Living With Evil by Cynthia Owen (best way to read books .TXT) 📕

much worse. He will explode with anger and start telling anyone, but especially Joe, to ‘Fuck off out of here’.

Mammy will defend her oldest son and start fighting with Daddy. Sometimes, I sit hugging my knees for hours, praying for calm. My mind often clouds over, and I try to think about nice things. Maybe I’ll be allowed to go to school with my big sisters soon? Nobody ever talks to me about school, but I imagine it to be some magical place, like stepping into a whole new shiny world of friends and books and fun.

I don’t think my dream will come true any time soon. I never dare hope that good things might happen to me, ever. Peter is two years older than me, and he doesn’t go to school, so I think I have a long time to wait until I can be a big girl, instead of being stuck in the cold, dark house all day.

But, a few weeks later, Mammy said she had something to tell me. I was surprised because she hardly ever spoke to me or told me anything.

‘Now, Cynthia, you’re going to be starting school tomorrow with your brother,’ she announced, no warmth in her voice at all.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and was worried that Mammy was telling me lies, but she said Peter and I were to join the baby class together, on the very same day!

‘You’re jokin’ me, Mammy, aren’t you? Is it true, is it really true? How come we’re starting together?’

Mammy told me Peter couldn’t start school until he came off the bottle, and now he was six he was old enough to give up his milk. ‘Aren’t you the lucky ones, starting together? It’ll keep the two of you out of trouble,’ she said.

Mammy had another baby by now, my little sister, Mary. I was no longer the baby of the family, and I was starting school. I felt incredibly grown up. I was thrilled to be joining my three big sisters, and delighted my big brother would be in the very same class as me.

Best of all, I didn’t have to stay stuck in the house any more. I hated it. Even having a new baby sister hadn’t made it any more of a home. I loved babies, and Mary was adorable, but she cried a lot and Mammy seemed more tired than ever, because she even slept when Mary was screaming.

I did my best to help Mammy get the milk and change the cloths she used for nappies, because that’s what the older kids were expected to do in our house, but school would be much more fun.

I imagined myself surrounded by hundreds of storybooks and mountains of pens and paper, devouring every word the nuns said to me. That’s what happened at school, wasn’t it? I was sure it would be much better than being at home.

I’d never been shown a book before. I’d been told that Mammy couldn’t read or write, and we had no books in the house. Daddy read the newspapers, and I often looked at the pictures, but he never read anything out to me. Now I was going to learn to read like a big girl, and I couldn’t wait to get started.

I’d make friends too! And not just with the kids who lived in the council houses by us who I saw in the street and the shops sometimes. I’d make friends from all over Dalkey - with kids from the fancy big houses up by the beach and the mansions around Dalkey Hill and Killiney Hill, where Esther sometimes took me for a walk or a picnic.

The night before I started, I picked up a few things about the school from my sisters. I heard it had a great reputation and lots of parents fought over places. We only lived a ten minute walk away, so all the Murphy kids got a place without a fight.

I wanted to make a fine first impression. There was no uniform, so I went rummaging under the stairs.

As well as the clothes Daddy brought home from the jumble sales, there were bags of clothes kind people had left on the doorstep, knowing there were lots of kids to clothe in our house, as well as some navy-blue school knickers donated by the St Vincent de Paul charity.

I was thrilled beyond words when Esther helped me get dressed for my first day. I had a navy skirt I didn’t remember any of my sisters ever wearing, so that was officially mine. I added a long-sleeved shirt, and an old V-neck jumper of Peter’s, I rolled the sleeves up because they were too long. It wasn’t perfect, as girls were meant to wear roundnecks, but I was happy with it all the same.

All I needed was shoes. The only ones that looked the part and more or less fitted had broken buckles, but Mammy told me not to wear them in any case, because I didn’t have any socks. Instead, I finished off my outfit with a pair of blue Wellingtons, and we were off!

Esther walked me and Peter to school on our first morning. I looked at the other kids, all with their mammies, and wished my mammy could walk with me to school too. But I knew she was still in bed. She never walked any of her kids to school or even got up to wave us off.

It didn’t matter. I was beside myself at the thought of meeting the holy nuns who would teach us, imagining them to be very wise and kind old ladies who would fill my head with fascinating facts and amazing stories like the ones Granny told me.

I’d seen nuns at church, even though we hardly ever went. Daddy would go to funerals or First Holy Communions, which were always very big occasions in our village, but Mammy didn’t like going to church at all. She had pictures of the Pope and