Little Drifters: Part 4 of 4. Kathleen O’Shea

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СКАЧАТЬ that it? Nothing more? I’d waited all these years to see her, cried over her so many times, and that was all she had to say to me!

      In that moment, in that very instant, my feelings for my mother evaporated. It was as if I had never loved her.

      While she chattered away to Bridget, I surveyed her – the faded blue jeans, red chunky knit jumper and black pumps. She wore no make-up and looked far older than I remembered but I could see that people would think she was still slim and pretty.

      During a lull in their conversation my mother turned to me.

      ‘Was the crossing all right?’ she asked coldly. ‘Was it rough?’

      ‘It was okay,’ I told her. God, this was awful. Awful!

      I knew then that the mother I had lost all those years ago was dead, and this was a new one. One who didn’t seem to care for me or her children back in Ireland. They’re still there! They’re still your kids! I wanted to shout. Six more of your children locked up in dreadful institutions, being beaten, bullied and abused. In my mind I pulled up an image of each of my brothers and sisters in turn: Brian, Colin, Tara, Libby, Lucy, Riley. Your kids, Mammy! But I didn’t say it and she didn’t ask me anything about them. And I knew too that if I hadn’t been there, sitting right in front of her, she wouldn’t have given me a second thought either. I knew that now. I looked at her bored-looking child sucking mindlessly on a dummy in its buggy. Mammy had another family now. We didn’t matter.

      Mammy stayed about an hour and a half that first day, not saying much to me at all, only occasionally looking in my direction. When she left she just waved me goodbye like she didn’t care if she ever saw me again. No kisses, no cuddles; we were strangers. I wanted her out as soon as possible. My feelings for her had been destroyed and all that was left was the bitter aftertaste of those long wasted years, wanting her back. When she’d gone I knew Bridget sensed something was wrong but she didn’t know what to say.

      So I spoke: ‘That’s my mother then.’

      ‘Yeah, that’s your mother.’

      And we just left it at that.

      I played with Annie for a while in the garden and then Bridget told me something that made my heart leap with joy.

      ‘Tara’s on her way down,’ she told me. Until this moment I hadn’t even known Tara was in the country. I was so excited and happy at that moment. My sister! My beloved sister! It had been four years since I’d seen Tara and now I was giddy at the thought of being reunited.

      When she walked in the house I could hardly believe this tiny, slim girl with long, long hair down to her hips was my sister. She was beautiful! We kissed and cuddled like mad. She had a baby too!

      ‘I’ve got so much to tell you,’ Tara babbled. ‘Oh Kathleen, I’ve missed you like crazy.’

      Now I was the happiest person in the world. Tara lived a few streets away in temporary accommodation, a hotel, she told me. The baby was still just a few months old but you could never tell Tara was a mother – she was such a young girl herself and thin beyond belief. I had so many questions for her; we had so much to catch up on, but now was not the time. That day all my older brothers and sisters came to see, and each of them had kids, so the whole time we were surrounded by children. Liam and Aidan seemed happy to see me, so did Claire, who I hadn’t seen in ten years. She told me she had been in Dublin until she was 19 and then came to London to be with Bridget. She now worked in a hospice and had a boyfriend in London. It was lovely to catch up with everyone but all I wanted was to be alone with Tara. As she left that day she clasped my hands in hers and urged me: ‘Come to stay with me. Please come.’

      Though I was to spend that first night at Bridget’s house, I knew it was only a matter of time before I would go to Tara’s. We had so much to catch up on, so much to say to each other. She had been smiling like mad all day long, but behind the smile I could tell something was terribly wrong. The way her eyes kept drifting off to stare into the distance, the way, every now and then, I’d catch her shaking her head as if shooing a bad thought out of her mind. And her body was thin, so painfully thin.

      It had been overwhelming seeing everyone again and, despite my delight at being reunited with my family, they were still virtual strangers. Kind strangers, people who treated me like family, but they didn’t have a clue who I was any more. And I knew them even less. It would take time before we were all comfortable in each other’s presence again. So much had happened in the time we’d been separated. But I knew Tara. I knew my sister. And I knew for a fact something wasn’t right.

Chapter 20

       A Child in London

      ‘Tara? What’s wrong, Tara?’ I’d been sent round to see my sister the day after my arrival. But when I got to the hotel where she was staying I found her sitting on the end of her bed, in her nightgown, her long dark hair hanging limply around her face, sodden and puffy from crying.

      ‘I don’t know,’ she said in a quiet voice, thick with tears. Her baby Sam was snoozing in his cot, peaceful and content.

      I’d never seen such a beautiful baby!

      ‘It’s just all too much,’ she managed before collapsing back onto her bed and wrapping the sheets around her. I looked about me, the clothes everywhere, empty food packets strewn about the floor, unwashed dishes. I decided to set to work. So I started tidying up and cleaning their small room while Tara lay in her bed, occasionally letting out little whimpers as she cried.

      Gradually, over the course of that first day, I found out that Tara had been in London just a few months before meeting the father of her child at a restaurant where they both worked. She had fallen pregnant so quickly it had been a shock to them both and they were trying to make a go of things – but Tara now seemed adamant she no longer wanted him in her life.

      ‘I don’t love him,’ she confided later that day. ‘I love the baby but I’m finding it so hard, Kathleen. It was all I could manage to come and see you yesterday but nothing could have stopped me. Nothing in the world. I’ve missed you so much, Kathleen. Stay with me? Please?’

      I went back to Bridget’s that night and told her everything. She nodded and replied: ‘She’s got the baby blues. It’s probably best if you do stay with her for now. She needs someone to help her out.’

      And that was that. I packed my small bag and moved into Tara’s room, sleeping with her at night, curled up together as we used to do as children.

      To begin with, Tara barely spoke and hardly ate a thing. For the first few days she just lay in bed, occasionally getting up to feed or change Sam. I could see she adored her little boy, but it seemed everything was a struggle. At first Sam’s dad was living with us too but Tara told him two days after I arrived that she didn’t want him back again. He was shaking with emotion when he stood at the door, one hand on the handle.

      ‘Tell your sister that if I leave now I ain’t ever coming back!’

      I looked over at Tara and she whispered: ‘Go! Just tell him to go!’

      And hearing this, he turned around and left. From then on it was just me, Tara and the baby, and we soon got ourselves into a little routine, each taking turns to look after Sam. Gradually, Tara started to come back to herself, and one evening, while we were both sat watching TV, СКАЧАТЬ