Rose of Tralee Read Free Page A

The large scrubbed wooden table had a box of cheap cutlery at one end and four tin plates and mugs at the other. In the centre was a tottering pile of dry linen, awaiting the iron, while under the table lurked a large basket full of what looked like folded – and ironed – sheets, pillowslips and tablecloths. There was a rug by the fire, made of pieces of brightly coloured rag, the back of it sacking, the edges neatened with a border of raffia, and on the topmost sheet was an apple and a sheet of paper.
    Caitlin dived for the apple with a squeak of joy but Colm grabbed her before she could snatch it up. ‘There’s a note from Mammy on the paper, Cait,’ he said rather breathlessly. ‘Let me read it forst, then we’ll have halves, eh?’
    ‘Sure,’ Caitlin said cheerfully. She stood back, staring up at him as he perused the lines. ‘What’s it say, Colm?’
    ‘It says to scrub the spuds an’ then to tek the basket of linen round to the back door of the Merrill place in St Stephen’s Green Street South and knock the door. The housekeeper’ll give us one an’ ninepence for the washin’.’ He stopped reading and heaved a sigh. ‘There! Mammy’s not supposed to do that old crow’s washin’, she’s got enough on her plate, so she has, but at least she’ll be paid for it this time.’
    ‘What’s one an’ ninepence?’ Caitlin said as her brother went over to the washstand and poured water from a bucket which lurked beneath it into the round blue basin that stood on the top. ‘Is it money, Colm?’
    ‘That’s it,’ Colm said. He crossed the room to where a box full of potatoes stood against the wall, neatly hidden from view by a clean but ragged piece of cloth. ‘How hungry are ye, Caitlin? One spud or two?’
    ‘T’ree,’ Caitlin said promptly. Ever since her third birthday she had understood three and had used it whenever she could do so. ‘Can I pick ’em out, Colm?’
    ‘No, ’cos they’re covered wit’ earth, so they are, an’ you’ll get your little pawses all filt’y,’ Colm told her. ‘Besides, they’re huge ole spuds, alanna. I doubt you’ll ate two of ’em, let alone t’ree.’ He saw his small sister’s lower lip begin to wobble ominously and saidhastily: ‘You can fetch me the piece o’ salt, though, from the cupboard. Or will it be too heavy for you? ’Tis on the bottom shelf, in a brown paper.’
    Whilst Caitlin stood on tiptoe to open the cupboard door Colm hastily chose three enormous potatoes and stuck them in the water, forgetting to knock the worst of the earth off them first so that the water quickly began to resemble a swamp. Sighing, he did as good a cleaning job on them as he could under the circumstances, then put them into the large blackened pan which stood between the buckets beneath the washstand. One bucket was for slops, the other for fresh water, and he saw with dismay that by the time he’d covered the potatoes with water he would have to go down to the ground floor to replenish the bucket, as well as taking the other one to empty the mixture of water and mud which his carelessness had brought about. It was a nuisance, because he had planned to put the potatoes to one side of the fire, then take the empty bucket in one hand and carry the basket of clean linen in the other, but now he would have to make a double journey.
    ‘Here’s the salt, Colm,’ a small voice said breathlessly at about pocket level. Colm grinned at his little sister and took the big chunk of salt, the size – and weight – of a housebrick, from her. He stood it on the dry piece of the washstand and chipped a piece about the size of a walnut off it with the old kitchen knife which Mammy kept especially for the purpose, then handed the salt back to Caitlin, who received it in both arms and staggered proudly back to the cupboard with her burden. ‘Is there anythin’ else I can fetch for you, Colm?’ she asked, slamming the salt down on the lowest shelf with an audible crash.