Little Drifters: Part 2 of 4. Kathleen O’Shea

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       PART II: Broken

       Chapter 7: Gloucester

       Chapter 8: Daddy

       Chapter 9: North Set

       Chapter 10: Despair

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

PART II

Chapter 7

       Gloucester

      It was a few weeks later that Bridget came back. We were so thrilled to see her, we jumped all over her, kissing her like mad and hanging round her neck.

      ‘We missed you!’ we told her over and over again. We thought she was coming back for good – we were so excited, we hardly even noticed the strange look that passed between her and my mother as she set her case down on the floor. We all went to sleep that night, happy that our older sister had returned.

      But the next morning she shook us awake and whispered: ‘Come on now, lads. Wake up and get ready. We’ve got to go.’

      We all pulled on our clothes, unquestioning, not having a clue what was going on. When we came into the parlour Mammy had the babies all dressed and Bridget was standing next to three cases. Aidan and Liam were there too, looking grim-faced. Next to them was a man we didn’t recognise.

      ‘This here is Fergal,’ said Bridget. ‘He’s my fella and he’s gonna be helping us.’

      Mammy was bustling about, getting all our sandals out and ordering us to put on our coats. She seemed tense, nervous.

      Once they’d ushered us all outside I asked: ‘Where are we going?’

      It was Bridget who replied: ‘We’re going to England.’

      England? I didn’t know where England was. I’d never heard of the place – but in that instant I knew one thing. We were all leaving without Daddy! I started to sob. My heart ached. We couldn’t leave Daddy. Despite everything, I worshipped my daddy and I knew he loved us all to death.

      ‘But Mammy,’ I tugged at her skirt. ‘We can’t leave Daddy behind. Why isn’t Daddy coming with us?’

      ‘Hush now,’ she said. ‘Stop your crying.’

      I didn’t really have to ask – I knew why we were leaving but I couldn’t bear the thought of Daddy coming home to find all of us gone. But there was nothing I could do. We set off then across the fields to get to the village, not daring to walk along the road. Fergal and Bridget took the cases while Mammy, Liam and Aidan carried the little ones. It was three miles to get to the village but for us this wasn’t a long walk. We tramped along in silence, and once we arrived we sat at the roadside until the bus came along to take us to the main town.

      I was too sad and preoccupied to talk. I didn’t know where England was but it sounded a long way away. How would Daddy feel finding an empty house? It was horrible to think how lonely he would be without us all. We all got on board the bus and Mammy ordered us to sit down and quieten while she settled the little ones. The bus started up but since we were going along small, winding country roads, it couldn’t go too fast. Just then, up ahead, I spotted Daddy, strolling down the road in his white shirt with his sleeves rolled up, his hands in his pockets, his lips pursed to whistle. He was on his way home and looked so happy, not a care in the world.

      My heart soared to see him and I called out: ‘Look! There’s Daddy!’ and started banging on the window.

      But Mammy must have caught sight of him at the very same moment because she screamed at us all: ‘Get down!’

      She grabbed my arm and pulled me to the floor of the bus. All the others hid down behind the seats as we passed by my father, clueless that we were all in the bus, escaping from him. Then the bus was past and he was gone. Mammy, who had been laying half on top of me on the floor, pulled herself up and dusted herself down. I was devastated. I sat silently for the rest of the journey, watching all the green fields pass by, imagining Daddy, all alone and sad in our house.

      To us country children, arriving in a large town was something incredible. We’d never seen so many people before and the buildings seemed to tower over us, giant structures that rose majestically into the sky. All the crying stopped then as Mammy led us from the bus station to the train station. We all gaped in open-mouth wonder as we caught sight of the huge engines on the tracks. We’d never even seen a train up close before, let alone been on one. All thoughts of Daddy flew out of my head as I admired the enormous, steaming machines in front of us. Mammy found our train and she hustled us all aboard. This was surely the most thrilling thing in the world and now there was no controlling any of us as we ran up and down the carriage, exploring our surroundings.

      The train set off and we were still flying around, jumping on the seats and hanging round the door to look out of the window.

      ‘Would you leave that bloody window alone, Brian!’ Mammy shouted from the table where she and the older ones sat as Brian pulled the window down for the hundredth time. If they had let us we would have run through the whole train, going from one compartment to the next. As it was we contented ourselves with just playing havoc in one carriage. We were almost sad when the journey came to an end, but then the older ones led us towards the port where we had to get on a big boat.

      ‘A boat?’ Brian kept on at my mother. ‘Are we really going on a boat?’

      ‘Yes, Brian,’ Mammy replied, sighing. ‘We really are.’

      ‘I can’t believe it!’ he said to her. Then to us: ‘I can’t believe it. Can you believe it, Kathleen? We’re going on a boat!’

      Once on board we went completely berserk. We were everywhere, up on deck, down below, all around the whole place. We ran through the corridors, in and out of the toilets, slamming the doors behind us, and even climbed onto the railings to look down at the sea below. But that scared us because it was so high up that we didn’t do it a second time. Mammy didn’t pay us much mind – she just got on looking after the babies. She never did seem to mind what we were doing – we must have been in danger most of the time but Mammy reckoned we must all learn to look after ourselves so we were left free to make our own entertainment.

      About half an hour into the crossing, we were stood on deck, spitting into the sea below to see whose spit could go the furthest while the wind whipped our hair and skirts about us. Just then Brian let out a terrible scream.

      ‘It’s a monster!’ he jabbered. We all turned to look where he was pointing and we saw, coming towards us on the deck, a man who was as black as the night. Brian was right – the man was so black we thought he must be a monster too and we all started screaming.

      Now Brian