I would add this bit of advice - adverbs, use them wisely, or better still not at all.
I leaned nonchalantly against our wooden gate
I'm no wiser how you were leaning - and since you tell us shortly afterwards that you were 'acting the big man' we don't need the adverb.
There's also still some superfluous detail that could be tightened up. I thought I'd do a 510 since I've got a spare hour or two:
South Shields, 1967. In the back lane, I leaned nonchalantly against our wooden back gate . I was, acting the big man and swearing to in front of the bloke next door . (,) who'd I was swearing at him even though he'd already complained a couple of times to Mam about my bucket-mouth. I was repeating all the fancy? words I'd heard recently, I thought I was feeling so big and clever (,) while the other kids looked on with their mouths open. (,) waiting They were keen to see what happened next. Altercations in those days before telly, always attracted a small crowd. [Not so keen on this observation - takes us out of the story.]
I should have got a clue realised when their eyes widened in shock (,) with the knowledge that someone other than themselves was going to get his arse smacked good and proper. But I was too busy showing off until Asomeone's hand grasped my collar. -pulling a few hairs out at the back of my neck in the process- [Not keen on this either - it diminishes the shock of what follows] ThenI was yanked off my feet, and flew back got hauled ? through the gate.
Mam had seen through all my lies, she knew I'd swear again, because I'd repeatedly promised her that I'd never sworn at anyone!
[This needs rearranging because you've not told us you promised not to swear yet so there are no lies for her to see through.]
I'd promised to Mam on numerous occasions that I'd never sworn at anyone, but she had seen through my lies. She knew, intuitively the way that all mothers did, that I lied a lot, so she'd stood hidden on the other side of the gate (!) and heard my performance.
She dragged me backwards [Try to keep the choreography simple so it's easier to picture.] across the yard, past the coal-house and to the back steps. (,)All the time I was blubbering and pleadeding that I'd be good and live a chaste, decent law-abiding [Is this your eight-year-old memory or an older person's - it seems over the top.] virtuous? life, from then on. I'd have sworn to anything if it would have prevented what I knew was about to happen [clunky] to avoid what I knew was coming next. But soon my heels were thumping on the rickety stairs as the fading light from the back door illuminated . All I saw were the cobwebs in the roof amid the dirt and stains. (,) and the fast retreating light from the back door down below. I lost a plimsoll on the way when it snagged on a crack in the stair riser . She but that didn't slow Mam down as she hauled me like a sack of spuds into the scruffy shed-like scullery.
She'd warned me time after time that if she ever caught me swearing (,) she'd wash my mouth out with Carbolic Soap. If everyday soap could be categorized as (,) nice and sweet, soft and gentle, perfumed and refreshing, then Carbolic was the total opposite. Blocky, rough, smelling of disinfectant, lather-less, industrial cleaner, and generally horrible. Carbolic was the skinhead of soaps, and I was about to have a meal of it. (!)
I could tell mam had lost her rag meant business because she took the dirty plates out of the sink and smashed them to the floor in temper. ( ,) o Oh Gawd, I was in trouble. (,) I just stood looking at her, I hoped hoping that if I looked dejected enough she'd relent and take pity on me [Means the same as relent - don't need both] but she didn't. She yanked me by the collar and the seat of my pants. When she had her mad on she could be a strong bugger! Quite scary in fact. Mam [More distracting observations - doesn't work for me I'm sorry.] Mam Then she slammed me onto the damp, smelly drainer (,) like a butcher slapping a hunk of beef onto a chopping-block. The dampness seeped into my clothes (,) as my head drooped into the big china sink. Mam mustn't have liked the position I was in because she couldn't get a strong enough hold on me, so she dragged me further up the drainer, scattering the greasy pans and plates that were by the sink waiting to be washed. Now until I was directly under the brass tap.
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I fought her even harder.On the draining board, I struggled and wriggled,trying to shake free of Mam's strong, polished-finger-nailed hand that held me by the throat. I could see the upside-down view of the muck and grease of the sinklip. [Sorry - I still think this 'upside-down view' is unnecessary and confuses the picture as you've already told us you're facing the spout of the tap.]
But Mam still managed to keep me positioned and I fought her back despite my struggles to keep my head away from the brass tap.
Pans and plates scattered , clattering and clattered everywhere by my wildly thrashing as my legs and feet thrashed wildly. , she fought to keep me positioned and I fought her back to keep my head away from the tap. [Getting repetitive]
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She turned the tap on. (,) there There was a clunk as the air was released and I heard the water approaching surging ? up the pipe. A Then a single drop of water gathered on the end of the tap (,) and I thought I'd been saved. ( ,) sSometimes the water didn't flow on certain days, due to low pressure and I thought to myself that this was one of them those times. But alas for me, not that day. (!)
The treacherous water gushed out of the tap, it soaked soaking my head and neck perhaps add something here to show how it felt at that exact moment. I now spluttered and spat as I continued to cry and begged Mam to let me go. But once Mam made up her mind to do something she did it. Oh Gawd, did she do it? (.)
While all this was going on, All the while Mam was shouting at me at the top of her voice, "I'll teach you to f***ing swear you little bas***d! You won't f***ing swear again! Will you, (?) you f***ing little shite? (!("
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I heard snippets of distant shouts as they drifted encouragement ? drifting up the stairs. (,)
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"Go on Mim, give the little bugger what for!" or "Teach the little bugger a lesson he wont forget!" I'd sworn at loads of people so they were probably the ones who shouted.
[Why?? tell?? us?? this??]
I jammed snapped my mouth shut closed with a snap. I knew that my mouth had to be open for the Carbolic to be got in. she couldn't slip the Carbolic between my lips if they were closed tight ?
"Open your mouth, and this'll go easier on you!" shouted Mam.
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At that point, three big blokes struggling, [Is that the best you could find?] Why not But three pit ponies wouldn't have got me to open my mouth.
"Open your mouth" she repeated quieter more quietly.
I remember defiantly staring at her , if it could be called a stare? I had to keep blinking to keep the splashes of water out of my eyes. My mouth was still wedged shut, but at the same time I tried to dodge the water that still gushed out of the tap and God, it was cold!
[This is still a bit of a muddle - you'd do better to tell us how cold the tap water was earlier in the scene (without the exclamation mark) - and the rest adds nothing new.]
Then she leaned down , got right in my face, until we were practically nose to nose and repeated in a really strange quiet-like voice creepy little whisper ?, "Brian, open your mouth." " (,) she smiled. It was She smiled one of those rictus-smiles where you I knew she was also gritting her teeth. I was really scared. then (!)
Anyone who's experienced a stern-loving Mother like this will know exactly what I'm talking about. [Pointless observation - get on with the story!!!!!!!!!]
This was the killer-smile. that brooked no No more arguments, no resistance, no bullshit. This kind of calm, almost tender ? command had to be obeyed, or woe betide anyone. I knew then it was no good.[Bit weak - it was time to surrender ?]
I stammered a quick "Please Mam," but instantly she jammed the carbolic soap into me gob. (!) Oh she could be so quick. (!) I gagged. (,) I thought on that day [Bit weak again - knew for sure ?] I was going to die. She was began rubbing and drubbing like wash day on a Monday, while singing some obscure little song. (,) h Her eyes, normally blue and pretty, were just slits in her face. [Where else would they be?]
Meanwhile I begged and sobbed and got myself worked up into a lather, I felt really sorry for myself then [Doesn't really add anything new]. The bar is was wedged into between my teeth , she really put some 'elbow grease' into it. The taste was horrible, like sucking on a toilet urinal cake, [Getting muddled again.] and the toilet taste made me want to gag ? and trying as I tried like frig not to swallow. She was thorough and resolute, determined she was going to teach me a lesson, even if it meant someone reporting her to the National Assistance.
Finally it was over. She stood me on my feet. I, of course, being the devious little git that I am, wobbled a bit, and looked as if I was about to faint. Mam wrapped me in her arms, acting all contrite, guilt could be a good commodity when you were eight and knew how to wield it. As she wrapped me in her arms cooing to me and telling herself what a horrible person she was for inflicting this on her poor child I made a cardinal error. I smiled, thinking to myself of how I could turn this to my advantage?
She saw this and instantly reverted to Were-Mam, my arse was back on that draining board in a flash. She had the Carbolic soap in her hand raised and ready to "wash" me again. I looked on with what I can only now describe as a futile-acceptance of something uncontrollable. She saw this, and slowly dropped the bar onto the floor, looked at me with a little discomfort and possibly shame on her face and told me to get off the drainer.[/I]
I have to say this ^^ underlined bit left me cold - you've reached the climax of the tale yet you throw in another trick and almost blow it in my opinion. By all means play on the deviousness of the eight-year-old git and the' were-mother', but I'm not keen on a repeat performance of what's already happened.
I think it would work just as well if she gave you a cuddle and you felt you'd scored a point by looking so sweet and innocent before she grabs you by the throat and asks"Will you ever swear again?"
I hung my head tiredly [Needs a stronger image.] and swore on the Bible that I wouldn't. I was knackered from all the struggling. She stood in front of me with her hands on her hips, her foot tapped constantly tapping its in a temper-fuelled rhythm. , I knew I could still be in trouble at this sign. She sighed and said under her breath (,) as she shook her head slowly from side to side. (,) "Eee, our Brian, what am I going to do with you?"
I just hoped it wasn't anymore of what had took place.She then sent me to my room without having tea.
[Bit of an anticlimax - is it necessary to add any of this detail at the end?]
Looking back today,I wonder if she was surprised or amused to come into the punishment room later and found me snoring?
Same as before - you're butting in on the story.]
I'd like to say at the end here I wish I could admit that I learned my lesson that day. But I'd be lying, because I still swore. (,) I just never put myself in the position of letting mam hear me.
A lot of comments ^^ which you can take with as much salt as you wish. At least the exclamation marks are slowly disappearing. Now you need to sort out the dreaded comma.
H3K
