Read Online Even on Days when it Rains by Julia O'Donnell - Free Book Online Page B

same spot working with the fish at night is hardship I’ll never forget. In particular, the cold I experienced was almost beyond human endurance. The only source of heat was a wee lantern with hot coals in it. Every now and then we’d take turns going to the lantern to warm our hands. But that only made the work harder because once you put your hands into the cold fish again it was torture. At the end of a hard day you’d only be fit for bed. At night we slept in basic wooden huts.
    As the weeks wore their way into months, I settled into this tough routine. It’s amazing how the human mind and body can adapt and cope with the most difficult of circumstances. But the long-term effects of this work could be seen in some of the older people who suffered from arthritis in their hands caused by working in wet conditions. There were people with chest problems and others affected by sclerosis of the spine from bending into barrels and over fish troughs for long periods.
    Owey was never far from my mind while I was working in Lerwick. Every week without fail I would write a letter home to my mother and father, to reassure them that I was safe, healthy and doing just fine. I would never complain about my terrible life. It would have been unfair to trouble my parents, as I’m sure it was a constant worry for them having their children working abroad. They missed us just as much as we pined for them.
    James and Edward never wrote a line home, of course. They were men, and it wasn’t expected of them. I would always mention them in my letters, saying how they were safe and doing fine at their work. The three of us got on well at work. It was James who took care of the money. Whatever Edward and myself earned we passed on to James. He in turn would post the money home to our mother and father. Although the two boys were older, I adopted the role of mother when we were away. That included washing their stinking work clothes. It was what women did.
    After five long months in those conditions, our stint there was over, and, with a light heart, I packed my few bits and pieces, stuffed my final earnings into a sock and headed off to the boat with Edward and James for the journey back home to Owey.
    As I stepped out of the currach on the island, I crossed myself in thanksgiving for a safe passage; then my legs took off at a gallop on the short route to our home. It was a thrill to walk through the doorway of our little cottage and see the faces of my mother and father light up with joy at my safe return. In those days families didn’t hug and kiss like they do in these modern times, but you knew by their body language that there was great love for you and that they were delighted to have you back in the house.
    Sometime later on Owey, Daddy was struck down by a severe bout of flu and had to take to his bed. He was shivering and sweating. He was a very sick man. My poor mother tended to him with hot drinks and cool clothes, and I could see that she was terribly worried about him. At this time Maggie and the three boys had gone away again to find work, so it was left to me to do all the chores around the farm. It was time to harvest the potatoes, and I dug out and filled 13 barrels with them. There were four big sacks of potatoes in every barrel. I took them home on a donkey and put them into a pit and covered them to protect them from the winter frost. And I was the first person on the island to have the potatoes harvested. It was a busy time for me. There was turf to be brought in and water to be fetched from the wells. And I milked the cow twice every day. My poor father felt terribly helpless, but there was nothing he could do. He’d been raving and sweating and delirious for several days while going through the worst of his illness. And it was a relief to us all when he began to show signs of improvement. It took a couple of weeks for my daddy to get back on his feet again. When he came to inspect my work, he