Little Drifters: Part 3 of 4. Kathleen O’Shea

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СКАЧАТЬ the same to Lucy, who was spluttering, crying and holding her throat.

      ‘Shut up, you stupid girl!’ Elaine was shouting at Libby as she slapped her about. ‘Shut up and drink it!’

      But of course Libby couldn’t swallow it down because she was being pummelled so badly. Without even stopping to think, Tara pounced on Elaine. She grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away from Libby, who had now collapsed on the floor.

      ‘GET OFF MY SISTER!’ Tara screamed, beating Elaine about the head with her hands.

      Elaine was temporarily stunned as Tara attacked her, smacking her all over her body. But she soon recovered and was now fighting back, beating Tara’s hands away. The two of them were scuffling around on the floor, hands and legs flying everywhere. I ran to Libby and Lucy to check they were okay, and though some part of me was willing Tara to give the cow a taste of her own medicine, at the same time I was terrified for Tara.

      ‘Stop it!’ I yelled at her. ‘You’ll make it worse. Come on, Tara!’

      Tara dragged herself away from the woman, who was now throwing her arms about blindly to hit back. Elaine then staggered to her feet, breathing hard and staring at Tara, who had now come over to where I was huddled with the two little ones. Tara stood in front of us protectively, defiantly, daring Elaine to come near us.

      Elaine looked at us as she adjusted her skirt and jumper.

      ‘Don’t take it then!’ she spat at Lucy and Libby, now cowering under my arms. ‘Just go on being sick! I don’t care!’

      And with that she stormed out of our room and went back downstairs.

      We all stood there, watching after her, our hearts in our mouths, fully expecting Sister Helen to come storming up the stairs any moment.

      ‘You’ll get into trouble!’ a trembling Lucy whispered to Tara.

      ‘Ah, don’t you worry about me. I can take care of meself,’ Tara reassured her, but her worried eyes told a different story.

      Remarkably, Elaine didn’t report Tara to the nuns on that occasion, but it didn’t stop the beatings. For some reason, our youngest sister Lucy was always on the receiving end of the worst of them. I caught Rosie giving out to her so bad one time I grabbed her arm to stop her hitting her but then she swung around and walloped me too. Really hard. Then she went back to beating Lucy.

      Around the same time Lucy started suffering from nightmares. But they weren’t like normal nightmares; it was as if she was fully awake. I’d be fast asleep in my bed when suddenly I’d be woken by a terrible screaming coming from Lucy’s room. I’d jump out of bed and run in to see her cowering in the corner, eyes wide open, shaking like a leaf.

      ‘Mammy’s here!’ she’d tell me earnestly. ‘Mammy’s here!’

      ‘Ah, Mammy’s not here,’ I’d say, trying to calm her down.

      ‘No, she is! She is, Kathleen! I seen her. She’s under the bed! Look under the bed!’

      She was so convincing she’d have me crawling around on the floor, looking under the bed for our mother, who I knew couldn’t possibly be in her room. This happened a lot. One time Daddy came back, another time Mammy was there and she jumped out the window. Poor Lucy was haunted every night by the loved ones who’d let her down.

      As for me, I couldn’t work out what to do. All our lives we’d survived by helping each other, but now, in this new world, we could do nothing to protect one another. In fact, it was the opposite. Our siblings could get into trouble just for being associated with us.

      One time I had just come in from playing in the garden when Sister Helen stopped me in the hallway.

      ‘You’re filthy, you dirty tinker!’ she spat. ‘Just look at your skirt, covered in mud.’

      ‘Ah, sure, it’s only a bit of dirt, Sister,’ I said. ‘I’m sure God will forgive me a bit of dirt.’

      Lucy was just standing innocently a little way off from me but Sister Helen had her in her sights. She grabbed Lucy and smacked her hard across the head. Lucy howled in surprise and pain.

      ‘What did you do that for?’ I asked, shocked.

      ‘That’s what happens when you back-chat me!’ Sister Helen replied. ‘Now go and get cleaned up!’

      I was so mad right then I just wanted to run up to her and pull her stupid veil off her head. My fists clenched at my side, fingernails digging into my palms.

      ‘I said go!’ Sister Helen barked. ‘Get out of here, both of you!’

      Lucy had already run upstairs and I followed behind, boiling with impotent rage. For the first time in our lives we could no longer protect each other. In Watersbridge we had to find a whole new way to survive.

Chapter 12

       Grace

      There was one nice person in our house and that was Grace, our cook.

      She joined Watersbridge not long after we arrived, and from the moment she started working there our meals improved no end.

      Now the fish that we had on Fridays actually tasted like fish, the sausages weren’t burned, the mash was creamy, not lumpy, and the stew was delicious, not just a watery bowl of tough meat and soggy vegetables. Grace was kind – she was an older woman with lovely curly, white hair, and unlike the other staff or the nuns she actually seemed to like us children. So I spent as much time as I could in the kitchen, helping her out and letting her peaceful, loving presence soothe and calm me.

      One day, after I’d helped her wash, dry and put away the dishes, I sat at the kitchen table, staring forlornly out the window.

      ‘What’s the matter, Kathleen?’ she asked gently. ‘Don’t you want to go out and play with the others?’

      I shook my head, scared to say what was on my mind.

      ‘Come on, petal,’ she urged. ‘Tell Grace. What’s wrong?’

      ‘Grace, how am I ever going to learn to read?’ I erupted. ‘All them other children can read and write and I don’t know how. I can’t even read the baby books!’

      I was desperate to learn how to read and write but nobody at school ever made the effort to help me. The teacher was so fierce and angry the whole time I just tried to keep quiet and stay out of her way. All the while I was falling further and further behind. Now the lessons just drifted by in an incomprehensible blur. If I failed to do my homework I got called a ‘lazy tinker’ and made to stand outside the headmistress’s office. She had beaten me a few times too. Most of the other kids knew I was having problems and sometimes they’d do my work for me or they’d help me out if I was called on in class to give an answer. But it didn’t help me improve. I had been in Our Lady School for three months now and I was no better off than when I’d first arrived.

      Grace looked at me with real concern.

      ‘I’ll teach you to read,’ she offered.

      ‘Really?’ СКАЧАТЬ