punch of such ferocity that it caused Molly to sink to her knees. She couldn’t prevent a cry escaping from her nor the tears spurting from her eyes. Her whole face throbbed and she knew that her nose was pouring blood. She had the acrid taste of it in her mouth.
Kevin had given a scream at the punch and thrown himself against Molly. He remembered her saying she would protect him against his grandmother and realised suddenly the woman was stronger than both of them and the only weapon they had was to stick together. And so, despite his intense fear, he glared up at Biddy and yelled, ‘Leave her alone you. Molly is right. You are nothing but a big bully.’
Biddy’s face was red and contorted with temper as she said with disdain. ‘And you are an insolent young pup who will get some of the same before he is much older.’
Molly put her arms around Kevin and said, ‘Don’t you dare lay a finger on him.’
‘And who is to stop me?’ Biddy asked. ‘You?’
‘I’m telling my granddad about you,’ Kevin cried.
‘Go ahead,’ Biddy said. ‘But remember that there will be no granddad in Ireland.’
And of course that was true. They would have no one to fight their battles for them there and both children were well aware of it.
So when Biddy said, ‘And now, if that little tantrum is over I suggest you get that shopping put away and cook some lunch, for my stomach thinks my throat is cut,’ Molly got to her feet, stanching the flow of blood from her nose with a handkerchief, because there was nothing else she could do.
They had scrambled eggs on toast because it was what Biddy wanted and Kevin looked at it with distaste. He had never liked his eggs scrambled and when he began to move them around his plate with his fork, Biddy snapped, ‘Eat it!’
Kevin was filled with trepidation as he mumbled that he didn’t like scrambled eggs.
‘Don’t mumble like that. Speak up!’
Kevin shot a look at his sister and she spoke for him, her voice sounding strange with her thick lips, ‘Kevin isn’t that keen on scrambled eggs.’
‘What is this, “not keen” about?’ Biddy snapped. ‘From what I have seen since I have been here, he is not keen on a lot of things, for he eats nothing. I’ll not stand such nonsense,’ she said, glaring at Kevin. ‘It’s good food. Eat it, or I will make you eat it.’
Kevin looked at his plate and just the look of the eggs made him feel sick. ‘I can’t.’
‘Oh, yes you can,’ Biddy said, leaping from her chair. She pinned Kevin’s arms down, holding his nose at one and the same time while she pushed a huge forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth when he opened it to breathe.
Kevin kicked and struggled and cried, and Molly was pulling at her grandmother and shouting at her to leave Kevin alone, but it made no difference and Kevin was forced to swallow the egg. The minute he did, this was followed by another forkful and then another.
Suddenly, Kevin felt the nausea rising in his throat but he couldn’t speak for another forkful of egg was in his mouth and he tried manfully to swallow. However, he couldn’t, and he began to cough and choke and splutter, and then suddenly vomited with ferocity over the table, the floor and his grandmother.
‘You bold wee boy,’ she shrieked and, scooping him up from his chair, she laid him across her knee.
Stan came in then and took in the scene at a glance. The hateful woman paddling Kevin’s bottom with her large hands and Molly trying to prevent her. It didn’t need a genius to work out what had happened to Molly’s face either. Stan felt unaccustomed rage build inside him as he yanked Kevin out of Biddy’s grasp.
‘You have no right!’ she said angrily. ‘The children are my responsibility and I was chastising the child.’
‘Like you chastised Molly?’ Stan said with scorn. ‘Look at the state of that poor girl’s face. Come here, Mol.’
Molly crossed to her granddad’s side and he put his arm around her shoulder. Glaring at Biddy he said, ‘There is to be no more of this chastising as you call it. Personally, I call it beating a child and that will not happen while they are under my roof. The children have already suffered enough and you are not to lay one hand on them.’
But Kevin, his arms around his grandfather’s neck, still shaking and giving gulping little sobs, knew that it would only be a brief respite and his bleak eyes met Molly’s and he knew that she was well aware of this too.
The next day, Kevin stuck like glue to his grandfather and the old man knowing of his fear never left him alone with Biddy and they kept out of the house as much as possible. He could do nothing about Molly for again she was kept hard at it. She told him she didn’t want to go out anyway because she would be embarrassed with her face the way it was. The marks of Biddy’s handiwork were clearly visible, though the woman seemed not a bit ashamed of what she had done. Molly, however, wanted as few people to catch sight of her as possible and so she had risen early and gone to the half-past seven Mass. It was never well attended, that Sunday was no exception, and she had kept her head bowed throughout most of the service. She fervently hoped that the marks would be gone by the morning because she wanted to return to school. She badly needed to get away from her grandmother.
Despite his grandfather never leaving him alone with Biddy on Sunday, Kevin was in an almost permanent state of anxiety. He had another horrific nightmare that night that raised the house. The next morning, Stan looked at his grandson’s thin and wan face and rheumy eyes, ‘Kevin, you stay home from school today. You look far from well and I would like the doctor to take a look at you.’
‘Kevin cannot stay at home today,’ Biddy said. ‘You forget that I am in charge now of the children and I will not tolerate laggards. There is nothing wrong with the child at all. He is seeking attention that is all, because you have utterly ruined him. As for the screaming and all last night, that was probably the reaction to something he ate.’ Molly knew that wasn’t it, because Kevin was eating practically nothing. In fact, she realised with a jolt, it had been some time since he had eaten anything properly. He had had no breakfast that morning either. She decided to tackle him about eating more when they were on their way to school and away from their grandmother hearing any of it.
‘How d’you feel, Kev?’ Molly said as they made their way to school later that morning. ‘Granddad’s right, you know. You don’t look at all well.’
‘I’m all right,’ Kevin said. ‘And I would be better if that horrible old woman would go back to Ireland. But she won’t and so I would rather go to school than stay at home. Anyroad, I like school.’
Molly knew he did. He was in the baby class, the Reception and had loved every minute of it since the day he had started. ‘You might feel better too if you ate something,’ she said. ‘You must try. Not because of what that old bat will say and do, but because you will be ill if you don’t.’
‘I can’t eat, Molly,’ Kevin said. ‘I do try, honest. It’s just like I feel sort of full all the time.’
Molly knew what her young brother was full of: misery and despair. She suffered
