Little Drifters: Kathleen’s Story

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.

Chapter 5

Needles and Haystacks (#u609982a6-788d-5dd7-b273-1f9e8879f02c)

Claire had had enough of our hard life, and though just 15 and 16, she and Bridget decided to strike out on their own. The Legion of Mary charity helped them get nursing apprenticeships in Dublin, and just a few weeks after the horse’s bite they both left. Daddy couldn’t believe it – he was terribly fond of them both, but especially Claire. We all cried when they had to go – we loved our older sisters so much, they had brought us up and cared for us for so long. I didn’t know it then but I wasn’t to see Claire again for another ten years. Now we were left alone and, when Mammy was gone, it fell to me and Tara to look after the little babies. We did our best but it wasn’t easy – we were just five and six ourselves. One time Lucy found a bottle of medicine and drank it all. She was limp and floppy by the time Mammy got back and rushed her to hospital but luckily she survived.

One day, not long after Bridget and Claire left, a car pulled up by the wagons. Four people got out – a worker from the Legion of Mary whom we knew, a man that looked like a doctor and two others.

From what we could make out, they were chatting to my mother about the ‘im-you-nice-ay-shun’ of the children.

‘We’ve been looking to do it for a long while now,’ they were telling Mammy. ‘But we kept missing you. Every time we came to find you you’d moved on.’

We all listened curiously, not having a clue what they were going on about. Mammy went into the wagon and brought out Lucy. We saw the doctor open a large black case then a pull out a giant needle.

He attached a little vial of liquid to the top, tapped the needle then sunk the whole thing into Lucy’s chubby little leg. Poor Lucy screamed her little heart out but the doctor just went on with his work, pulling out another vial now and asking Mammy to bring Libby.

Just then the penny dropped and Brian, Tara, Colin and myself realised that we were next! Brian was out of the back window of the wagon like a shot of lightning and Tara, Colin and myself scrambled out quickly behind. We knew we had to get as far away as possible from that gigantic needle so we scattered all about the place. The folks from the Legion of Mary saw what we were doing then and shouted at my brothers: ‘Quick! Catch them!’

Aidan and Liam set off in pursuit but, try as they might, they couldn’t catch us because they were laughing so much. We darted in and out of the campsite, Mammy shouting at us to come back, Liam and Aidan dodging and weaving about, trying to pin us down. Eventually I felt Aidan’s firm grip on my leg and I fell face down into the dirt.

‘No, Aidan! Don’t let them do that to me!’ I begged, bucking and kicking at my brother.

I could hear Brian a way off, shouting and swearing his head off: ‘Let go of me, you feckin’ bastard!’

Someone else had hold of Tara.

‘Mammy!’ she screeched, petrified. ‘Save us, Mammy!’

But Mammy just looked on, unconcerned, now holding two bawling infants. Our brothers dragged us back to the doctor and I was trembling with terror as I saw the needle and felt it prick my leg. The pain seared up the side of my thigh and I cried out, terrified, until I felt my brother’s grip loosen and the doctor, having completed his task, moved on to the next one.

The next day Tara, Colin, Brian and myself resolved to get as far away from camp as possible. We didn’t want any more nasty surprises.

‘Come on!’ Brian yelled when he spotted the hay barn we loved to play in. It was one of our favourite games – we liked to pile bales of hay one on top of the other so that eventually we had a hay tower all the way to the top of the barn. That day we’d just built our tower to the top and we were climbing down again – I was in front with Tara and Colin behind me. There was just a little ledge at each level so you had to go down carefully from one level to the next. But Colin was impatient and pushed me from behind before I could get down. I missed my footing and fell all the way from the top of the tower to the very bottom. On the way, my leg got caught between two bales and my body twisted round. I felt something snap then and a stinging sensation in my leg as I came to a stop at the bottom. The others followed quickly behind and jumped down to the ground before running out of the barn, hardly paying me any mind. I wanted to run after them but I was dazed from the fall and my leg was still stinging. I tried to ease myself off the ground but my leg refused to move. So instead I crawled out of the hay barn with my arms.

I’d just got myself out into the yard of the farm when Tara came running back.

‘Come on, come on, Kathleen,’ she urged. ‘What’s wrong with you? Get up and walk.’

‘Tara, I can’t feel my leg,’ I told her. ‘I can’t even move it.’

All I could feel was this dreadful stinging.

Then she looked down and let out an awful scream. I followed the path of her gaze down my leg and got the fright of my life. All along my ankle I could see my white bones sticking out.