Читать книгу Little Drifters: Kathleen’s Story - Kathleen O’Shea - Страница 11

We knew the snow was coming long before it arrived. It was exceptionally cold that year. Daddy said it over and over. He could always tell what the weather was going to do and he’d been looking up in the sky for days now, tutting and shaking his head: ‘There’s snow coming. Big snow.’

Of course, all us kids were excited – we loved playing in the snow. But none of us could have imagined how hard and heavy it would come down that year. Once those large flakes started drifting to the ground, it didn’t stop. For days it snowed and snowed until afterwards the fields, roads and everything else as far as your eyes could see was buried deep under a white carpet, truly transforming the landscape. It was just as well that we knew our surroundings like the backs of our hands or we could have got lost just by walking out of the campsite.

Now the deep snow made life a lot harder for us to move around, and our daily chores of fetching water and collecting wood became almost impossible.

Still, we always tried to have fun and often we’d start off on a chore before ending up in the middle of a snowball fight, ducking, diving and laughing as the snowballs found their marks. We built huge tunnels in the snow and massive snowballs which we’d push down the hills, watching in fascination as they grew bigger with every turn.

It was always great fun until our hands froze and then we’d have to go back inside the wagon, crying from the pain.

‘Mammy, our hands hurt. It hurts, do something, Mammy!’ Tara and I cried out as soon as we saw her.

‘There, didn’t I tell you lot not to overdo it playing in the snow,’ Mammy chided, placing our hands in a basin of warm water and gently massaging them to relieve the pain and the numbness. Of course, it wasn’t long before we’d get the feeling in our fingers back and we’d be at the snow again. There really wasn’t much else to do as we were stranded about a mile from the village.

One night I woke up with the cold, despite the warm blanket and the body heat from Tara, who lay curled behind my back, her breathing deep and relaxed. My mother was asleep on the bunk below us with my brother Colin and Libby. I climbed carefully down the small ladder and reached for the box under the bunk, where my mother kept the socks. I could hear the wind howling outside and the wagon swayed when a gust of wind whistled past. It sounded so wild and scary that I hurried to pick up two pairs of my father’s socks, rolling them as far up my legs as I could before creeping back up the ladder to my bunk and huddling up to Tara. I was slowly regaining a bit of warmth and was almost asleep when I heard my mother groaning beneath me.

Instinctively, I leaned my head over the bed to look down.

My mother was sitting up panting, gripping the pole of the bunk so tightly her knuckles were white while her other hand held her belly. Her face was misshapen as she grimaced, gritting her teeth with pain.

Sweat dripped from her brow and her eyes were shut tight in intense concentration.

‘Mammy, you look sick,’ I said as I came down the ladder, scared at what was happening to my mother.

‘Go and get Claire and Bridget!’ she spoke between rapid breaths.

I didn’t need to be told twice. I threw on my coat and Wellingtons, jumped down off the wagon into fresh snow and ran across to the other wagon. Thick snowflakes rained down heavily, and the cross-wind was so cold and fierce that my cheeks were already stinging by the time I got to the door.

As soon as I opened it up, I shouted for Claire and Bridget. Groggily, Bridget sat up in the bed: ‘Are you gone in the head, Kathleen?’

The breeze blew in behind me and the others sat up in their beds.

‘You gobshite! Shut the feckin’ door! It’s freezing!’ Liam shouted from the top bunk. Breathing heavily, I managed to tell them that Mammy was in pain and she needed them to come quickly.

The fear in my voice must have convinced them of the urgency for they all jumped out of their beds and grabbed their clothes in a flash. Bridget rushed to my mother while Claire took charge of the rest of us, ushering us into the second wagon. Aidan and Liam were instructed to go to the village to get our father from the pub and also a midwife as my mother was about to have a baby! My brothers had to trek a mile across deep, snowy fields in a blizzard to fetch help. Meanwhile, my mother’s groaning turned to screams. We were all shaken by the terrifying sounds coming from the other wagon. Claire’s face was almost frozen in fear.

‘You lot stay in the wagon now,’ she told us. ‘I have to check on Mammy.’

She ran outside into the snowstorm as the screams came louder now – then suddenly the screaming stopped. We all waited anxiously, not knowing what was going on, holding each other for comfort and warmth. None of us spoke. Finally, we were relieved to hear the voices of our brothers and father accompanied by another voice which we reckoned must have been the midwife. Soon after, Claire clambered back in the wagon.

‘Mammy is all right and she is being attended to by the midwife,’ she said, smiling reassuringly.

‘Bridget and our father are with her. She has given birth to a baby girl. We knew she was going to have another one but no one thought she would come so quick. She had her before the midwife even arrived. We had to wrap the poor little thing up in newspapers to keep her warm, but the baby’s fine. There’s nothing more to do but to wait till the ambulance gets here. Lie down and try to get some sleep.’

Claire spoke calmly, and as her words registered in my mind all the tension and stress of the past few hours left me. I had been so scared for my mother. Everyone sighed with relief that all was well.

In fact, it would take hours for the ambulance to arrive as the snowstorm had made our road impassable. A snow-plough was brought in first before the ambulance could come through and take my mother and the new baby to the hospital. And that is how our baby sister Lucy arrived in the world.

Mammy and the baby returned a few days later, along with the Legion of Mary workers who had now been alerted to our plight out in the middle of the fields, cut off from the village by the snow. They brought winter jackets, Wellington boots and blankets to fend off the worst of the cold and gave Mammy food vouchers to help feed all of us children. We were all grateful for the extra warmth and food. But in truth I never truly relaxed until I woke up one morning, well over a month after the drifts cut us off, to see the first thaw and the green and brown fields re-emerging from under their winter blankets.

‘Have you seen Floss anywhere this morning?’

Daddy was up and about early that spring morning, tending to his horses as usual, bringing in the hay, grooming their coats and changing their shoes. But now he was searching the campsite, a concerned look on his face.

‘It’s probably nothing but it’s a bit strange that he’s not about,’ he added, absent-mindedly. ‘Have you seen him?’

I was not long woken up and still had a bleary head, full of sleep.

‘No,’ I replied. ‘I’ve only just got out the wagon, Daddy.’

I was keen to help so I got Tara up and we set about looking for Daddy’s favourite dog. We didn’t have to walk far, just about 50 yards from the wagon, when we came across Floss lying under a tree.

Thinking he was asleep, I started calling out: ‘Hey, Floss! Come here, boy.’

We waited a while but Floss didn’t move a muscle.

‘God! That Floss must be asleep,’ I said to Tara and we crouched next to Floss as I said again: ‘Come on, get up, you lazy dog!’

I went to give Floss a shove, but when I touched him his body was stiff. I tried to heave him to one side but Floss just flopped back, lifeless.

‘Oh my God, Tara. Floss has died. He ain’t moving.’

We both started to cry – Floss wasn’t just like a dog, He was one of our family. We ran back screaming: ‘Daddy! Daddy, we found Floss but he’s dead. We found him under that tree over there.’

I pointed in the direction of the tree.

‘You what …?’ My father didn’t get out two words before he ran to the tree and threw himself down on the ground where Floss lay.

I heard him shouting out: ‘No. No. No!’

Tara and I followed behind and came upon my father, utterly distraught. Daddy was sobbing his heart out at the death of his friend and companion. I couldn’t help but cry seeing my father in so much despair, and so did Tara. As my father’s cries could be heard all round the campsite, gradually the others came to see and each of us shed tears at the loss of our dear Floss.

Daddy was inconsolable. He lay down next to Floss and stayed there, by his side, crying and talking to him. The day went on. We got ourselves some food but Daddy wouldn’t move. As day shifted into night Tara and I came to sit with our father.

‘See that dog Floss,’ he said to us, now taking long swigs from a bottle of Guinness. ‘We’ve been everywhere together. That’s the smartest dog you’ll ever find. You know, I sold that dog to a lot of the farmers and got quite a bit of money for him but the dog never stayed. He always found his way back home.’

Daddy laughed with the memory but then his sadness consumed him and he started crying again. Daddy didn’t come in the wagon that night – no matter how much my mother coaxed him he refused to leave Floss’s side. For three days Daddy slept outdoors next to his dog until eventually Mammy managed to persuade him to bury the remains, which were now beginning to decay and smell.

A little bit of Daddy died with Floss. You could see that his heartache weighed heavy on him for a long while. I hadn’t seen him like this before, even after the time a man came to get Daddy to tell him his mammy was dying from TB. Daddy had gone back to his home town, and though he was still banned from his parents’ home he saw my grandmother in hospital. He told us she had died in his arms and for a while he was sad and quiet. Daddy was always devoted to his mother and she adored him too. But when Floss died, Daddy was a wreck. Eventually he pulled himself together. The horse fair was coming up and he had to prepare all his horses, making sure they were in top nick. Eventually, Daddy left for the fair with Liam and Aidan. They returned two days later, pleased with their trades. They’d managed to sell off the horses and buy a good-looking chestnut mare.

She was lively and energetic, though she could be snappy and headstrong. My father seemed contented with the sale but he was still tortured over the loss of his dear Floss. Now he spent a lot of his time and money in the pub, drunk in the company of his friends. Mammy was left in charge of us all with no money and nothing to feed us, and this started a lot of arguments between them.

One night Mammy said she’d had enough and marched off towards the village to find Daddy and bring him home. We waited up, listening for the sound of my mother and father returning – it was late by the time we went to sleep and they still weren’t back. The next morning they were both there and Mammy didn’t say anything to us about what happened. Instead, she went out with my daddy the next night and they stayed out all night again. This happened night after night as Claire and Bridget were left, struggling to look after us, as well as the babies, Libby and Lucy.

‘Mammy, why are you leaving the children with us so much?’ Claire complained one night as Mammy put on her coat to accompany our father to the village again.

‘It’s not fair on us having to miss school to look after your babies. If this carries on, Mammy, I swear I’ll leave! I am not going to be looking after your babies while you pop them out year after year. I want a better life than this. You don’t even leave us with anything to eat. What kind of mother are you? Now you’re both irresponsible parents – how is this going to make our lives better?’

Mammy didn’t say much. She just went on with her work but we were all waiting for an answer.

We couldn’t understand it – why did Mammy leave us? It was hard enough with Daddy out drunk every night.

Then one day, as my father was preparing himself to go to the farm, he shouted at Claire to put the reins on the new mare that he had bought at the last fair. Claire had done this many times and thought nothing of it but today the young mare was in a skittish temper.

As she tried to fit the reins over her head, the mare got snappy and bit Claire’s face. Claire let out a sharp scream and pulled away, running back to my shocked father, crying in pain, both her palms covering her face. We could see blood streaming out the side of one hand. The next thing I knew, Daddy picked up a hammer and dashed across to the mare, bringing it down, smack, straight on top of her head. The horse came crashing down to the ground like a sack of potatoes. She was out stone cold. I was stunned at what my father had done. I thought he had killed the mare.

Meanwhile, Mammy started tending to Claire’s wound. The horse had severed the right side of her nostril from her face. Blood dripped everywhere as Mammy helped her to get on the cart so they could take her to the hospital. A few minutes later I was relieved to see the mare stagger to her feet, a little groggy, but otherwise no worse for her bash about the head.

Later, Claire returned with stitches to her nose, covered with a patch. And Daddy was so stressed by the whole episode that he stayed the night at the pub. Claire, horrified at having her nose half bitten off, was in such shock and pain she vented angrily at my mother.

‘I’m going to be left with a massive scar now. I hate this life. I’m not going to do this any more. I’m going off to get myself a job. I don’t care. I can’t watch any more what you and Daddy are doing to all of us.’

Mammy could say nothing to calm Claire down. And the more she tried, the more Claire ranted and screamed at her.

Bridget held Claire tight, trying hard to console her: ‘Hush now, Claire. You’re upset.’

‘No, Bridget!’ Claire wept. ‘I’m going. I’m really going. I’ve had enough of this miserable life.’

‘Now, now, Claire. Mammy needs you. You just can’t get up and go. Daddy won’t allow it. Besides, you’ll be better soon and it’ll all be forgotten.’

‘Forgotten? How can I forget all that’s happened to us? They don’t care. Why should they care if I leave? The only thing that’s stopping me is the children.’

They hugged each other now and all us young ones rushed to offer our comfort, burying ourselves in our elder sisters’ embrace.

Later, when Claire had calmed down we all decided to take a walk. My mother, Claire, Bridget, Tara and myself talked and joked about, and we teased each other as we walked. We were not far from the river when we saw our father about to cross the bridge from the other side. The bridge itself was only wide enough to allow a cart to pass through, and on either side, about a foot thick, there stood a three-foot-tall stone wall. We saw Daddy staggering towards us, so drunk he could hardly keep himself upright.

‘Look at that old fool!’ Mammy scoffed. ‘Your father’s as drunk as a skunk! He can’t even keep himself up. Mind, he’ll fall over the bridge if he’s not careful.’

I worried in that moment that my mother was right. He was veering uncontrollably from one side to the other.

‘Daddy! Daddy!’ I called out.

Daddy saw us, stopped walking and smiled wonkily. He looked like he was just going to sit down for a quick rest, backing himself into the wall on the bridge. But he went too far and toppled over backwards into the river. We heard a loud splash as my father hit the water.

‘Oh my lord!’ Mammy shouted. ‘What did I tell you? That flipping eejit just fell over the bridge!’

We all ran down the bank of the river to see what had happened to our father. Though the river was only about waist height Daddy was struggling to get his head out of the water, and every time he got up he fell down again as the river swept him off his feet. I watched anxiously as Mammy, Claire and Bridget waded into the river to rescue him. Mammy managed to catch hold of him and we all helped drag him to the bank. Claire took hold of one side of our drenched father and Bridget the other as they helped him home, all the while my father rambling on and on about the mare, not even realising he’d nearly drowned. We laughed about it the next day but Claire was quiet. The horse bite had been the final straw for her. Now a change was coming – the family I’d known and loved all my life was about to break apart.