Little Drifters: Kathleen’s Story

‘Where are they taking Daddy?’ I asked Bridget as he folded himself into the back seat of their car.

‘Daddy’s not well,’ Bridget said, a dark look on her face. ‘He has to go to the mental hospital.’

I nodded, pretending I knew what she meant, but really I had no idea what a mental hospital was. Later Brian explained: ‘It’s a place to fix Daddy’s head so he thinks better.’

We all agreed that this was a very good idea because Daddy wasn’t thinking too well at the moment. The only problem was that, with both our parents gone, we were left to fend for ourselves. It was Claire and Bridget who took on the responsibility of caring for us children: dressing, feeding and washing us every day.

There were days we had so little to eat they’d put us all in the cart while we travelled from one farmer to the next to beg some food. Luckily, all the farmers were kind and they’d give us eggs, milk and vegetables so we managed to get by until Mammy returned a few weeks later. We were so happy to see her and suddenly felt a lot safer.

A week after that, Daddy came back too. He was more composed and calmer than before and he’d sworn off the drink, which we all thought was for the best.

‘Daddy, what was the mental hospital like?’ Brian asked that evening.

‘Ah, it wasn’t all that nice,’ Daddy said, a little sadly, as he stroked Floss, who probably missed my father the most when he was gone. ‘They give me the electric shocks to get my head straight again.’

‘What’s that, then? Electric shocks?’ Brian was in a curious mood.

‘It’s like being struck by lightning,’ Daddy explained. ‘Like a big bolt of lightning in your head.’

We all gasped in horror – imagine being struck by lightning to make you better! It sounded horrifying. But at least we had our parents back again.

Weeks later my parents announced they had to go into town to get a bit of shopping and they’d be back later in the day. We were desperate to go with them, but no amount of begging and pleading from any of us would change their minds.

‘We have something important to do. We won’t be long,’ my mother said as she pulled on her heavy winter coat and they both started walking down the road.

So we spent the day roaming the fields and climbing trees as usual. On our way home we spotted Mammy and Daddy walking back towards the wagon just ahead of us so we all ran and surrounded them, happy to see them back. My mother was carrying a bundle of blankets in her arms.

Brian asked my mother: ‘What’s that you’re carrying in your arms? In that blanket?’

‘Ah, I got a little sister for you lot. Her name is Libby,’ my mother replied as she gently bent down to show off the baby.

‘Wow, a baby! Where did you get the baby?’ I asked excitedly. We loved babies and we all tried to clamber over my mother to catch a glimpse.

‘Well, we were walking past this farmer’s field and there were cabbages growing there. Mammy saw a leg sticking out and Mammy pulled out this little baby!’ She laughed as she grabbed my hand. We all walked back together, our attention focused on the new addition to the family – a new sister, Libby!

Brian, Tara, Colin and I were out and about the next day with nothing particular planned when Brian had an idea.

‘I want to get myself a baby like our mother did!’ he said. ‘Didn’t she say she got it from under the cabbages? There must be a cabbage field somewhere and we’ll get our own babies to look after. That’s what we’ll do. We could get a few babies each. Now what do you lot think about that? Ain’t that a grand idea!’

Brian beamed. He was always so clever and smart, always the one thinking up the new schemes and games. And this one seemed like a really good idea, one of his best!

So we crossed the fields, skipping along, our strides quickening until we got to the farm. There we saw all the cabbages with the white heads peeking out of the soil.

There were rows and rows of cabbages, hundreds, thousands of them! Where to start? We were already bursting with excitement at the prospect of having all those babies.

Brian went first. He stepped up to the cabbage nearest to him while we stood watching, full of anticipation. He bent down to grab it and started pulling it out of the ground. It wasn’t that easy. He yanked it, left and right, loosening up the soil before giving it one mighty heave and, with a sudden jerk, the cabbage came loose and he stumbled backwards. He threw it to the side then went to investigate the hole that it had left behind. We all peered in beside him, eager to see the baby – but there wasn’t one! We were shocked.

‘I don’t understand.’ Brian was baffled. ‘Mammy said she’d found it under the cabbage.’

Tara chimed in: ‘Maybe there ain’t one under that one, but there could be one under this cabbage.’ And she headed over to another cabbage to start work.

Then we all started pulling up the cabbages, all of us criss-crossing each other as we pulled out the vegetables, then cursing at our luck as we glared into empty holes. We pulled 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.