We played piggy in the middle way out in the back field behind the barn on the first Saturday. It’s safer not to be seen from the kitchen window. Mick was shouting, get the ball, get the ball, Bernie, the ball, over there, look, look, Bernie, look, her just laughing her big, gurgly laugh. She’ll never get the ball but she likes to watch it sailing over her head. We picked mulberries when she got tired, dropping them into old jam jars to have later. But Mick and me didn’t watch her properly and she ate a mountain of them straight off the bush. Her whole chin was purple. She had an accident and there was mess all down the backs of her legs.

Mick started crying before he could stop himself. I wish he’d stop beating me to it. We checked the barn for rags. Nothing. Mick rubbed at her with a fistful of straw that made it worse. We had to try and sneak her into the bathroom without Mammy seeing us. Bernie started to howl as soon as she saw the house. I wasn’t going to get a turn at crying at all today. We tried to shush her but it was no good. Mammy was waiting. Bernie bit her too-big tongue when Mammy was shouting at her.

–  Hopeless, good-for-nothing article! What are you?

She wasn’t going to answer but Mammy kept at it, she never gave up. She prodded her in the chest with every word. Poor auld Bernie started to moan and dribble and rock, any minute she might have a fit.

–  Well? Can you not even manage to get yourself to the toilet! Born idiot! Do you even know what a toilet is? IDIOT!

Leave her alone! Was it Mick or me said that? No matter, it was me that got the wallop! The tracks of her fingers lit up my face, hot and cold, and her wedding ring burst my lip. Mammy stripped her right in front of us even though we know it’s a sin to show someone your bottom or to look at anyone else’s bottom. She slapped Bernie all the harder when she tried to wriggle away. Whack, whack, whack.

After Bernie was washed down and dried and shoved into an old pair of trousers to make sure Eileen knew she had to be changed, we were told to all disappear, disappear clean out of Mammy’s sight until teatime! She was sick of the sight of us! And it was no one’s fault but mine that I had got myself another clout, No Siree Bob!