1
In the darkness, in the world of nightmares, she sang a little song. In her small room, behind the drawn curtains, her voice was tiny, frightened, murmuring in her sleep:
Oh dear mother what a fool I’ve been …
Three young fellows … came courting me …
Two were blind … the other couldn’t see …
Oh dear mother what a fool I’ve been …
Tuneless, timeless, endlessly repeated through the night, soon the nightmare grew worse and she tossed below the bedclothes, and called out for her mother, louder and louder. Mother! Mother! until she sat up, gasping for breath and screaming.
‘Hush, child. I’m here. I’m beside you. Quiet now. Go back to sleep.’
‘I’m frightened, I’m frightened. I had a terrible dream …’