Little Drifters: Kathleen’s Story

‘For sure, he’s going to kill her this time!’ Tara agreed. Colin was sat in a corner, making marks in the dirt while Brian kept watch at the opening.

‘We can’t go back,’ Brian declared. ‘We don’t want to see poor Mammy dead in the kitchen.’

Brian was always the grown-up one of us – making the decisions that were best for us all. He was right. We’d seen it for ourselves – Daddy had lost control completely this time and there was no way Mammy could survive this attack. We let the hours pass by and must have dropped off for a while because the next thing we heard was my Mammy’s voice calling all our names.

‘Brian! Tara! Kathleen! Colin! Come on, you lot. Come inside now.’

We all looked at each other in surprise – she was alive!

We scrambled to our feet, shivering from being outside so long and having had nothing to eat for our tea. I was so happy to see my Mammy was alive I ran straight into the kitchen to see her, but when I caught sight of her face I almost recoiled in horror. She had the most terrible red eyes you’ve ever seen in your life – like the devil.

I must have looked pretty upset because Mammy said: ‘Now, don’t be making a fuss there, Kathleen. Have your tea now.’

We sat at the table, eating our bread and drinking tea in silence.

Finally Brian asked: ‘Where’s my father, Mammy?’

‘Your father’s down at the pub,’ she replied, busying herself with the cleaning and washing up.

Some time later, when we were all finished and warming up by the fire, Aidan and Liam came back from working in the fields.

They were talking loudly and being boisterous between them until they caught sight of Mammy.

‘Jesus! Mammy! What did he do to you?’ Liam exclaimed loudly.

‘What did he do to me?’ Mammy spat bitterly. ‘What does it look like he did?’

‘That’s it, Mammy!’ he said. ‘That’s the final straw there. I’m going to kill my Daddy for what he’s done.’

Liam was boiling with rage. He couldn’t bear to see what my father had done – none of us could. We couldn’t look Mammy in the face. It was horrible to see those red swollen eyes.

‘Don’t be saying that now, Liam.’ Mammy shook her head.

‘No, really! I’m going to kill him!’

‘You can’t kill your father,’ she repeated. Now she was stood against the wall as Liam paced back and forth in the room. ‘You better not be touching your father,’ she warned him again. Aidan meanwhile was sat silent next to us, staring into the fire, a look of utter despair on his face. He caught Liam’s eyes – I could tell what he was thinking right there. We all could. He wanted Daddy dead too.

Nothing more was said but Mammy set about getting the older boys their tea. None of us wanted to go to bed that night. We were all too shaken up by what had happened and we needed the comfort of the fire and each other. Liam went upstairs. He seemed in a strange mood but we tried not to pay it any mind. Liam was always trying to protect our Mammy but it often left him battered himself from Daddy’s violent outbursts.

It was late when my father finally staggered in, up to the eyeballs with the drink. He didn’t look at my Mammy. Nobody said a word. He just plonked himself on a stool by the range and sat there, warming his hands and feet at the fire. He couldn’t have been there more than a few minutes before we heard the clump-clump of Liam’s feet overhead. Then he flew down the stairs in a second and before we knew what was happening he came up behind my father and whacked him over the head with a large ashtray.

In a stomach-churning whump we heard the ashtray make contact with Daddy’s skull and then his head split open and blood started pouring out.

‘Liam! No!’ Mammy screamed.

But it was too late – Daddy’s head was oozing thick dark blood. He hadn’t even fallen off his stool – he just rocked back and forth slightly, not saying a word. Then he staggered to his feet as Liam stood back, breathing hard, a look of pure hate on his face.

We could all see he was drawing his arm back to go at Daddy again.

‘Stop, Liam! Don’t!’ Mammy screeched, racing over to Liam and grabbing hold of his arm, pinning it back at his side. They struggled like that for a bit as Daddy swayed from side to side before stumbling out the front door.

‘Let me go, Mammy!’ Liam was shouting. ‘I’m gonna kill him!’

Mammy ran to the door and shut it against my father, then leaned back on it to stop Liam from following Daddy outside.

‘Please, Liam, don’t do this!’ she was crying, pleading with him now. ‘Think of the little ones!’

‘I am!’ Liam roared. ‘I AM thinking of the little ones. He’s killing us all!’

‘No, no, no,’ Mammy sobbed. ‘You can’t do this. You can’t kill that man.’

We were all too shocked to move or do anything for a while as the two of them stood there at the door, my Mammy distraught but determined not to let my brother out, Liam, shaking and hollering.

Finally, Tara and me got up and went to stand with Mammy, by her side. We couldn’t let Liam kill our daddy. For all the wrong that he’d done, we all still loved him. Tears now were pouring down my cheeks as I shouted at my brother: ‘Leave him alone, Liam! You’ve can’t kill our daddy. You leave him be!’

He looked down at us then and his eyes filled with tears. Just then all the fight seemed to go out of him, his body slumped forward, he dropped the ashtray and he turned and walked back to the fire. I buried my head in Mammy’s skirts then and she held onto the back of my head and we stood there like that, all crying and heaving with the terror of it all.

Now it was Daddy we thought was dead. There was no doubt about it, Liam had given him a fearful crack on the skull. How could a man survive a thing like that? After a while, Mammy wiped her arm across her face and we all went back to the range. Once she was convinced Liam had finally calmed down she said to us: ‘Come on. Let’s see if we can find your father.’

So we carefully opened up the front door, half expecting to see him laying down dead on the path. But there was nothing, just a few spots of blood on the path leading out the front gate to the lane.

‘Where is he, Mammy?’ Tara asked.

‘I don’t know, baby,’ she replied, herself looking confused and worried. We searched all over the place that night but there was no sign of Daddy at all. We crawled into bed later, the four of us, and Brian said he thought maybe Daddy had gone to the woods to die.

Tara and I cried quietly into each other’s shoulders then, sorry for Liam killing our daddy.

It was a pure miracle Daddy survived that night. A farmer found him unconscious on the road and picked him up and took him to the hospital. The next day, as we were having our breakfast, the Garda came knocking at the door. They told my mother Daddy was being looked after in the hospital and he should be back in a few days.

We all held our breath, half expecting them to take Liam off to jail, but they didn’t say anything else. Mammy nodded and thanked them. They couldn’t have helped seeing her eyes, all still red and bloodshot from where Daddy nearly strangled her to death. A few days later Daddy was back and nobody said anything about what had happened. We thought it would all blow over, just like all them other fights they’d had before. But, though we didn’t know it then, Mammy had made a decision that night, a decision that would change all our lives for ever.

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.

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