‘Hurry!’ me ma puffed. ‘He’ll come after us.’ We rounded the corner at the church an hid in the shop, waitin fer the bus an keepin a look out fer Jackser.
‘Here it is, Ma!’ I said, finally seein the bus headin down towards us. We galloped across the road an jumped on.
‘Gimme tha change,’ me ma said. I handed me ma the one shillin an tenpence change from the Woodbines, an she paid the fare. ‘Tha bastard took all the money from me an headed off inta town wit it this mornin. He was only back just before you arrived. Well! He’s not livin off me any more. Tha’s the last of me he’s goin te see!’
I said nothin. I was tryin te make sense of wha’s happenin. ‘But what about the childre, Ma?’
‘Let him take care of them! I’ve wasted enough of me life,’ me ma said, tightenin her lips an lookin away from me.
We arrived at Parnell Street an got off the bus an walked down Moore Street, just wanderin. ‘It’s an awful pity he got his hands on the money,’ me ma muttered te herself. ‘I’m goin te have te hang on te the shillin I’ve left.’ I saw her look longinly at the café we passed. An the smell a chips turned me mouth te water. I’d love te go in there an sit down an have a cup a tea. But we just moved on, wanderin aimlessly. ‘I wonder where we can stay fer the night,’ she said, lookin at me, thinkin an chewin on her lip. ‘It’s beginnin te get dark, an we can’t stay on the streets.’
‘Let’s go down te the buildins. There’s a very nice woman I know. She’s one of me customers. Maybe she’ll let us stay the night.’
When we got te the buildins, it was dark an I knocked on the door. ‘Mrs!’ I said when she squinted out at me, wonderin who was knockin on her door this hour of the night. ‘I wonder if ye wouldn’t mind lettin me an me ma sleep on yer floor fer the night? We’ve nowhere te go, an me ma had te run fer her life when Jackser threw us out.’
‘I’m sorry, love. I’d love te help ye’s, but I’ve no room! Isn’t there anyone else ye can ask? I’ve a houseful of childre.’ An she opened the door wider, an we looked inta the dark room an saw childre sleepin on a pull-down bed in the corner.
‘Ah! I’m sorry te bother ye,’ I said in a whisper. ‘We’ll be all right. We’ll find somewhere,’ an I went te move off.
‘Wait!’ she said. ‘Is tha all ye’re wearin?’
I looked at me thin frock an cardigan. ‘Yeah,’ I said.
‘You’ll freeze in tha,’ she said, rushin inta the room an comin out wit an old overcoat. ‘Put tha aroun ye. It’s not much, but it’ll help te keep the cold out.’
I took the coat, sayin, ‘Thanks very much, Mrs, an I’m sorry again fer givin ye any bother.’
‘No! No! Not at all. I’m sorry I have te turn ye away,’ an she put her arms out, showin me the room full a people. She closed the door, an I put the heavy old coat, miles too big fer me, aroun me shoulders, an followed me ma up the cold stone steps. We sat down on a step on the landin, an me ma pressed in against the wall. An I pushed in beside her, sittin on the hem of her coat, wrappin the big coat over the two of us. We sat without movin, listenin te the quiet. I stared at the dark, wonderin wha was goin te happen. I looked at me ma, lost in herself, the wind gone outa her now when it hit her we had nowhere te go. I could feel a coldness creepin over me chest. Maybe she’s thinkin of goin back te Jackser! Tha can’t happen now. He’ll kill her an blame me fer puttin ideas inta her head. An he won’t show me any mercy. An wha will happen te the childre? Ah, Jesus help us! This is an awful mess. An we don’t even have any money. If I go an rob any butter tomorrow, I could get caught. Then me ma would be left stranded, an she’d have te tell Jackser. No! Forget tha. But wha then? I’m afraid te ask me ma, in case she’s changed her mind an thinkin of runnin back te him. ‘Ma,’ I croaked. ‘Eh, wha’s goin te happen now?’
‘I don’t know, there’s no one te take us in. Where can we go?’
I said nothin, thinkin.
We’d fallen asleep. An I woke wit me ma shakin me. ‘It’s beginnin te get bright, Martha. It must be nearly mornin.’
I sat up, rubbin me neck an feelin stiff as a poker. ‘Jaysus, Ma. I’m freezin!’
‘Yeah! This is a terrible carry on. I hope tha bandy aul bastard dies roarin!’ me ma snorted.
‘Yeah! But, Ma, we’re away from him! An I know wha te do. Don’t worry yerself. I’ll come up wit somethin.’