Little Drifters: Kathleen’s Story. Kathleen O’Shea

out one after another after another, but there were no babies. Not a single one.

      We were all confused and bitterly disappointed.

      ‘I can’t find one, Brian,’ I spoke out. ‘Maybe there is no baby here or it might be somewhere else. Maybe you have to find a special one or a magic one.’

      ‘Yes, Brian. I’m tired. Maybe we should go and do something else,’ Tara added while Colin sat on the ground poking a stick into the mud, waiting on us to see what we’d do.

      ‘No! There must be a baby! Mammy said so. Go and pull out a bit more,’ Brian shouted back, angry and frustrated. By now we were all covered in mud – it was in our clothes, our faces and our hair – and so tired of digging that we gave up. The field was a mess with cabbages strewn everywhere and we walked back to the wagon dejected. We were so sure about the babies that our failure was hard to comprehend.

      As we walked into the campsite Brian was still going on about finding babies: ‘I’m going back there tomorrow. I’ll find one.’

      ‘Jesus Christ!’ Suddenly we heard our sister Bridget’s incredulous shout. ‘Look at the lot of you! You’re covered in mud!’

      Claire seemed equally horrified as she caught sight of us: ‘Lads, what have you lot been up to? Oh my God, look at how filthy you are! Mammy will go mad seeing you lot like that.’

      They both shook their heads as they turned us about, examining us from head to toe. Mud clung to every part of us.

      ‘Come, let’s get down to the river to get all that filth off you before your parents see you,’ she added.

      Bridget grabbed a towel as she quickly ushered us towards the river.

      As she was washing us down she asked: ‘Anyway, how did you manage to get this filthy?’

      ‘We were digging up cabbages in the farmer’s field,’ I answered.

      ‘You what? You did what?’ Bridget was stunned.

      I thought that Bridget didn’t hear me properly so I told her of our day on the field looking for babies as Brian, Tara and Colin nodded along. Claire and Bridget were completely gobsmacked and after I’d finished my story they just looked at each other before bursting out laughing. They were in stitches. They couldn’t believe what we had done.

      Finally, when they calmed down enough to talk, Bridget warned us not to go back to the field.

      ‘The farmer will be going mad after you lot destroyed his crop. There is no baby under the cabbage and there never will be. The baby came out from Mammy. Your Mammy was only playing with you lot when she said about the cabbages.’

      ‘But Bridget, she did say it,’ I insisted, unconvinced.

      ‘Look, you lot better not go round saying this but that day when your father kicked your mother he kicked the baby out of her. She was pregnant – us older ones knew but you lot didn’t have a clue. All that blood on the ground, that was from the baby. And she was too early and little and that’s why she had to stay in hospital all the time, to get stronger. Now stay away from the farmer and let that be it.’

      We walked back to the wagon in silence. The river water was cold and I shivered as my mind returned to that frightening day that I saw my mother get hurt. I saw the blood stain on the ground. I recalled her haunting cries and the ambulance coming to take her away. I know now how our sister Libby came into this world. Libby was born prematurely, and by the time our parents brought her home she was already four months old.

      With the new addition in the family, the wagon felt more cramped than ever. We were forever climbing over one another, and one day, when Tara and I were playing, Tara was clambering round the stove to get to me when, suddenly, she slipped. One second I saw her, and the next she was gone. She’d fallen straight into the middle of the stove’s chimney stack. Her pitiful screams as her body touched the hot chimney were awful. Mammy bolted to grab Tara, who was now in hysterics, her small body scorched and singed from the fire.

      I watched on, petrified, as Mammy ripped the smouldering clothes off my sister to reveal the red raw burns on her legs and body and her skin bubbling up into sacks of liquid. Mammy worked quickly, dousing Tara with pails of cold water while my father rushed to get the horse and cart. Everything was chaotic. I was glad to see the horse and cart galloping away with both our parents and Tara, who was still crying her eyes out over the pain. At least I knew she was going to get help but I missed Tara terribly. She was much more than my sister; she was my friend and companion. Of all my siblings, we were the closest, and every day without her felt like an age.

      Tara was badly burned on the inside of her thighs and her stomach and she had some smaller burns on her hands. It was a pitiful sight when she finally returned from hospital, struggling to walk because of the pain. She was so miserable that she stayed in bed most of the time. I stayed with her to keep her company and cheer her up as much as I could. She had to go to the clinic a few times to get the bandages re-dressed and it was a week before the pain started to ease and she was able to smile again.

      As if things weren’t bad enough, even the weather conspired against us. It was early winter now and the sky looked constantly dirty and gloomy, never-ending clouds blocking out the sun. One day the wind was so strong and blustery we young ones found it hard to get about. Each time we tried to move from one place to another we were pushed off course by the powerful gusts. At first we laughed as it blew us off our feet but then the leaves and debris started to fly about and we got scared. Daddy was worried too and he called for everyone to come outside the wagons as he threw ropes over them to try and pin them down. But the winds were only getting stronger and the wagons started pitching and shaking from side to side.

      Now the rain pelted down and every minute it seemed the storm was getting worse.

      ‘We need to get to a sheltered area,’ Daddy shouted over the deafening gales. ‘These wagons could go over at this rate!’

      Aidan and Liam nodded, working quickly to tie the horses up to the wagons to drive them down the roadside. There they waited for all of us to get on. We moved as quickly as we could, the air around us now stirred up and swirling with debris. Every second this storm seemed to be gathering momentum and power. The wind pushed at the trees’ branches so they lashed at us like long arms. We were terrified, each of us jumping up into the wagons for safety. Once we were all aboard Daddy let out a massive ‘Yarhh!’, cracked the reins and galloped the horses hard. We rocked and bounced down the road. I could hear the wagon brushing against the trees as we all held tight, petrified for our lives. Daddy drove us as fast as he dared into the woodlands, hoping that the trees would provide us with a bit of shelter. As we came into the thickest part of the wood we all felt the wind lessen around us.

      We stopped, listening, Daddy breathing hard, and just at that moment we heard a tremendous crack, followed by an ear-splitting crash.

      The horses reared up, their ears pinned back in alarm, and we all scrambled out of our wagon to see what had happened. There we saw a tree lying right into the middle of the second wagon. We were stunned. I was so fearful that somebody must be hurt inside but then my brothers and sisters popped out of the wagon one by one, completely unharmed. That night we all slept in the one wagon in the middle of the woods while my father kept watch over us.

      By morning the storm had moved on and we woke to see the second wagon buried under leaves and branches while the tree trunk rested slanted with its root jutting out at the other end. It had fallen right into the middle part of the wagon, leaving a gaping hole in the ceiling. Luckily, Daddy said it looked worse than it actually was and he quickly set about fixing it up with Aidan and Liam.

      Secretly, Tara and I were disappointed. We’d had enough of the wagons now and we’d hoped the storm might signal an end to our hard life on the road. But Daddy wasn’t giving up, even when the weather turned bitterly cold and snow started to come down in thick white clumps. That first winter was so cold that, even huddled together under a blanket, we shivered while we slept. Yes, life aboard the wagons was certainly harder than we’d imagined. I was quietly yearning to be back in a proper house. By summer