Terence ONeill - All My Brothers Secrets: a Powerful True Story of Love, Loss and Brutality

O nce, when I was four years old, I climbed up onto the car deck of the big Transporter Bridge in Newport. It was fun up there because when all the cars had driven on, the deck started to move, carrying them over to the other side of the river. I had my feet dangling over the side, watching the boats down below, and I thought I was the bees knees.

Suddenly a man in a uniform rushed up and grabbed me by the arm. He pulled me to my feet, hurting my shoulder, and shouted What do you think youre doing?

I was just looking, I told him.

He said that I could have fallen and been killed and he wanted to know where my mam and dad lived, so I told him they lived on Bolt Street. My big brother Dennis had made me remember the address in case I ever got lost.

The man said that my mam and dad would be going crazy with worrying about me, but I didnt think they would. I usually went out for the whole day because Mam didnt like me to get under her feet. She was always fussing over my little brother Freddie, who was only two, and she let me do whatever I wanted.

The man with the uniform made me stand right beside him until the deck crossed back over the river again, then he told me to run straight home as fast as I could. Your mam will be making your tea soon, he said to encourage me.

I was pretty hungry but I knew there wouldnt be any food back at the house. There hadnt been any that morning, at any rate. I wandered up through the dock area and picked up some stones to throw in the water, but another man came running over and told me off.

What are you doing? You might fall in, he shouted.

Everyone was telling me what to do all of a sudden.

He asked my name and I told him it was Terry.

Fancy a biscuit, Terry? he asked, and led me to a shed over in the corner of the dockyard where he gave me two whole Rich Tea biscuits, which werent even broken. They tasted fantastic.

While I was eating them, he asked me if I came down that way often. He said he was usually there and I should look out for him so we could be friends. I thought to myself that he was far too old to be my friend but I didnt say anything because he had been nice to give me the biscuits.

I asked him the time and when he told me it was after three oclock, I said I had to go. I always went up the road to meet Dennis coming out of school.

Come back again another time, the man said, and I thought to myself that I definitely would because it wasnt often someone gave you biscuits just like that.

I walked up to Bolt Street and sat on the pavement just down the road from the school, waiting for Dennis to come along. Loads of kids came out in a big crowd when the bell rang but I could always spot Dennis in the midst of them because he did a funny walk, with one foot in the gutter and one foot on the pavement, making him look as if he was limping. Every day he did that.

Whats up, Terry? he asked when he got up close to me, and he ruffled up my hair.

I went up on the Transporter Bridge and a man gave me two biscuits, I told him straight away, then I felt guilty because really I should have kept one for Dennis. Its just that I was so hungry, I had eaten them both myself.

What man? Dennis asked.

Hes got a hut down at the docks.

I know who you mean. Dennis frowned. Hes a bit odd, that one. Best not go to his hut without me there, OK?

OK, I shrugged. If Dennis said so, then I wouldnt.

Want to go to the park now? he asked, and I said yes and trotted off behind him, happy just to be in his company.

I missed Dennis now he was at school. Before that it had just been him and me going out on adventures together. Wed play hopscotch on the railway tracks, or walk along the top of the high stone wall down by the docks, or play hide and seek in the park, where they had a pavilion and a bandstand and rockeries and lots of good places to hide.

Dennis and I had always played together. My other brothers and sisters were too old, apart from Freddie, and he was too young. When I was four, Cyril was eighteen, Betty was sixteen, Charles was twelve, Tom was ten, Rose was eight and Dennis was six. The big ones thought I was a nuisance and were mean to me. They used to hang me upside down over the banisters to try and calm me down, but as soon as they set me on my feet again Id yell at them that they were effing bastards and sprint off down the stairs before they could catch me. I liked saying effing and bloody and bastard, like my big brothers and my dad always did, but it used to make the girls cross with me.

In those days the coalman delivered coal to the houses by horse and cart and everyone would threaten that if I didnt behave myself, the coalman would take me away in his cart. He was a big, scary, soot-faced man with a loud voice so Id cower in the background when he came to the door, just in case.

Some mams would cuddle their little boys Id seen them in our road but our mam never did anything but shout at me, so I usually kept out of her way. Besides, she had a funny eye that gave me the creeps. Shed be looking at you with one eye but the other one would be off staring over your shoulder, which wasnt very nice to see.

I hardly ever saw my dad because he was never home. Mam said he was off working but Dennis whispered to me Yeah, if you count sitting in the pub lifting a pint of beer to your lips work, that is.