Kathleen O’Shea - Little Drifters - Part 2 of 4

‘Tara!’ Mammy erupted in a fit of pure fury. Frank dropped my sister and Tara quickly jumped down from the stairs and ran away, through the rooms of the house.

‘What were you doing, you dirty little girl!’ Mammy shouted, going after her. By now Frank had walked silently into the kitchen.

Tara’s terrified shrieks could be heard all around the house as Mammy chased her and finally caught up with her. I came upon them in time to hear my mother demanding: ‘What were you doing?’

She was holding Tara roughly by the back of her dress.

‘I wasn’t doing anything, Mammy,’ she pleaded. ‘He kissed me. He give me money for it.’

She held out her trembling hand and uncurled her fingers to reveal the ten pence piece she’d just earned.

‘He give me the money too, Mammy!’ I said and I showed her my coin.

Mammy was still angry but now a wave of uncertainty passed over her face. She blinked twice.

‘Well, that’s enough!’ she admonished. ‘You better not be taking any more money off him. Leave the poor man alone.’

We scurried away to our room then, confused and upset. We didn’t know what was happening at all. It wasn’t our fault he wanted to give us money for kisses. We’d never come across anything like it before in our lives.

One morning a week later Mammy’s sister arrived at the house – we’d never even met her before but Mammy said it was her sister, our Aunt Elizabeth, and we should get dressed because we were going home to see our father. We were so excited we all got dressed in a hurry – this was brilliant news! Mammy made us all some bread and tea and as we were eating Brian asked her when Aidan and Liam would be here.

‘Oh, it’s not all of us,’ she said casually. ‘It’s just the four of you.’

My hand froze in mid-air and I looked straight at Tara. In that split second we both understood – we were being sent back to Daddy for good. We were being punished for the kisses and now we were going to be separated from our siblings and our mammy.

I bolted from the table and ran upstairs where I hid under the bed, hoping nobody would find me there. But I heard Mammy’s heavy footfall as she climbed up the stairs slowly and walked into the room. I lay under the bed, breathing hard, looking at her stockinged feet and the buckles on her worn brown shoes.

‘Come out from under the bed!’ her voice boomed from somewhere over my head. I didn’t respond.

‘I said COME OUT!’ she shouted now. ‘I swear, if you miss your train I’ll kill you!’

But still I refused to budge. Then I saw her legs bend and her bottom lower to the floor. At the same time her arm shot out, making a grab for me. She yanked me out from under the bed, even though I tried clinging onto the leg, and I cried out: ‘I don’t want to go, Mammy! Don’t send us away!’

‘Don’t be stupid, Kathleen!’ she chided, roughing me all the way down the stairs again. ‘It’s only a little holiday. You’ll all be coming back again.’

But I knew it wasn’t a holiday – we all did. Mammy just wanted us gone. We could see that. Now Brian was crying but she wasn’t putting up with any of it. We’d never seen Mammy like this before. She was impatient, aggressive, like she couldn’t wait to get shot of us.

Mammy dragged us outside and Brian kept crying and kicking at her. It was awful.

‘Please, Mammy!’ he begged. ‘I won’t be naughty any more. Just let me stay. Please!’

She marched us down the road towards the train station and after a while we stopped crying and fighting with her. It wasn’t making any difference. We hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye to Bridget, Aidan, Liam or the little ones. Once on the train, Mammy didn’t even kiss us goodbye. She just looked at us all sternly and ordered: ‘Now you all be good for your aunt. She doesn’t need you causing trouble for her.’

We got on board and Aunt Elizabeth followed on behind us – we had no bags at all, just the clothes we stood up in. Now it was sinking in what was really happening Tara started to sob. I put my arm around her and tried my best to console her: ‘Don’t be sad, Tara. Just think how happy Daddy will be when he sees us.’

But she couldn’t be comforted.

Eventually Aunt Elizabeth snapped at her: ‘Stop your bawling, Tara! I don’t need to be listening to you lot crying all the way back to Ireland.’

It was a sad journey home. None of us jumped about or ran around the train; we hardly even went on deck during the boat crossing and all the way back we were teary, silent and miserable. But we didn’t go straight back to Daddy’s. Aunt Elizabeth took us first to her home. Though Mammy’s family had been travellers when they were all growing up, most of them had now settled into houses. When we got there it was late at night and there was an old man with a wiry brown beard standing in the kitchen. He must have been our uncle, but he didn’t greet us. He didn’t even look at us. He just pointed his finger towards the staircase and said: ‘Straight upstairs.’

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