my arm and asked if I was all right. I whispered that I was and walked away. I think I asked the boy to tell Danny I'd been looking for him if when came back.
*
I'd been with the Callaghans about two months when I came upon Mrs Callaghan crying at the kitchen table, clutching a letter in her fist. She stood and wiped her eyes when I walked in and I knew it wasn't my place to be asking her what was wrong, so I pretended I hadn't noticed and she left without speaking. Next morning Mr Callaghan came down to breakfast wearing an army uniform. He left a little later, hugging the children and his wife before climbing in to a car and being driven away. Mrs Callaghan watched him from the pavement, waving until he disappeared round the corner. She brought the children inside, asked me to look after them, then went to her room, where I could hear her sobbing all afternoon. She came down for dinner at around six o'clock when her brother, Mr Dominic Kelly, called round. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she looked so pale I was concerned for her.
Mr Kelly was a huge man with a black beard, a hearty laugh and, as his most noticeable feature, a green patch over his left eye. I was told by a maid from one of the neighbouring houses that he'd lost the eye fighting with police during a big strike three years before, though this could just have been her romancing. The other eye had nothing wrong with it and followed me round the room all the time I was serving and clearing up. After this he visited the house three or four times a week, though I'd rarely seen him when his brother-in-law was at home, and at first I thought what a good man he was to come round to support his sister. Then I realised he was constantly watching me, cracking jokes in my direction and throwing in the odd wink when he thought my employer wasn't looking.
He arrived one Friday morning a few weeks later, when Patrick was in school and Mrs Callaghan had taken Catherine on a trip in to the city. I told him they were out when I answered the door, although I thought I remembered Mrs Callaghan mentioning it to him when he'd called on Tuesday.
'Not a bother' he said 'I'll come inside and wait a while. She'll likely be back soon. Make some tea, Maria.'
I scurried in to the kitchen, keen to keep out of his way, but he followed me and took a seat at the table, following me with his one good eye as I boiled the kettle and lifted crockery from the cupboard. The cup rattled so much on its saucer as I carried it across the room I was sure I'd drop it. Mr Kelly said no more until I poured his tea and placed the pot on the stand, then he grabbed my wrist.
'You're a very pretty little thing aren't you girl?' I squealed that I didn't think so and tugged to get away. 'Oh yes you are. Very pretty.'
He was strong and it took him no effort at all to pull me on to his knee then wrap his arm around to stop my struggling.
'Come on now, Maria, be nice,' His sweaty hand was now stroking my cheek and I could smell the drink on him, but I couldn't wriggle free 'I only want a little cuddle.'
'Leave me alone, Mr Kelly. Please.'
But he had no intention of leaving me alone. Instead he squeezed me closer and planted a beery kiss on my lips. When I'd been with Danny I'd dreamed of him kissing me but not like this. There was no tenderness, no love, only a drunken desire for a girl half his age. He only stopped because the front door clattered and Patrick's tiny feet ran up the hall. Kelly was standing in a second, pushing me away.
'You say anything of this to my sister and I'll tell her you're making it up because I told you off. She'll believe me over you and then you'll be out on your ear. No reference, nothing.'
I didn't wait for Patrick or his mother to come in, I didn't know what I might say to her anyway, and ran through the back door into the garden, shaking as the tears ran down my face. It took a full five minutes before I calmed myself enough to go back inside, where the kitchen was now deserted and I could hear Mrs Callaghan calling me on the landing. I shouted from the bottom of the stairs, keeping watchful in case Kelly appeared again.
'I'm here, madam.' I glanced in the hall mirror to make sure I was presentable. 'I was out in the garden gathering a posy.'
She came down wearing a face like thunder.
'I'm very disappointed in you, Maria. My brother says you put him in the parlour and didn't even offer to make him a cup of tea. You also didn't clear the table after you'd finished your own. It isn't good enough and I thought you were getting on so well. If it happens again you'll have to go. Do you hear?'
I didn't answer
'I said, did you hear?'
This time I just sunk my chin to my chest and mumbled an apology. Her brother was right, she'd always believe him over me so there was no point in trying to explain. She told me to go to my room for the rest of the afternoon and think long and hard about my attitude. As I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling I did think long and hard, not on my attitude but about what I was going to do next.
*
I didn't sleep much that night and was dog-tired when I started work in the kitchen, tending the stove and laying the table for breakfast. Mrs Callaghan was very cold with me when she came down and told me more than once to pull myself together.
'This won't do you know' she said 'I thought I'd made it clear last night that you needed to buck up your ideas. It's just not like you but I'll not put up with it for long.'
'Yes, Mrs Callaghan. I'm sorry. I will do better, I promise.'
Why I lied to her I don't know, it just seemed easier than telling the truth. Maybe that's always the case. Me telling lies and stories with no reason.
After her next words I knew I was taking the right step.
'I'm going out again this afternoon. Mrs Darcy has invited the children and I round for tea at four o'clock. Mr Kelly may call again before I get back so you make sure you attend to him properly this time, do you understand?
'Yes Mrs Callaghan.' The words would hardly come out. 'Will I get the children ready for half past three?'
She said that would be good, and seemed pleased that I appeared to be returning to my usual self. I was pleased that it would give me the opportunity to do what I needed with the minimum of fuss.
When my morning jobs were finished I slipped to my room and counted coins on my bed. I'd spent years without any money of my own, and the Callaghans had provided everything I'd needed in the way of food, so I'd been able to save almost all of my wages for the four months I'd been with them. Thirty shillings. I split it in two, rolling twenty tightly in a strip of newspaper and placing it at the bottom of my bag. The rest went into a purse, then my coat pocket.
Patrick and Catherine were in their room when I went down. The girl must have sensed something wasn't quite right.
'Why have you your coat on, Maria are you coming with us?'
I put my finger to my lips and closed the door behind me.
'No, not today. I have to go somewhere on my own. Now let's get you looking nice for Mrs Darcy.'
I washed their hands and faces, brushed their hair and made them put on their coats and outside shoes, then stood back.
'Aren't you two the smartest children. Your mummy will be very proud.'
Mrs Callaghan shouted for them from the hallway. 'Catherine, Patrick, come on now, we have to be on our way.'
I popped my head out of the bedroom. 'Just another minute, madam, they'll be right down.'
I closed the door and threw my arms around them both. 'I may not be here when you come back but don't say anything to Mummy before then will you? I have to take a little trip and I'm not sure how long it will take. You remember Maria in your prayers, won't you? Now off you go, and not a word to Mummy.'
I waited until I heard the front door close behind them, then fetched my bag, looking round my own room for one last time, making sure I didn't leave any of my few possessions behind. On the hall table, I left a short note telling them that I was sorry but that I'd had to leave unexpectedly. I didn't go into the reason, there seemed no point, and just asked them to forgive me for the lack of notice and hoped that they would provide a reference if they were asked for one.
Every day for four months I'd watched the ferries leaving and arriving at Dublin Port across the short stretch of water below my window. After the first week I began to record their times because I knew that one day I'd leave the Callaghans' home, either as my choice or, like now, by having no alternative. I'd spent years skivvying for the sisters and I wasn't about to spend the rest of my life doing it for other people. But what have I done since I married Billy? Year after year of cleaning house and looking after babies, cooking meals and washing dishes from morning 'til night. It's different though. I might not have much choice, just the same as at St Gregory's and Clontarf, but it's the path I chose. For myself. For better or worse.
The bus into the city trundled along tree-lined streets with large houses on either side, giving way to shops, terraces and small workshops as we drew closer to the centre. When we were almost there I checked the stop with the conductor, who was a nice man, and he asked where I was going. When I said I was heading for the port he asked if I was walking or if I wanted the bus. I had a few hours before the next ferry so it made sense for me to save the fare and I said I'd walk.
'Just follow these people here down to the landing stage' he said, pointing to a family near the front with a girl around my old age 'it won't take you long, not with young legs like yours.'
So when the family stood to get off I followed, along with a dozen other people, all carrying suitcases and bags. The area around the docks was as crowded as I remembered it from when I'd arrived with my father, though now there were nearly as many cars, vans and trucks as carts, making even more noise, and belching fumes everywhere. A line of soldiers marched past the queue at the ticket office, heading for a ship down the dock, beyond the ferry, and a sergeant barked orders as they went by. Every man carried a rifle, some laughed and joked, though just as many looked scared for their lives.
A rough youth on the back of a lorry shouted 'Come back lads, the fight's on this side of the water' and the sergeant swore at him, much to the amusement of the queueing travellers.
At the window of the ticket office the official looked me up and down. 'Bit young to be going on your own, aren't you?'
The girl from the bus, who'd gone through before me, called back 'She's not on her own, she's with us. Her dad sent money for her to buy her ticket that's all. We're meeting him on the other side.'
I succeeded in keeping my jaw from dropping, paid the fare, then ran after the girl once I'd stuffed the ticket in my purse with the little left from the ten shillings I'd started with. I thanked her from helping.
'Nosy old crow,' she said 'what does it matter to him if you're running away?'
'Who said I was running away?
She tilted her head and raised both eyebrows 'and you're not?'
'Well maybe.' I laughed and told her my name.
'Pleased to meet you. I'm Betty, Betty Coleman. We're going to Coventry, down the country from Liverpool. My da's got jobs for us there in a munitions factory. He says he's not fit for the army but wants to do his bit.'
I didn't know it then, that there were many like Betty's father, many like the soldiers who'd marched past us, wanting to fight the Germans or help in some way in the war, and there were many like the man shouting at the soldiers, who thought Ireland should be free from England. Soon they might be fighting each other.
The Colemans were a happy bunch, the father, Dan, cracked silly jokes every minute and Betty's mother, Harriet, shrieked with laughter at every one. Their younger children, Micky and Jane giggled the whole time, playing tag and running so close to the edge of the dock my heart was in my mouth, though the parents didn't seem to take notice.
Dan Coleman was a native of Ballina, County Mayo, and he'd moved to Clane, County Kildare, thirty years earlier to take up an apprenticeship as a farrier and blacksmith. He was willing and able, learnt all of the metal work and animal skills quickly, and he'd eventually taken over the smithy when his master could no longer manage it. Financially secure, he'd looked around for a wife, found the future Mrs Coleman and married her. Soon afterwards, Betty came along, then the others and all was well in his world until one day he noticed how many motor vehicles there were in the town. He could see the writing on the wall and knew his days of making a living fixing carts and shoeing horses were limited. Then the war with Germany came along and he heard of opportunities in the bomb factories where his expertise with metals would be in demand. A neighbour passed him an announcement in the Kildare Observer from the Ministry of Munitions and before he could say Jack Robinson, he and his wife Betty had been offered jobs at an ordnance works in Coventry, in the English Midlands. Dan did what his master had done and handed the smithy on to his apprentice, packed up house and tools, and headed for the ferry.
When we boarded, Mrs Coleman insisted I stayed alongside them. 'We'll look after you dear' she'd said, and the six of us trooped up the ramp. Mr Coleman's long years beating iron and shovelling coal into a furnace had a given him broad shoulders and strong arms, so he forced an easy way through the crowd to find us deck seats towards the front, well ahead of the smoking funnel. Betty sat between me and her mother, keeping an eye on Mickey and Jane dashing backwards and forwards along the ship rail. Every so often she'd leap up and grab the pair of them back if they were going too far, or annoying the other passengers.
'They're never tired those two, always on the go. Do you have any brothers or sisters, Maria?'
I told her about Jimmy, saying that I hadn't seen him for years, but was hoping to find him again someday. Betty's reply was drowned by a blast from the ferry's steam whistle as we pulled away from the dock, heading across the Irish Sea once more.
Maria really became self aware at a early age, thank goodness... "because I knew that one day I'd leave the Callaghans' home, either as my choice or, like now, by having no alternative. I'd spent years skivvying for the sisters and I wasn't about to spend the rest of my life doing it for other people". I like what this says for her! Yes, she had a hard working life, as she says later, but it was the life she chose herself!