About Matilda (21 page)

Tell me now, Margaret, did you buy that dress in London? Of course you did, I could tell by looking. You wouldn't see the likes anywhere here and isn't it only a fabulous day for you now. You don't always get weather like this in May. Weren't you lucky just the same? God no, Annie, I couldn't touch
another drop of sherry. Well, maybe just one more, the blessing of the Virgin Mary aren't you only great now, so you are.

The other women laugh, Don't be talkin' about virgins on a day like this, Hannah. Hannah giggles and offers her glass to Nanny. Just a little more, Annie, a little, that's grand now.

Pippa nods towards the window and squeezes my arm so tight the blood stops flowing. I see them through the netted curtains walking up the footpath. High hats and grey suits. Uncle Philip and Uncle John. For once I wish my father were here.

Nanny goes to the sitting room to tell Grandad Margaret is ready. I don't understand why Margaret and Grandad are leaving first. Why can't we go first and be at the chapel before them? I don't ask though in case it's a stupid question and you can't ask grown-ups stupid questions when they're full of sherry.

Everyone goes out to the front garden. The afternoon sun is high above the red-brick chimney of Denny's meat factory and the sky is blue and clear. The boys are playing football on the street. The girls come to the garden gate to watch Margaret walking out the footpath on Grandad's arm and they say, Oh, isn't she lovely? Pippa and me hold hands by the door because we don't know where the safest place is, the house or the garden. But we agree, no matter what, we're not to take money from our uncles.

Promise me now, Pippa.

I promise, Matilda. You know I wouldn't do that.

Yes, you would.

I know I would but I won't today.

When Margaret leaves with Grandad I watch the second car pull up to the gate. The driver gets out and holds the back door open for Nanny. Uncle Philip and Uncle John are leaning
on the garden wall chatting to Mossy Brennan. Pippa tightens her grip on my hand when Nanny tells them to make sure the doors are locked before they leave. Pippa says, Matilda, ask Nanny if we can go with her. But Nanny is already getting in the car with Danny and Sheamie and Mona. We're left at the front door surrounded by neighbours mad to chat because the weather is nice and they're all pissed on sherry and we don't know what to do till Nanny calls to us, Would you two hurry up, there's room for everyone, and I never ran out that footpath as fast in me life.

After the wedding we go to the Bridge Hotel and, even though we've spent all morning getting ready, the five of us look like Sheps. Our clothes are clean, but tatty and out of date. The lobby is full of relations we've never met. The men in suits, the women in long frocks, and they all know who we are. Peter's children, God help them.

Here, girl, put that in your pocket.

Thank you.

Which one are you?

Matilda.

The function room is packed. We sit by the window with Nanny, Grandad, Uncle James the millionaire, Aunt Peg and our cousin Jennifer. Women in dainty white hats and frilly white aprons bring food on trolleys and it never ends until our bellies are stuffed. Roast beef, roast pork, ham, turkey and sherry trifle. Danny thinks he died and went to Heaven. His round brown eyes pop out every time he fills his gob and, if Sheamie ate everything in the Bridge Hotel, he'd still be the skinniest boy I ever saw.

After the meal we move to the bar while the tables are cleared. The bar smells of beer and cigarette smoke and
everywhere there's a clinking of glasses. The five of us are standing at the bar with Nanny when Uncle Philip walks in jingling the change in his trouser pocket.

Everyone having a good time, I hope. What can I get you to drink, Mammy?

A sherry. And don't move from here. I'm going to find your father.

Nanny squeezes her way through the crowd. Uncle Philip smiles down at me like he expects me to smile back. I want to run after Nanny but all I can do is gawk around the room like I hardly notice he's here. Uncle James's four sons are standing by the window with glasses in their hands. They're men now and they talk about their careers in the bank, the law, the civil service and a thing called the stock market, where you can make money for nothing. Returns, it's all about returns. Things I haven't a clue about and I think how I was nearly their sister if my father had let Danny and me live with Uncle James when we were young. Would I be like a sister to them now or would they talk about returns while they treated me like a maid in a little white hat, fetching and carrying and wiping their arses in general?

Uncle Philip takes a fistful of change from his pocket and starts sharing it out between the five of us. Mona snaps the hand of him. So does Danny. Sheamie counts his.

Here, Matilda. Put that in your pocket.

No, thanks.

Go on, take it.

No, thanks.

What about you, Pippa?

Pippa's pink cheeks turn scarlet. She lowers her head and her bright blue eyes lift to plead with me for help, but Pippa doesn't need help because Nanny is back with Grandad wondering where can we sit and didn't you get that sherry yet, Philip?

Just giving the kids a few bob, Mammy. I'll get it now.

Oh, says Nanny. There's a surprise. Wouldn't you think he'd have bought himself a suit?

I know before I turn round. One look at Sheamie's long face is enough to know it's my father. Sheamie is fit to cry because he won't be able to run away until my father goes back to London. He'd be too scared to chance it.

Sheamie might be upset but I feel like I've been let out of jail. My father is at the door with Mona. He bends and puts his arms around Mona's slim waist and kisses her on the lips. I run to kiss his cheek and this time I really mean it. I'm safe from Uncle Philip when my father is here. My father isn't that bad and he looks great in his new blue jeans, blue T-shirt and black runners, not giving a shit what anyone thinks. I like that about him and I don't feel different in my blue poncho anymore. My father is here and I'm safe. Nothing else matters.

We move back to the function room. The hotel lights are turned down. Above our heads a great silver ball spins and catches the light like a million tiny mirrors. The tables have been moved back to the walls and there's a space in the middle of the room for dancing. The bar is full all day. Some men never leave it. Uncle James stands there rubbing his fat belly, drinking whiskey soda and buying a drink for anyone that stands near. I hear his deep voice every time I go to the toilet.

Put your money away, it's no good here.

Uncle John is on his own. He's perched, like an eagle, at the end of the bar, surrounded by a cloud of cigarette smoke and the stink of his own farts. His claws wrapped around a fresh pint of stout and his beak stained black from the last one.

White tablecloths are covered with glasses. Empty, half empty, full. Stout, beer, ale, red and white wine. Grandad swirls his brandy glass while he puffs on a fat cigar like a Texan. There's a band, three men in shiny red shirts and black
waistcoats playing guitar and a fourth playing drums and singing into the microphone. There's a small black box in front of them with flashing lights that change colour with the music, and all I want to do is dance and dance but I wouldn't dare. I've never danced before.

I'm sitting beside my father. Sheamie is on the other side of him drinking Coke and talking to one of Uncle James's sons about stock markets and stuff, even though a fool could see he's just being nice to Sheamie 'cos it's a wedding and any other time he wouldn't give Sheamie the steam off his piss. Mona is across from me drinking white wine. Daddy said she's old enough. She's almost fifteen. Pippa is sitting beside Mona drinking lemonade, looking around at everyone. Danny is sitting beside Grandad drinking Grandad's stout when he thinks Grandad isn't looking. Everyone stands and cheers when the bride and groom stand up to dance. Nanny and Grandad dance next and before the first song is over the dance floor is covered in suits and frocks.

Jennifer, the flower girl, is dancing with her father, our Uncle James. She looks pretty in that pink dress and the ribbons in her hair. My feet are tapping under the table to the beat and when the music gets faster my arse starts banging off the seat. The chair legs bang off the floor and I'm having a great time till one chair leg lands on my father's foot and, when I look down, his runner is tore. The yellow eyes glare at me. Oh, fuck, I'm dead.

Like dancing, do you, Matilda?

Sorry, Daddy. It was an accident.

He bends down slowly to take off his runners and suddenly dancing doesn't seem such fun. He leaves the runners under the table and stands up over me. The disco lights flickering across his forehead make him look like he's covered in confetti.

Come on, he says, follow me.

I said I was sorry, Daddy. It was an accident.

And I said, follow me.

I know he's bringing me outside for a beating. Making a show, no, an example of me. Making me feel less than I do already in front of our relations with their suits and frocks and talk about returns. He puts his huge hand around my wrist and pulls me across the dance floor and there's nothing for my legs to do but follow.

Nanny is dancing with Grandad and she gives me a wave over Grandad's shoulder when I pass and I wonder is she after drinking too much sherry. When we get to the middle of the dance floor my father stops and pulls up his sleeves. The band start singing ‘Twist and Shout'.

He's going to start on me in front of everyone. He catches my two hands and twirls me around. He pushes me out then pulls me back closer and spins me round. Does he want me to dance, or what? I don't know what to think. It looks like he does. I want him to mean it. We dance till the song is over and he never lets me fall and then the band starts again and we're still dancing. He's a good dancer. I know he won a trophy once in the Olympia Ballroom, dancing with my mother. I saw the picture but I can't remember when. The two of them were holding a tall trophy between them with a little dancing man and woman on the top. My parents were smiling, in love, happy. My father was handsome. Still would be if he shaved himself and cut his hair. He wore a white shirt and black tie. His hair was slicked back. Her hair was let down. My mother looked beautiful. It was a black and white photograph but I know her eyes were blue. I don't know what colour her dress was. It was nice. Square-cut collar and no sleeves. I hope it was blue too. That's the way I like to picture her that night.

A circle grows around us in the middle of the floor. Everyone is watching and I know now he's not making a fool of
me. He looks great in his white socks, not giving a shit about anyone. This is how to do the hucklebuck, Matilda. He wriggles like a snake and waddles like a duck smiling and clapping his hands pushing his long hair behind his ears while he spins and glides twisting around the dance floor clicking his fingers and three songs later he's still dancing with me showing me how to do the hokey-cokey and telling everyone I'm his daughter. I'm pure faintin', I'm floating over the dance floor when he tells me I'm some mover. I have rhythm. I'm just like my mother. The more he tells me the more I want to dance and make him proud of me because he's changed. He's better because he knows now he has the five of us and that's all he'll ever need. I know he's going to take us out of the convent and buy a house here. We'll have a dog and we'll all be happy and forget everything bad that happened. Our mother might come back. She might come soon.

Everyone is calling for my father to sing and when he heads for the stage Aunt Peg calls the five of us together. Aunt Peg wears a gold bracelet with gold charms dangling from her wrists, gold necklace and gold earrings in loops that jingle when she walks and there's a fur over her shoulders she says is real fox fur. I know she's not lying because the poor bastard's bushy tail is lying on one shoulder while his dead brown eyes gawk at me from the other and you have to wonder why the fuck Aunt Peg is wearing a thing like that with all the money she has.

Aunt Peg says how thrilled she is to finally meet us all. You're lovely children. Your Daddy is really proud of you. I've never seen him this happy. Look at him up there on stage playing the guitar and singing ‘Rock Around the Clock' better than Bill Haley himself. It's more like a concert than a wedding.

We turn to watch my father when he sits on a high stool with the microphone to his lips and the guitar on his lap, and my cheeks are on fire because everyone in the room knows
he's singing for me and I know I'll never forget this moment if I live till I'm forty. I know the words from when I was little and I remember the song is about a man who would rather die than go to prison. I could never be as brave as that.

Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong

Under the shade of a coolibah-tree

And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled

‘Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?

Waltzing Matilda,

Waltzing Matilda,

Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?'

And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled

‘Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?'

Now, says Aunt Peg over the music, I'll be going back to England on Monday with Uncle James but we'll be down to see you on Sunday morning. You can spend the day with us.

There's a tap on my shoulder. Uncle Philip wobbling with the drink. The pink shirt open halfway down his chest and the top hat crooked on his head. Daddy is finished singing and he's making his way back to our table.

What about a dance?

I don't want to dance.

That's a nice way to treat your uncle.

He says it loud so my Daddy can hear him and give out to me for not dancing. Uncle Philip knows nobody will believe me if I say why I won't dance. I'll be called a troublemaker and I'll be sent away for ever. But this time it's different. I don't have to dance with Uncle Philip and I don't have to talk to him. My Daddy is here, he's changed, he's proud of me. He's coming home and we're all going to be happy and Uncle Philip can't ever bother me again.