‘Yeah!’ I said, all delighted an excited. An tryin te look sad.
‘Fuck this!’ Jackser said. ‘I’m goin up te the respectable parts, where they don’t all act like animals!’
I felt as tired as the horse looked, draggin herself down Capel Street. She was probably thinkin about her warm stables an a nice bag of oats before she rested. I’d buried meself in a mound of rags sittin in the middle of the cart, an I’d be glad when we got these sold te the aul Jew man at Henrietta Street. ‘Oh, yeah,’ Jackser was sayin. ‘I used te work fer the circus. I looked after the horses. I was wit them all – Chipperfields, Billy Smart’s, the lot. An I was good, I may tell ye! I could be doin this more often, makin a few bob. But yer mammy stops me. She doesn’t like me goin out an leavin her on her own. Wit you helpin me, I could probably do a coal round. Then we’d be on the pig’s back. We’d be flyin!’
Jackser sorted the clothes out as we waited our turn te be weighed. ‘Here! Put tha up te ye an see if it fits ye!’ I looked at the coat, an it went down te me toes. Then it was our turn. Jackser carried the clothes off the cart an threw them on the scales. Then he backed Daisy down the lane an left me holdin the reins.
I was holdin her head too close te the ground, cos I couldn’t reach up further, an she didn’t like this. She snorted an threw her head back, an nearly pulled me arms from the sockets. I was raised off the ground, but I wouldn’t let the reins go. I was afraid of me life she’d hurt me or turn aroun an bite me. ‘There, there, Daisy,’ I kept sayin te her. Then Daisy moved forward, an I pulled tight on the reins. So she decided te move backward. ‘Ah, Mammy! She’s runnin off wit me!’ I said in a quiet panic.
Jackser didn’t look down. He was too busy arguin wit the Jew man. But another horse an cart came up behind me, an the man jumped down an came over te Daisy an pulled her over te the side, sayin te me, ‘Leave her be, chicken! She’ll wait there, she’s a quiet one!’
Jackser collected his money an he whipped me offa the ground, plonkin me down beside him on the cart. ‘Right! We’re off,’ he said, snufflin an raisin his arm in the air an shovin his head down towards the ground. He roared, ‘Go on, Daisy! I’m takin ye home,’ an we hurried outa the lane. When we arrived back at Mountjoy Square, Daisy’s ears picked up, an she lifted her head an took off inta a gallop. She was delighted now she was home. I sat on the bales of hay, watchin an waitin as Jackser unharnessed Daisy from the cart an walked her inta the stables. When he had all the harness on the cart put away, an the hay was put down fer Daisy’s bed, an she was fed an watered, we locked up. Jackser jumped up on his bike an lifted me on te the crossbar. I was stiff an cold, an couldn’t wait te get home fer a hot sup of tea an bread, an maybe somethin else, cos Jackser had a few bob now.
It was dark now, an the street lamps was on. I held tight te the handlebars, feelin the cold wind whip away me breath, an I tried te keep me head down. Jackser was pedallin like mad, an he was in good form. ‘We’ll be home in no time,’ he said. ‘Yer mammy will be glad te see us.’ Then we hit Marlborough Street. ‘We’re just aroun the corner now from home,’ Jackser said. ‘I’ll just stop in here fer a minute,’ an he pulled the bike over an left it at the side of the footpath. ‘I’m only havin one, so mind me bike, an I’ll be out in a minute,’ an he disappeared inta the pub. Me mouth fell open, an me heart fell down inta me belly. Me ma’s voice came inta me head. ‘Why didn’t ye stop him?’
Jackser came reelin outa the pub at closin time. I was sittin on the footpath next te his bike, an I was frozen solid. The damp night air an the cold footpath had gone right through me bones, an me legs was blue. I only had a thin frock an a light coat on me tha was too short. I had no socks, an me shoes had no soles, only big holes. Jackser couldn’t manage the bike, he was too drunk. An the bike was too big an heavy fer me te manage it. So Jackser said, ‘Ah, fuck it!’ an he left it there.
Jackser couldn’t make it either! He staggered from the footpath an smashed inta the wall an back again out inta the middle of the road. When he made it back te the wall again, he gave up an dug out his heels an plonked himself against the wall. Then he spent ages tryin te find his Woodbines in his pocket. When he did get one inta his mouth, he couldn’t light it, cos his eyes kept crossin an the wind was blowin out the match. We were never goin te get home, an he’s probably drank all the money. Me ma will go mad! An now we’ve nothin. If only me ma would leave him! We’d be better off on the streets, I thought. I was playin wit the idea of runnin home te me ma, an leavin him. He’s so drunk, he might forget he had me wit him. I looked at him, he was spittin an great big snots was comin outa his nose. ‘I love yer mammy!’ he was sayin. ‘I love Sally, I do! I’d do anythin fer her. An ye’re a great young one, you’ll go far, any flies on you is payin rent! I took youse in when no one else wanted ye’s, so I’m not at all bad, wouldn’t ye agree wit me?’