The Keeper of Wickets

Kate

I was born on the top floor of a run down stone building in Scarborough, North Yorkshire. We live right on the waters edge and more often than not my siblings and I would walk down through the fields to the castle, where we'd play for hours. My father works down at the docks, loading huge ships and selling caught fish and my mother stayed at home looking after the six of us, now she stays at home to look after herself with a little help from Dad on the side. Our little apartment of our stone building is sort of dingy, and awfully small. It smelt of slow cooking stew on the stove and mother's musky perfume, it still does. The dining table was more than often, covered in school books or paper, or a toy truck that Henry was playing with. I had to share a room with all five of my siblings. My older sister's Maggie and Alice, my big brother George, little sister Sarah and little brother Henry. With a family as poor as ours I don't know why Mum and Dad has six children, they always say we make their dark days a lot brighter but sometimes I think we make their dark days pitch black.

Every single one of us had holes in our little black shoes, which George called "clodhoppers" because they were extremely heavy. Our uniforms were always pristine though, Mum always made sure we went to school in a sophisticated manner even if there were holes in our shoes. They don't like people knowing we were poor. That was the 90's and we felt like we were living in the 50's. The boy who used to live below us had a computer, which his parents bought him, Sarah longed for a computer. Some days you could hear the electronic noises it produced. We would sit and envy him until Mum told us to take Dad his lunch. His computer used a lot of electricity, so he often cut out the whole building. That's why I told myself I didn't want one.

I struggled a lot at school. I couldn't concentrate because I just couldn't learn. Home Economics, I starred in, history, I nailed but it was PE that I took by storm. I could run for miles and play just about any sport. I had expectations coming through school, my sisters are all very smart but I'm just not like them. Even in looks, I have dark brown hair like my dad and all my other siblings have blonde like my mum.

Our Saturdays were precious. We spent them wisely and doing something we loved. Sunday's were usually spent praying that God would send us more money just so we could live a little bit more comfortably, so on Saturday, we played cricket. Well, George and Henry did, the girls and I sat and watched. The girls usually wandered off and hung out at a friend's place or down at the docks, munching on fish and chips and laughing about a boy they knew from school. But me, I'd sit in awe, captivated by the way the ball moved and where the batsmen happened to hit it. I was slightly obsessed with how the game worked, and every week I asked my brothers if I could play with them but every week I was declined. George and Henry constantly reminded me that cricket was a boys game and girls playing was absurd, but I never gave up. I never let that special dream of one day playing a game of cricket slip from my grasp.

I used to sit on my bed and wonder if there were any other girls in the world chasing and hoping for their cricketing dreams to come true. There wasn't a girl from the east end who wanted to play cricket, why would you want the judgement? Why would you want the world on your shoulders?

The day I came home from school with a cricket bat, I was sat down at the table with my parents opposite me and questions lingering in their eyes.
'Kate, we have a few questions.' My mother began.
'Yep.' I looked up at the two of them. My twelve year old mind not really processing why they were doing what they were doing.
'You came home today with a cricket bat, where did you get it?' Dad asked.
'Mr Jones gave it to me.' I replied. That wasn't a lie, he handed it to me and said give it to the boys for me. It didn't quite make it to the group of boys on the bottom oval.
'Did he really? What were his intentions?' Mum questioned.
'I think he wanted me to give it to the boys.' I said twiddling my thumbs.
'Did the boys get their bat Kate?' Dad asked.
I shook my head.
My father sighed and hung his head, 'You're a persistent little thing aren't you.' He muttered.
'Kate you stole school property, you will be taking the bat back to school and you'll spent this weekend at the docks, you don't think sometimes Kate.' Mum got up and left the room.
I'd gotten off lightly, a weekend with Dad was also very enjoyable. I remember feeling devastated knowing that I had to take that GM Bat back to the stinky sport shed at school, where it didn't deserve to be.

'So, tell me Kate, we're not in the 1800's you don't need to pickpocket, why'd you steal the bat?' Dad asked, handing me a fish. I thought for a few moments, questioning myself.
'I don't know, I shouldn't have done it, sorry Dad.' I responded solemnly.
'I thought it was pretty brave, I can see the statement you're trying to make too.' He smiled.
'I'm making a statement?' I furrowed my eyebrows.
'You want to play cricket, don't you Kate?' Dad sat me down on a crate. His huge brown eyes capturing my line of vision. I nodded and he grinned. My dad could've played for England, but his parents refused to take him to trainings so he quit.
'I'm not going to put my kids through what my parents did. You can be absolutely anything sweet Kate, we don't have much but if I can gift you with cricket, then my dreams are fulfilled.'
Neither of us could wipe the smiles from our faces.