Sunday, 13 March 2016

Oh, sister 4. (Memoirs of Sally McGhee i)

My name is Sally McGhee
Born to be footloose and fancy-free
A girl wi’ a chequered past
That all began in bleak Belfast
Back when we lived in poverty
My mum
My dad
My brother and me
But life wasn’t altogether misery
In our tight knit wee community
Ye could say that there was camaraderie
People with heart
With each and every one playin’ a part
At seventeen I made my start
In the world of sex
And learned very quickly what a man expects
How to please
I took to it with ease
And no matter if I was down on my knees
Or givin’ men a rub when they came out of the pub
I didn’t see it as bad
There was money to be had
In no time at all I’d acquired a tidy sum
But it was soon discovered by my inquisitive mum
All I could do was look at her with dread
When she found it under the mattress whilst makin’ my bed
There was no foolin’ my mum
She knew instinctively from where it had come
And for that I was instantly slapped in the face
And told that I was a filthy disgrace
I expected worse from my dad
But he just shook his head and looked very sad
I tried to say sorry but he refused to speak
Reluctantly I left home at the end of the week
For a while I wore a frown
Until the day I reached London town
I knew that survivin’ there meant havin’ to be gritty
As failure would receive nobody’s pity
A good assumption
But given time and a wee bit o’ gumption
I knew somehow I would make it there
And that life in Belfast wouldn’t compare
My intuition was right
My life would change that very first night
As I stood under a dim streetlight
A few of the other girls got a bit uptight
Shoutin’ to me that it was their territory
And permission to work there was mandatory
I was determined to stay
Who were they to push me away?
I changed my mind when they began to throw stones
And that’s when I bumped into Nerys Jones
What a sight
Eighteen stone and six feet in height
From Swansea
She could tell you some funny tales
She didn’t work on the street
Men paid her to be her seat

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