I’ve started to write a story about a girl call Lizzy. It’s going to be based on childhood memories and stories and I’m just going to keep writing it and see where it goes…
Lizzy Redmond remembered everything. There’s hardly anything of her childhood that she had forgotten. Any gaps in the story, she filled them in with all sorts of information gleaned throughout her life. It had to be true, she’d heard it somewhere and sure what of it if the timing is wrong. It happened.
Lizzy lived most of her life in a dream world. She hated being on her own, so, she was never on her own. There was always someone to talk to. Walking to the shops, walking to school, sitting in her room – she had company.
The youngest of 8 children Lizzy loved nothing better than when all the family were at home. Her brothers that lived at home she could take her leave. But her eldest brother and her sisters who were married, and all their kids… she loved when they were at home. It did mean she had to mind the kids a lot but that was ok. When everyone left and it was just her and the brothers and mam and dad, it wasn’t so much fun.
“Lizzy, will you go over to Granny’s, she wants something in the shops.” These were words she hated to hear. And in fairness to her, her ma hated to say them. Sending poor Lizzy over to Granny’s wasn’t fun for anyone. This granny was Lizzy’s Da’s ma and she was a hard chaw. But if Granny called then someone had to go.
It was only across the road, a 2 minute walk from Lizzy’s but she could make it a 20 minute walk by dragging her feet, stopping every so often and sometimes playing her favourite ‘slow walk to Granny’s’ game which was – walking past 3 houses, then turning around and skipping back past 2.
Eventually she there, fiddling with the dodgy gate she got it open. Before she took another step she could hear her Granny’s voice. “Shut that gate after you!” Lizzy wrestled with the handle of the gate, which was always harder to close that it was to open and 5 minutes later was finally at the back door.
“Granny, it’s Lizzy.”
“I know it is, will you come in! I sent for you 2 hours ago! What took you so long? I need you to go to the butchers for me. I want 2 jigot chops. Tell him they better be good ones. Fresh ones! And I want a half pound of sausages, a half ring of white pudding and a small piece of black And tell him that liver last week was a tough as me boots and I don’t want liver this week unless it’s tender!”
Lizzy already knew what she’d be saying to the butcher. She said the same every week. Well truth be told, Granny told her the same every week but Lizzy would just hand the butcher the note and kick the bottom of the fridge while she looked through the glass at all the meat. She never knew why Granny bothered to tell her what she wanted when she always gave her the note, including the bit about liver, underlined about 10 times.
More fumbling with the gate, she walked to the butchers, handed in the note, got the meat and made her way back. She listened to the familiar lecture about the state of her dress, the length of her hair, and the dirt of her socks. Once Granny had admonished her about a few other things like the Angelus and clean fingernails, Lizzy was free to go and miraculously made it home in 3 minutes.