‘It’s a long aul wait,’ he said, ‘but it shouldn’t be too long now till they open.’
Me ma said nothin, an he wandered off te talk te other men who were arrivin an congregatin aroun the men’s part, smokin, an coughin, an spittin, an laughin, an throwin the eye at me ma. She pretended she didn’t see them.
When we finally got in, we had te go te the office te talk te the sister in charge. Tha’s wha they call themselves! The woman was fat an had a tight perm tha looked like a roll of steel wool on her head. She had little glasses on her nose an asked me ma loads a questions. Me ma gave her a wrong name an said she was just back from England an was lookin fer somewhere te stay. Me ma said she had te come home cos England wasn’t a Catholic country, an she was glad te be back among her own. The woman seemed satisfied an then looked at me. ‘How old are you?’ she snapped.
‘Four, Mrs,’ I said.
‘Sister! You call me Sister.’
‘Yes, Sister Mrs,’ I said, confused, cos she looked like a woman te me.
‘Do you wet the bed?’ she asked me.
‘No!’ I said, terrified, cos I do.
She picked up a big walkin stick, an she said, ‘If you wet the bed, I’ll break this on your back. Do you hear me?’
I didn’t answer, an me ma said nothin either.
We slept in a very big room wit lots of other women all sleepin in single iron beds. I slept wit me ma, an there was one other child in the room. He slept in a cot, cos he was only two years old. His mammy didn’t sleep there, she slept somewhere else. I don’t know where. But every mornin he wakes up cryin, an his ma comes clatterin in on her high heels. An he’s standin up in the cot, holdin on te the bars an roarin his head off. His ma gets very annoyed when she sees the child has shit himself an the blankets are destroyed. So she wipes his arse wit the blanket an dresses him. Then she yanks him outa the cot an onta the floor. Then she says te her other two little girls, who are about five an six years old, ‘Right! Take him an get him outa me sight.’ An the little child goes off wit his sisters, one holdin each hand. An the little babby laughs happily, then the mammy marches off about her own business.
We get ready an leave fer the day. Me ma collects a tin mug a tea an a chunk a bread an margarine. They don’t give anythin fer the childre, me ma says, so I share her bread an try te sup the tea from the tin mug, but it’s too hot an burns me lips. So I go without. We have te leave the hostel by nine o’clock. The doors are locked after us, an we aren’t allowed back in until night. We walk aroun, goin nowhere. If the weather is nice, we sit in the park. If me ma has the price of a cup a tea, then we’ll sit in a café an try te make the tea last. If it’s rainin, we go inta a church. But mostly we just wander aroun the streets waitin fer the time te go back te the hostel.
This mornin I opened me eyes an was surprised I was awake first. The babby was still asleep an wasn’t standin up cryin. His cot was next te our bed. I watched him te see if he would wake, but he didn’t, an I was happy he was quiet cos when his mammy came in te collect him she would tell him he’s a very good boy an he wouldn’t get inta trouble. Everyone was now gettin up an beginnin te move aroun, but he was still asleep. Me ma was gettin me dressed when his mammy came in. She went over te the cot an shook him, but he didn’t move! She shook him again an then felt him. ‘He’s stone cold,’ she muttered. Then she screamed, ‘He’s dead! Oh, Christ Almighty, he’s dead! Me little boy is dead.’
She started te shake the bars of the cot an scream. Then she started te pull her hair out. Me ma grabbed me an pulled me out the door, not botherin te wait fer her tea an bread. ‘Oh, God bless tha poor woman,’ me ma said. We left the hostel in an awful hurry.
Me ma went down te collect her money from the relievin officer. I think it’s five shillin fer a week. The waitin room was crowded wit people, all sittin on long wooden benches behind each other an everybody starin inta space. Nobody talkin or lookin at each other. They were all smokin their Woodbines, an the place was thick wit blue smoke. I was beginnin te get a terrible headache, an me stomach felt very sick.
When we got inta the relievin officer, he asked me ma an awful lot of questions. He asked her if she had any valuables she could pawn or sell. She said no. Finally, he said he would come up te the house te check, so she had te tell him she was now homeless, an we were stayin at the Regina Ceoli hostel. ‘If that’s so,’ he said, ‘then you’ll have to bring me a letter from the people in charge, and until you so do this, I won’t be giving you any money. Now, send in the next one.’