A Bit of Fish

Nana was the roly-poly woman. Mammy said that when they got older she and Grampa would move to a nice little flat because the stairs in 35 would be too much. Hugh thought that Nana would never get old. She was the best grown-up in the world. She liked sweets and had lots of funny voices that she used in stories. She used to tell stories when she was babysittin’. Joseph was the baby. Hugh was a big boy now. The boys were always asking Mammy and Daddy to go out so Nana could mind them. That meant they were in the bed, Joseph at one end and Hugh at the other, all tucked in under the green eiderdown and tight blankets with clean white sheets and The Ugly Duckling ready for Nana to read till they fell asleep. Mammy and Daddy owned the big bed that they weren’t allowed to jump on. Nana sat on the chair and read the story until she got fed up.

First she’d start reading The Ugly Duckling like she was going to do what Mammy said. Then she’d make a queer face and say ‘I think this Ugly Ducklin’ fella is cracked.’ The boys would be delighted. ‘Little Red Riding Hood Nana, tell us about Little Red Riding Hood.’ ‘She’s cracked too.’ ‘Ah Nana.’ ‘Go on Nana.’ ‘Well you’ll have to be very quiet.’ ‘We will.’ Hugh and Joseph snuggle down like mice. ‘Once upon a time …’ Nana looks around to make sure no-one is listenin’ … ‘AaaaarrrRRR!’ She pounces. The boys squirm in terror and delight. ‘Nana! What about ‘what great big eyes you have’?’ ‘The wolf was starvin’. He got the early bus.’

Little Red Riding Hood was Hugh’s favourite because he liked when Nana went to gobble him up. The red candlewick meant she was meant to be the wolf but the boys always knew that it was Nana. ‘Eat me Nana.’ ‘Eat me Mr Wolf.’ ‘You can’t get me Mrs Wolf.’ ‘Hahaha Mrs Fatsodatso Wolf.’ ‘I’m not fat!’ ‘Is that so Mrs Fatso?’ Nana would growl and shake the eiderdown in her teeth. Aaarrghghgh! Then she’d pull it back and all the blankets and tickle Hugh’s belly first and then she’d eat him. ‘No Nana, you’re not fat. I’ll be good. I’ll be good. You’re not fat Mr Wolf haha sto-op.’ His pyjamas would be all pulled up. Nana’s lipstick marks were meant to be the blood. ‘Me Nana me!’ Joseph’d say and then Nana would go down to him. ‘Nana Banana the big fat Nana.’ ‘Who said that? Come here till I brain ye’ Nana would say but she’d keep doin’ Joseph. Then they would tickle her and make the fat wobble on her arms and she’d start laughing until she couldn’t stop.

At first they wouldn’t know what to do because they’d never seen a grown-up goin’ like that before. ‘Don’t look at me in that tone of voice’ she’d say in a real cross voice and then she’d be off laughin’ again. Then a wet facecloth would come floppin’ into your face and on to the bed. ‘Have a bit o’ fish’ she’d say and we’d pick up the facecloth and throw it at each other and at Nana and the bedclothes would all be in a mess and we didn’t care because Nana was Mammy’s Mammy so Mammy couldn’t say anything but she did when she came home with Daddy and we were still awake and not properly in bed and Nana would have the red cover from the big bed around her shoulders and there’d be sweet papers on the floor and the bed wouldn’t be made and Mammy would say ‘Mammy you’re worse than the children’ and Nana would say ‘I am not!’ Then she’d put her hand up to her mouth and make funny faces when Mammy’s back was turned and we’d start laughin’ again and Mammy would turn around and look at us till we stopped and Nana would put her finger in her mouth and make a loud poppin’ noise and look surprised and that would start us off again. ‘Jerciful Maysus who did that?’ You did Nana. You did!’ ‘I did not!’ ‘Yes you did. You did!’ ‘Are you dickeracontin’ me?’ ‘Mammy I’m trying to put them down. They should be asleep.’ ‘Go asleep,’ says Nana in her cross Wolf voice. ‘Mammy?’ What is it Hugh?’

‘Jerciful Maysus! Hahaha.’

Then Nana would break into hysterics again, an endless panting, wheezy laugh that was so infectious even Mammy would sometimes smile and Daddy would say ‘We’re goin’ to have to do somethin’ about that woman’ and then he’d get it too. ‘Give over you. Here, have a bit o’ fish’ and the boys would be rollin’ around because Nana wouldn’t care if he was wearin’ his good suit and he had to laugh because the way she laughed was so funny. And the boys would be puttin’ their fingers in their mouth and tryin’ to pop their gums and Nana would take out her teeth and bite them like Mrs Wolf did on your belly and Mammy would say ‘I’m glad you decided to come so I could have a night off’ and Nana would have to put her teeth away.

*

Grampa could be very strict. Sometimes he got angry if he was cuttin’ your hair and you wouldn’t stay still. Other times he would put you on his scooter and take you for a spin. You started in the Back Lane because Grampa kept his scooter in the shed. Then you went past Bolger’s garage at the top and turned ‘round into Pleasant Street. Mr Bolger’s name was Fod. That was a funny name. Sometimes you just went out the front and Grampa brought the scooter ‘round himself. Hugh felt real important when John Tomlin saw him gettin’ on. Then they’d have to go ‘round the block to end up facin’ Phoenix Park. It’s too dangerous to turn into the traffic. Grampa was a fireman so he knows. In Grantham Street you passed by Go-Go’s. That was number 10. Nana lived in number 35. The scooter helped him understand that they were different streets. You went very fast, much faster than runnin’ and you didn’t have to move! You just stood there, behind the windshield, inside Grampa’s knees, holdin’ on. At the top of Pleasant Street you turned down to New Bride Street, past Freddy Carol’s and the Meath and the little houses where Dermot Reagan lived and the Iveagh Flats. Grampa beeped if you got stopped at the lights and Nana would come to the window and wave down. Then the lights would change and you’d be off again, past Jacobs and the place your Daddy used to live and the Bird Market where he bought Dick-a-Budgie for Joseph’s birthday and the old flats where Aunt Rooney lived. Hugh wondered what happened to Aunt Rooney’s middle name. He knew a boy called Thomas Rooney from the Iveagh Flats. His Mammy cut Nana’s hair. Hugh went up once but he didn’t like the smells and thought the big helmet things they put on women’s heads would hurt Nana but she laughed and gave him a cream slice so it was alright. You can’t remember things on the scooter because you’re goin’ too fast, only sometimes at the lights when Grampa doesn’t shout into your ear to explain. It’s nice shoutin’, like if he wants you to look at things. It’s great goin’ up the cobbles at Christchurch. There’s loads of bumps and Grampa has to go very slow and you think you’re goin’ to fall off but you never do. Then you speed away up Thomas Street, the fastest of all. You see loads of shops and places you don’t know and the wind whips under your shorts and around your legs and your quiff’s blowin’ like crazy but you don’t mind because it feels great, like you’re nearly flyin’. Grampa tells you this is James’ Street where Nana used to live and you like it. Then he drives you past an island with a bridge or something before you turn for Phoenix Park. You know Rowntrees, he shouts, the sweets? That’s where your Nana used to work. I already know that. She had to wear a paper hat. The road is lovely and bumpy and goes up an’ down like in a carnival and you can see the monument stickin’ up over the trees and Grampa takes you along the Liffey if it’s an extra-long spin and in the Chapelizard gate to see the deers. We stop at the roadside if they’re munchin’ grass and Grampa tells me every time ‘That’s where your Daddy footballs it of a Saturday.’ I know, its name is the fifteen acres. Five-ten-fifteen-twenty. I like the tree parts better. It’s like Sherwood Forest in Robin Hood Book for Boys 1958. I’m a great little reader. The President lives in a big house over there. What’s the President? A man with a big job, like the king. The king was in his counting house, counting out his money, Hugh was on the scooter tryin’ to be funny. Grampa I said a poem. He can’t hear me with the engine and the wind. Grampa wears a helmet. Look at the men playin’ polo, over there on the horses. They have kind of helmets. It’s easier for Grampa to shout. His face is right behind my ear. His moustache makes me itchy and there’s a funny …nnngggg… sound after if he puts his mouth too near. I’m not allowed to turn around. I have to stand up straight and keep still or he won’t be able to take me anymore. My hands hold the front bit under the windshield. They only feel a bit cold after we stop. There’s the Zoo. There’s big lions and tigers in there that’d eat ye. They couldn’t while I’m on Grampa’s scooter unless they escaped but we’re goin’ down the hill now out of the park so they’d never catch up. The next part is the Liffey. I wonder if scooters can slip on a banana skin and fly over the wall and me an’ Grampa’d get drowned and everbody’d be cryin’ and Mammy says no such a thing and say Grampa and I and it’s true he does be very careful and goes in a straight line and you never really do think that you’re goin’ to go flyin’ over when you’re beside the river and you can smell Guinness’s on one side and there’s the barracks on the other and in two bridges time you’ll be turnin’ unless Grampa makes it extra-extra-long. ‘Would you like to go in for a glass of porter?’ he shouts even though Mammy said he isn’t to put the idea into my head. Grampa likes a drop of porter but only now and again. I like it when the brown stuff gets stuck on his moustache. Grampa’s moustache is like the hard brush the Currans use to sweep the yard except it’s got bits of grey mixed with the brown and red. Mammy says it’s very military. I forget what that means. Grampa’s very proud of his fireman uniform. He’s a gentleman with a very nice manner and now he’s takin’ me on a really long go up to O’Connell Bridge. That’s where Town is. Town is the name of the centre of Dublin, where Clery’s is and the other big shops. I live in Dublin 8. I know Grampa’s takin’ me back there now and I’m nearly dizzy from goin’ halfway ‘round the world. He doesn’t tell me so much on the way home but I know that’s the Bank of Ireland, where they keep all the money. I’d like to go in and see it sometime. I wonder how they stop it from fallin’ down all over the place. This is another street that takes you up to George’s Street and that’s nearly home and there’s Pims and that’s the Market Arcade shut now with big iron gates across. Nana’s sweetshop is in there. I wonder if she leaves her white coat or does she bring it home? Grampa? He can’t hear me. I remember that she leaves it there. There’s Dockrells where you have to stand for hours and Whitefriar Street where they have special priests called Carmelites. That’s like carmels. Nana likes carmels. Or caramels. Caramelites! She sells them in her sweetshop haha. Nana sells chocolate priests, and toffee ones. And jellies. Black babies. Jelly priests. Can I have a quarter of Caramelites please? Mammy wouldn’t like that. I’m not to be cheeky. Carmelshites haha. I can’t say that to anyone. Carmelshites. Carmelshites. Carmelshites. Aw! We’re not goin’ to Nana’s. Straight into Wexford Street. There’s Angelo’s, and Hector Value, and Gorevan’s where you got lost. In the revolvo door and you forgot to get out and you’re back in the street except you don’t know where you are and you’re cryin’ like you never seen it before and Mammy comes out and takes you from the lady and says she’s terribly sorry and she brings you into the shop and sits you down and you see your chubby face and good coat in the mirror and mammy’s lookin’ at gloves and why do they call it Wexford Street when Wexford is a far place that Auntie Peg goes to on her holidays and you’re past the Deluxe now and back in Pleasant Street and there’s all the home places like the Step Inn and the Olympic and the Slaughter House and the Scrap Merchants where all the dirty men work that are always black from head to toe. Do their Mammies tell them to get dirty before they go to work? He wasn’t sure. I wasn’t. I didn’t know what all the squeals meant in the slaughter house, or why there was always such a stench after the livestock trucks had been.

*

Your legs are all wobbly when you get off but only for a minute. Then Joseph cries and says he wants a go but Grampa only takes him around the block because he’s little. Then he puts the scooter in the shed and comes up for a cuppa tea. Mammy says ‘How’s Mammy?’ and he rolls his eyes and says ‘Don’t be talkin’’ and Mammy says ‘Why? What’s she doin’ now?’ They like talkin’ about my Nana.

*

Mrs Wolf had great big lips that were made to eat ice cream. They reminded him of jelly and kisses and strawberry sauce dripping from a giant-size cone. Knickerbocker Glories were Nana’s favourite meal but she cooked bacon and cabbage of a Sunday. She always got lost when Grampa took her on holidays. He worked in the airport so they were able to see the world. Every time he’d look around, no matter where they were, Nana would be talkin’ to someone or else she’d be missin’, so he spent one half of the time lookin’ for her and the other half tryin’ to get her to move.

‘Jaysus Sheila,’ he said, ‘she has me demented. I was tryin’ to get her to come to the mass at eleven and I said to her ‘Mam, will you not be standin’ talkin’ or it’ll be time for the Communion’ and do you know what she said?’ ‘What?’ ‘It’s not goin’ to get cold, is it?’ ‘She didn’t!’ ‘Cool as you like. Then she met Mrs … Paddy the Paperman’s wife at the corner and they went off yakkin’ straightaway so I said ‘Mam’ and she didn’t pay a blind bit of notice so I just left her.’ ‘So did she not get mass after?’ ‘I don’t know. I just went for me walk after and I came up here.’ ‘She’s probably down with Mrs Mac, is she?’ ‘I don’t know.’

Mammy said it was most unlike her Daddy to use that language and Nana must really have tormented him this time. He would never say anything like that if the boys were around. They forgot about my hide-out under the table.

*

New Bride Street was where Nana went to live when she got married. Hugh figured that out by himself. 35 was more her house because Grampa had to go to work. When you stand on the armchair you can look down and see people goin’ in the Flats. Cars are lovely when you’re lookin’ down. You can lean right out and see where you stand waitin’ for Nana if someone holds you. Sometimes you want to do a spit. That’s very bold.

*

Nana was mostly in if you were sent down on a message. She said Grampa’s name was Joe Soap and that he was cracked. When you got to the door you had to shout up because the bell was very high. First you asked Mr Saunders in the shop if he’d seen Mrs Lynch goin’ out. He always knew because she would shout funny things at him on the way. Mr Saunders liked woodbines and had brown fingers. He used to do sums on the paper for wrappin’ bread. Hugh had to wait before he could ask because he didn’t want to be rude. He knew the answer while Mr Saunders was still addin’ up the ones. Mr Saunders was an expert on the weather. People in the Flats asked him if it was goin’ to rain before they bought stuff for goin’ to the sea.

Hugh waits till the traffic is quiet before he shouts ‘Nana’. He tries to do it in one big voice so he won’t look stupid standin’ there callin’ up over and over. Nana lives on the top floor, two floors over Saunders’ and Jack’s. Other people live over Glennon’s. As soon as she hears you, her head pops out the bedroom window and she disappears with a smile. Then she’d be at the door givin’ you a hug for comin’ down all by yourself. You go up the step and get pulled into the soft place women have on their chests. Nana’s is very big and smells like laundry but it’s only for a minute so you don’t mind.

Later, as you got bigger and could reach, the key would come sailin’ out the window in a glove. That saved Nana havin’ to do the stairs. Sometimes she’d look first, mostly she wouldn’t. You had to run to catch it or warn people that it would be coming. Then if they saw you waiting, the neighbours would know they needed to take care. Nobody minded. They all said Nana was a great little woman. Her face would appear out the window after the throw and some woman from the Flats would look up, shaking her fist.

Nana beams down. ‘I was aimin’ at my grandson. I do fire it at him.’ The woman looks at me. ‘That’s my grandson, Shela’s eldest.’ ‘Ah, are you Sheila’s boy? God he’s the spit of you Missus. Hello Love.’ ‘Hello.’ ‘Well I’ll be seein’ ye Missus.’ ‘And I’ll be suin’ ye. Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry?’ Other women look up and start talking before the first one leaves. I’m afraid she’ll lean out too far and flatten them all. ‘How are ye Missus Lynch?’ ‘I’m dyin’.’ ‘Ah you poor thing!’ Then they see her smile and realise they’re being conned. ‘You’re a terrible woman Missus.’ ‘Is that a true lie or a damn lie?’ She keeps them talking while I hover, waiting for an opportunity to ease into the sanctuary of the hall.

1992