‘No, Ma. He won’t, not yet. He’ll think I’m aroun the shops. It’s still too early fer me te be here. Tha’s wha he’ll be thinkin. So he’ll be scourin Henry Street an hangin aroun O’Connell Street, tryin te spot us. Tha’s if he isn’t off drinkin the money. So we still have a head start on him. Don’t worry, tha bastard is not goin te catch us,’ I said, feelin hot in me chest. Then we stayed quiet, feelin satisfied. Just waitin fer the time te pass.
‘We won’t have enough fer the boat, though, tha takes us te England,’ me ma said slowly, lookin at me.
I felt me heart sinkin. ‘No, I suppose not, but ye never know, Ma. We’ll find a way,’ I said, feelin meself liftin again.
I was gettin impatient an stood up an walked up the stairs te look over the balcony. I saw people movin down Corporation Street. ‘We won’t have te wait much longer, Ma. It’s much brighter now, an people are on the move.’ I sat down again te wait.
‘This waitin’d kill ye,’ me ma said. ‘Me nerves are gone, sittin here waitin fer him te jump out at us from nowhere.’
I was gettin very worried meself. ‘Right, Ma! Let’s get this box up onta the landin, an we can watch from the balcony. We lifted the box up an put it between us, coverin it wit the coat, an leaned our elbows on the balcony te keep a watch out. I had te stand on the box or keep jumpin up te see over. ‘OK, Ma,’ I said at last, rippin open the box an takin out six pound a butter. ‘I’ll go.’
‘Don’t be long!’ me ma said after me, soundin very worried.
‘No! I’ll be back as quick as I can.’ An I shot off, hurryin te me first customer, hopin they’d got paid their money an not be tellin me te come back later.
I was knockin on doors. ‘Eh! Ye’re here early today. Oh! The butter is lovely an hard, not mashed like the usual!’
‘No! I was able te collect it yesterday.’
‘I’ll take an extra one today, so give me the three.’
‘Thanks very much!’ an I shot off, rushin back te me ma. ‘Here, Ma! Take the money.’
I was doin great, only five pound a butter left. I grabbed it an took off, leavin me ma countin the money, laughin an lookin very happy. Only two pound left. I knocked on the door. ‘Ma! It’s the butter young one,’ a little young fella of about seven shouted.
‘Tell her two!’ the mammy shouted out, comin wit her purse, countin the money. ‘Oh, tha’s lovely an fresh lookin,’ she said, takin the two pounds a butter an smilin. ‘It’s usually all battered.’
‘No, it’s lovely, isn’t it?’ I said. ‘I didn’t have te carry too much today in me shoppin bag, so it’s not gone all soft.’ I took the seven shillins an sixpence, an said, ‘Thanks very much, Mrs,’ an I was gone back te me ma waitin at the bottom of the stairs. I was sweatin an all red in the face. An me ma was delighted when I handed over the money.
‘Let’s go,’ she said, an we rushed out onta Foley Street an headed down the North Strand. An turned right at the Five Lamps, headin down towards Sheriff Street.
We got te the quays an walked down the North Wall slowly, me ma lookin at the boats. ‘If only we could get on tha boat tonight an get te England. Then we’d be grand!’ me ma said, lookin longinly at the ships. ‘We need never worry again about lookin over our shoulders te see if tha mad bastard is after us.’
‘Yeah!’ I said, feelin desperate, tryin te think of a way aroun tha. ‘We can’t hang aroun, Ma, tryin te get more money, cos sooner or later tha aul fella is goin te catch us. An we’ll be up against the police as well if we get caught robbin the butter.’
‘Jaysus Christ! What are we goin te do then?’ me ma said, lookin aroun her.
‘Let’s just keep walkin, Ma, an don’t be worryin. Ye never know wha will happen.’
I was feelin down meself now, cos I’m afraid, when I see me ma get desperate, she might change her mind an run back te tha aul fella.
We walked on past the pub wit aul fellas standin outside, their backs against the wall an hoppin from one foot te the other wit their hands in their pockets an their eyes hoppin from one end of the quays te the other, lookin fer someone te buy them a drink. I saw their eyes flickin over me ma as they swivelled their heads lookin down the quays an then turned back te spit, so they could get a better look at her. Tryin te play the hard men an cockin their eyebrows te try an make themselves good lookin. Thinkin they were John Wayne or Roy Rogers! Me ma looked away.
‘More Jacksers, Ma! A gang a fuckin wasters,’ I said.