The Boy Who Lived With Ghosts: A Memoir (9 page)

It’s not very nice to say those things about my dad. My dad is not a sinner because a sinner is a very bad person who will go to live with the Devil.
I don’t want my dad to live with the Devil. He might be lost and that’s why he has been gone so long.

So it’s good that Mum has now gone looking for him. I think she wants to find him before the policeman does but Nana said it’s a waste of time and we’ll never see him again. But she is wrong because he said he would never leave me. And if he has to run away from that policeman, he will come back for me and we will go far away to a place where no one can find us.

And even though she said it was a waste of time, Nana has gone looking for Dad too.

I don’t know why it’s so hard to find my dad because he always goes to the Fitzroy to see a man about a dog. But he might be hiding from those men and if I was hiding I would hide in one of the houses on the bomb site. You could also hide in a tree but there aren’t any trees around here. I would not hide in the old knackers yard because there’s a dead horse in there and I would not want to wake up in the middle of the night with a dead horse.

But it doesn’t matter about hiding because I should not have been born. If I had not been born then my dad would still be here. That’s what Margueretta says. She says it over and over again. And she says she wishes I was dead and that’s why I have to be locked in the cellar with the Devil until the grown-ups come home. She says that thing in the corner is actually the Devil.

The Devil isn’t dead. He’s alive and he wants to live inside all of us when we grow up and it’s up to us if we listen to him and become sinners. I don’t listen to the Devil because I love Jesus. But the Devil is always there in everything we see and everything we do because the Devil can never die.

There are seven steps down into the cellar. It’s very cold down here. I’m shivering and hungry but I don’t care about being hungry. You also shake when you are frightened. So I’m shivering and shaking at the same time but I don’t know which is which.

Jesus died but if you pray to him, you can feel the hand of Jesus no matter where you are. They put a crown of thorns on his head and it cut into his skin and made it bleed and they spat at him. And when he died they took
him down from the cross and put him in a cave. But he came back to life and rolled away the stone in front of the cave. And after three days he went to Heaven to live with God for all Eternity so even though he is dead he is still alive and I think he is the only person who can be dead and alive at the same time.

If I die, I want to live with Jesus. Most of all I want to hold his hand because it is very warm and he will look down and smile at me and keep me by his side and that will make me feel very good.

Yes, I want to live with Jesus if I die down here in the cellar.

21

I
want to swing on a star. And carry moonbeams home in a jar. You can be better off than you are or would you rather be a pig? I don’t want to be a pig because a pig is an animal with dirt on his face and his shoes are a terrible disgrace. But I am a pig because I’ve got mud on my face and my toes are sticking out of my shoes.

My daddy sings that song. I want to swing on a star. He taught me the words and he says we can carry moonbeams home in a jar together. They will make me think of angels.

If Dad was here, he would take her knickers down and spank her and I could watch. He would spank her for twisting my hair around in her fist until I screamed and for spitting in my face and locking me in the cellar.

She only let me out because Mum and Nana came back. And she says I’m a pig. She says oink, oink like a pig, little boy. But I won’t oink, oink like a pig. So she slapped my face.

But Dad wasn’t with Mum and Nana when they came back so it’s best if I hide under the kitchen table for now with Emily. The grown-ups are angry and crying, and I don’t want to be with them. They know I’m here so I’m not really hiding but it feels like I’m hiding. I hope Dad will be here soon. If Dad was here, we would swing on a star. Dad will swing me around on a star, and he will sing for me. We will carry moonbeams home in a jar. And I won’t be a pig.

“Och, I couldnee find him anywhere!” Nana said.

“The police aren’t the only ones who want to find him. Mick at The Connaught wants to find him. He’s an angry man,” said Mum.

“The Landlord at The Connaught? What’s he got to do wi’ it?”

“That liar of a husband of mine convinced Mick that the way to bring in the crowds was to get an organ. He said he would play it for a share in the business, all the beer he could drink, and an occasional pork pie!”

“That sounds like him. He’s always thirsty, but he’s nae much of an eater.”

“So, Mick cashed in his entire Navy pension and bought a Hammond M-3 organ.”

“A Hammond M-3 organ?”

“Yes, like in the picture houses. It’s blooming huge. It’s in the saloon bar, blocking the ladies toilet.”

“What will they do?”

“They’re using the gents toilet. But it can’t last, Mum.”

“I wouldn’t think so. The gents toilet is outside.”

“Be Serious! And there’s a cabinet of sheet music,” Mum continued.

“Sheet music?”

“Yes, Cilla Black. And the Bachelors. And all sorts of pub favorites.”

“The Bachelors?”

“Yes.”

“Which one?”

“‘Diane, I’m in Heaven, When I See You Smile.’”

“I like that one. And pub favorites?”

“Yes. ‘My Old Man’s a Dustman.’”

“You could sing along to that song…”

“That’s not the point, Mother! Mick was in the Merchant Navy for thirty years. He survived two attacks by German U-boats in the war you know. He nearly drowned. He was never the same after that.”

“Which Cilla Black song?” Nana asked.

“‘Anyone Who Had a Heart,’ I think.”

“She’s a good singer for such a young girl.”

“Mick says he will have to be calling
last orders
until his
last breath
,” said Mum, “and that’s not all. Two men in the pub said they lent him money and they’re looking for him.”

“Och, no!”

“Aye. And they said they would not give up. They’re not nice men.”

“This is bad, lassie.”

“There’s more.”

“More? What more could there be?” Nana asked.

“This letter came today. It’s from the mortgage company.”

“Mortgage company? What mortgage? He bought this hoose with the money his father left him. That poor man worked hard all his life building his grocery shop just to give it to that waster.”

“We don’t own this house.”

“It’s nae much of a hoose to own.”

“Yes, well even if it isn’t much of a house, we don’t own it. He mortgaged it and never paid a penny back.”

“What does that mean, hen?”

“I don’t know, Mum. I don’t know. But it’s a lot of money.”

“And where’s that money?”

“Same place. Pissed away. Into the piss pot with all the rest.”

“Och. No wonder it was always needing emptying!”

And Mum started crying and Nana sent us to bed with a slice of bread pudding but I didn’t eat mine.

Mum’s not here in the bedroom so I can say whatever I like. But God is listening. God is always listening. But I’m not going to ask him to bless Margueretta.

God bless Mummy. God bless Nana. God bless Emily. And God bless my daddy, and please find him and ask him to come back.

Amen.

22

I
don’t like that man who’s making my mum cry. He’s in a suit, sitting at our kitchen table. I thought he was a nice man when he smiled at me, when Mum let him in. He rubbed my hair with his hand the way grown-ups always do. But he’s not a nice man. He’s making my mum cry. I wish my dad was here.

“I don’t enjoy this, Mrs. Mitchell. But the fact is, you do not own this house. It is owned by the Building Society, and they want it back. We can let you stay for another month, but that is it.”

“A month? Then what?”

“Have you talked to the Welfare people?”

“I’ve had no choice. We would starve on the money I get working at the Metal Box Factory.”

“Well, let’s not have the amateur dramatics. No one is going to let you starve. We live in a Welfare State you know.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Look. You have three children. The authorities have to provide a roof over your heads.”

“Oh yes, if I go with my begging bowl, and they give me a handout.”

“Why would you want to stay here? It’s a bloody slum for God’s sake!”

“We’re waiting for my dad,” I shouted.

“Where is your father?”

“He’s gone to see a man about a dog,” I replied.

“Mrs. Mitchell, these children look like they need a square meal. They look very pale. And thin. You have to face the facts. I have to go now. You have a month. That’s more than generous.”

“Och, don’t do us any favors!” Nana added.

“Leave it, Mother. He can find his own way out.”

“Good-bye, Mrs. Mitchell. I have to leave now. Good-bye.”

“I’ve a good mind to thump him. Heartless beggar,” said Nana.

“That would just make things worse, Mum.”

“Aye. But I could have flattened him. Blithering piece of English shite! Useless excuse for a man!”

“What’s that?” Mum asked, looking down at a suitcase by Nana’s side.

“Ma suitcase,” Nana replied.

“Oh, God. Is it today?”

“I told you, hen.”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

“Have you told the wee ones?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“What is it, Mum?” Emily asked.

“Come here, you twins. And Margueretta, come here.”

“What is it?”

“It’s Nana. Nana has to go home.”

“Home?”

“Her real home is in London. She stayed here to help me with you and to nurse Pop. But that’s all changed now, and Pop has gone to his Maker. We have to move to another place. So Nana needs to go back home.”

“When?”

“Today. She’s leaving today. I forgot to tell you. She has to leave today.”

23

I
want to be a mudlark. They live in the mud in the harbor under the train station, and they never have to wash. I would dive for a penny in the mud and find it, and I would make lots of money and save it to give to my dad and sometimes someone would throw me a shilling and one day we would be rich.

But Mum says those mudlarks are just common beggars. Nana shouldn’t encourage them by throwing them pennies. Nana says they’re just wee boys playing in the mud that’s left when the tide goes out. I don’t care what Mum says about them being beggars. I would live down there under the pier until I was rich.

The Queen is rich. The Queen only has to ring a bell and her servants come and she can ask for a cheese sandwich or a roast chicken or even lemonade when all she really wanted was a glass of water. And if the Queen asked for water, they would still bring her lemonade. Toast with butter is the best. If I was the King, I would eat toast with butter all the time. But never with butter and jam together.

Nana threw a penny to the mudlarks when we said goodbye at the train station. And she said that Scottish soldiers shouldn’t cry, and she gave me her lucky silver thrupence and the mudlarks screamed for more money.

And I screamed for my Nana. And she screamed for me.

“Och! Give me a hug! Hold on to your nana. Hold on. Hold on, for the love of God, wee laddie! My wee Scottish soldier!”

And I held on.

But she had to get on the train and trains don’t go choo-choo because that’s just a sound that Pop made because he thought he was a train. Trains screech and squeal and screech and squeal. And a Scottish soldier must be brave and hold his sister’s hand and it’s no shame to cry in front of all those people on the platform beside the train when your nana is leaving.

“Och, dear boy. Dear, wee boy. Don’t cry. Your nana loves you. Oh, Johnny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are playing. I’ll come back when summer’s in the meadow…oh Johnny Boy, my Johnny Boy. Och, how I love you so.”

When people go away, you will still see them again, one day. Going away is not the same as dying because the only way to see your nana if she dies is when you die and go to Heaven to be with her again and then you can be with her forever and ever and you will never be alone. She will hold your hand as you walk down the street, singing together. And when you get home she will cuddle you on her lap by the fire and she will sing you one of her songs and whisper in your ear that she loves you and she will always love you.

She will always love you.

And you will be a man, one day, and always love her.

You will always, always love her.

24

I
cannot be the milk monitor anymore. It shouldn’t come as a surprise because you have to drink milk if you want to be the milk monitor and I can’t drink milk now after I was sick all over Geoffrey Wilson who was sitting in front of me and was not expecting to be covered in sick. He doesn’t like it, but we now call him Sicky Back. It was Miss Jones who made me drink sour milk and I don’t know why she made me drink it and now I am completely refusing to drink milk and I will get rickets. That means my legs will be bandy and I will have stunted growth and that’s my own problem. The only thing that could be worse is if I start smoking because then I will grow up to be a midget.

None of this matters because I am never going back to that school. Miss Jones told the class that I am going with Emily to a happy place where there are trees and grass. And Gloria McIntosh asked if there are flying fish and coconuts growing on trees and Miss Jones said not to be so silly because it is only a council estate up the road.

Mum says we will have an indoor toilet but we should not expect to have anything fancy like toilet paper. Apparently, the
Daily Mirror
has been perfectly good enough for generations and we are not changing now. But I am very unhappy that we will have our very own bath as this means that I will be having a bath every Sunday because we will also have hot and cold running water. Mum said that I will be having a bath every single week, even if my feet are not black. She is making no sense at all these days.