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a cup of tea, thinking that might cheer her up after the row with Daddy last night. I put in two extra big sugars and carried the mug upstairs carefully. I gave her a smile when she pushed herself up in bed, took a deep breath and told her I had some great news.

‘Look, Mammy! Look at the dress Mother Clara made for me! I know you said we don’t accept charity but… isn’t it just the most gorgeous dress you’ve ever seen?’

‘It’s no different to the one I gave you,’ was her dead-eyed reaction. ‘You’re not to wear that new dress, Cynthia. I forbid it. You can take it back and tell that nun you already have a perfectly good dress, worn by all the Murphy girls.’

‘But, but…yes, Mammy,’ I said politely, but my mind was already ticking over, hatching another plot.

I rehearsed my plan a hundred times in my head, and when my Communion day came I dutifully put on the old yellow dress.

Daddy and Esther were already waiting in the hallway for me when I ran upstairs at the very last moment to show Mammy how I looked.

She was staying in bed, even though it was a very special occasion celebrated across the whole town, but I didn’t care. It gave me just the excuse I needed to put my plan into action.

There was an old nail jutting out of the wooden headboard on her bed, and when I ran in to show her the dress I ‘accidentally’ tore it on the nail.

‘Oh, Mammy! What am I to do? There’s no time to sew it up. Daddy and Esther are waiting and...oh I suppose I’ll just have to wear that other dress after all…’

Mammy started calling me a clumsy cow, but it was early in the day and she didn’t shift from her bed to stop me changing, just as I expected. Moments later I was dashing out of the house in the new dress. I waved to the neighbours and called out to every friend I spotted all along the route to the Church of the Assumption in Dalkey. This was my big day, and I wanted everyone to see me in all my finery.

The church was packed out, and whispers whipped off the stone floor and up and down the wooden pews. The priest chimed the little bell to signal it was time for us take our First Holy Communion, and my tummy knotted with nerves.

When I finally took the bread it melted in my mouth. Time stood still as I shimmered in my dress and smiled bravely at the congregation, just like all my classmates. I jutted out my chin proudly. I had been right. Nothing had spoilt my day, not even the fact I was the only child without her mammy watching. I pushed that thought straight out of my head. It didn’t matter. Daddy and Esther were here.

After church, I played in the street outside our house for a bit. I knew all the other children who had made their First Communion with me were having big family parties, but we never had parties, even for birthdays. Once, my Uncle Frank, a baker who was married to my mum’s older sister, Mag, brought round a cake for my birthday, but Mammy never did anything for me. She usually sent me to the Golden Gift Shop in the village to buy a present if it was one of my brothers’ birthdays, but when it was my turn I was only allowed to buy a card. Then Mammy would make me write in it myself: ‘Happy Birthday to Cynthia’.

I had already told myself not to expect a present or a card for my Communion. Then I couldn’t be disappointed. I figured the best chance I had of enjoying my day was to stay out of the house for as long as possible. That way Mammy couldn’t say anything nasty or hit me. She couldn’t make me take the dress off. And she couldn’t make me do any chores.

So I hung around outside and joined in a game of ‘two balls’ with my friend from round the corner. It was one of my favourite games, throwing the balls up against the wall one after the other and chanting, ‘Ten girl’s names that I should know, wish me luck and away I go’. I had to say ten girl’s names without stopping and go on to nine boy’s names, eight colours, seven flowers and so on, and when I made a mistake it was someone else’s turn. None of my friends asked me why I was out in the street on my Holy Communion day playing ‘two balls’ in my long dress, instead of having a family party. I loved them for that.

Later, I was allowed to watch telly while Daddy went to the pub. It was a very old set and was often broken, but today really was my lucky day because it was working and I was allowed to choose what I wanted to watch. Mammy always liked to watch the news. She hardly ever went out of the house, and I think it was her way of keeping up with what went on in the neighbourhood. She couldn’t read the newspapers, but she loved to gossip about local goings-on, and so she watched the local news whenever she could.

But today she was still upstairs, and I was still in the dress and was choosing what to watch on telly. I sat neatly on the sofa, crossed my ankles and clutched my handbag and gloves on my lap, feeling like a proper little lady.

Little House on the Prairie, Heidi and Pippi Longstocking were my favourite shows, and I was delighted to find that an episode of Heidi was just starting. It was as if she’d been waiting for me to come in!

Heidi was running across a beautiful open mountainside with rosy cheeks, wearing a fresh cotton dress and shiny shoes, laughing and smiling without

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