The House Children

by Heidi Daniele

  I’m hoping Ryan and Rachel don’t get sick. Granny is battling the flu herself now. Please put her in your prayers.

  We have good news from the States. Margaret, James, and Connor will be coming for a visit in the summer. It’ll be nice for you to see them during your holiday stay.

  Love,

  Mother

  “Love, Mother!” I said aloud. “How dare she?”

  A fury rose inside of me. All of a sudden Norah Hanley is okay being my mother! Would she say it aloud? Or only write it in a letter? Did she think a sweater was going to fix everything? I balled up the letter in my fist, wanting to toss it in the garbage. Realizing I was in Mother Bernard’s office, I threw it in the box with the sweater and slammed the lid on top. I wanted to leave the package right there on the desk, but I didn’t want to explain myself to Mother Bernard.

  I tossed and turned in bed that night, the box containing the letter and sweater shoved under my bed. No matter how hard I tried, I could not rid Norah Hanley from my mind. A piece of me wanted to be loved by her, to be held by her. Another piece of me wanted to hurt her, to punish her. I couldn’t understand how I could have such diametrical feelings toward one person.

  Several months passed, and in spite of the cold weather, I resisted the temptation to wear Norah’s sweater.

  On a Sunday afternoon, a week after Easter, Sister Constance came into the yard looking for me.

  “Peg, you have a visitor in Saint Luke’s Parlor.”

  Sister Constance didn’t say who it was, and I was afraid to ask. Norah was the only visitor I’d ever had and she was the last person I wanted to see.

  I followed Sister Constance into the building and down the hall. She stopped in front of the parlor, but didn’t go in. She stood there watching me. I could see Norah and her two children through the glass-paned door. If Sister Constance weren’t there, I would have turned and walked away.

  “Go on, don’t keep them waiting,” she said.

  I cursed her in my mind as I opened the door.

  Dressed in their Sunday clothes, Ryan and Rachel jumped up to greet me. Their excitement forced me to smile and I couldn’t help but hug them lovingly. I didn’t acknowledge Norah when she came over to me. The children ran over to the window, leaving the two of us alone.

  “The Reverend Mother said I can take ya inta town.”

  “I don’t want ta go inta town with you,” I snapped back at her. “Peg, I’ve travelled all this way with the children. There’s some things I want ta talk to ya about.”

  “What have ya got ta say? Hi Peg, I’m yer mam, but I can’t take ya home ta live with me!”

  Her face turned white and her eyes began to well with tears.

  “Ya can’t bear the shame of having me as a daughter, can ya?”

  Norah looked at me angrily, “Peg, that’s not fair!”

  I glared back at her, “Look at where I’m living! I’m like an orphan! That’s what’s not fair!”

  “I want ta be a part of yer life, Peg.”

  I was losing my patience with her. There was nothing she could say that would make this right.

  Ryan and Rachel started running around the room in circles and Norah yelled at them. It was so unlike her, and for a moment I felt the smallest bit of compassion for her. The two of us sat down, emotionally exhausted by the brief exchange.

  After a few moments she broke the silence.

  “I put a girl up overnight. Her name is Angela. She says she knows ya from here.”

  My curiosity got the better of me.

  “Angela O’Neill?”

  Norah nodded.

  “Why she’d go to you?”

  “She heard about me. I’ve helped others like her—in her situation and on the run from the Magdalene Laundry.”

  “Were you in there?”

  “No. But I spent a year in the Tuam Home, so I know what it’s like.”

  I was still angry at Norah, but I wanted to know about Angela.

  “What about Angela’s baby?”

  “Died at birth, as many of em do.”

  I saw a great sadness come over Norah’s face. It seemed like a long time before either of us spoke again. It was clear Norah had been a victim of the system, as much as I was. Still, I couldn’t find forgiveness for her. Choice or no choice, she abandoned me and then lied to me.

  Finally, I broke the silence. “I’ve got to get back.”

  I said goodbye to Ryan and Rachel. Norah watched as we exchanged affectionate hugs.

  “Wait,” said Norah, with resignation. “I’ve got somethin fer ya.” She took an envelope out of her handbag and handed it to me. “It’s from Connor.”

  “Thank you,” I said, taking the envelope. Then I left the parlor without looking back. I didn’t want Norah to see the tears rolling down my cheeks. I sat in the lavatory stall and cried for a long time before opening the envelope. It was a Christmas card with three more first edition stamps enclosed.

  “Merry Christmas, Peg! I hope to see you in Ireland this summer. Fondly, Connor”

  I lay in bed, trying to decide if seeing Connor would be worth a week’s stay in Norah’s house.

  In June the Reverend Mother assigned me to work in the china press for the summer. While running errands, I ran into Erin and told her what Norah said about Angela’s baby dying and about her being on the run from the Magdalene Laundry.

  Erin nodded her head slowly and pensively, as if she knew something I didn’t.

  “There’s probably someone in the laundry who knows that Norah takes in runaways,” she said.

  “Wouldn’t Norah be in trouble if she was caught hiding one of em?” I asked.

  Erin looked surprised that I’d ask the question. “Sure she’d be. The garda would be out lookin fer the runaway. Not many a woman would be seen talkin ta a Maggie, let alone havin one in her house!”

  “What a fool Norah is.” My statement shocked even myself.

  Erin looked stunned. “Fool? I’d say she’s a brave woman. It’s not right that they lock up those girls. What about the men who put them in that state! They’re not condemned fer their sins.”

  During my walk back to the convent I realized that I was jealous that Norah would risk her reputation on someone she didn’t know, like Angela. I admired her and hated her at the same time.

  It was a warm day in July and I could see beads of sweat lining the edge of Mother Bernard’s habit. She handed me an envelope. “Yer ticket ta Galway. Clare will cover the china press while yer gone.”

  I hesitated, but knew she was not one I could argue with. She knew I didn’t want to go. I turned to leave her office.

  “Peg,” she said before I went through the door.

  “Yes?”

  “She’s couldn’t keep you, but she’s still your mam.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  K atie asked me to mind Siobhan during the trip to Galway. She was a small, shy, eight-year-old girl with stringy, short black hair. I took her brown paper bag and put it with my satchel on the overhead shelf. My patience was short and I didn’t feel like chatting, so I told her to take the window seat. I was hoping the passing view would keep her entertained.

  Siobhan’s presence beside me triggered a memory from my first trip to Galway. I recalled being both scared and excited. I had no idea who I was staying with or why I’d been invited. It was during that first trip that my yearning to belong to a family developed. Each year after that, I felt grateful for the experience, but my desire to belong grew.

  Now that I knew that Norah gave birth to me, it changed my perspective. I resented being a visitor. A child’s place is with her family, in her home. I should be living in that house, not an institution. Norah should be caring for me, not the nuns. How come I wasn’t good enough to live with her? I felt like a second-class citizen. It made me feel unlovable.

  I concluded that her annual invitation was made out of guilt. She probably thought it was a way to compensate for what she’d done to me.

&n
bsp; I think it was cruel of her to wave family life in my face each year, only to send me back to the industrial school. Each visit caused me to spend many a night praying and wishing to be part of the Hanley family.

  With a sigh, I looked at Siobhan and hoped she’d have a better experience. The train slowed down, pulling into the Woodlawn Station, and she stood up. I told her to sit back down and warned her that it was going to be a lengthy journey.

  “When you see the Galway Bay, it means we’re almost there.”

  Siobhan’s aunt was waiting on the platform when we arrived. I made arrangements with her to meet up for the return trip. While we spoke, I could see Norah holding Rachel back. When Siobhan and her aunt left, Norah released her grip on Rachel, and she raced over to greet me. I was deeply touched by her affection. She was too young to understand we were sisters, but I felt like she loved me anyway. Norah stood aside, twisting a handkerchief in her hand. She smiled and said, “I’m so glad yer here.”

  I responded with an unenthusiastic, “Hello.”

  Four-year-old Rachel was quite a chatterbox and provided a pleasant diversion as we made our way to the Hanleys’ house. I held her hand and listened as she shared all of the news. She told me that the house was very quiet since Ryan left to spend time on the farm with Granny.

  Then she told me just what I’d wanted to hear. “Auntie Margaret, Uncles James, and Connor are visiting.”

  When we arrived at the house the table was already set. Norah immediately put the kettle on the burner and I went to the bedroom. I put my things away, then sat on the bed, unsure of what to do next. I took a book from my satchel and went out to the yard and sat by the shed.

  Norah called to me from the back door, “Peg, the tea is ready.”

  “I don’t want any,” I responded without looking up.

  One of the boarders, Tara, had lent me Dubliners by James Joyce. I flipped through the pages, trying to decide which short story to read first. I chose the story entitled “Eveline.” It was difficult for me to concentrate and I reread the first paragraph several times. Finally, I put the book down.

  It seemed very wrong that I was a visitor in my own mam’s house. How could she pretend all these years that I was just a visiting house child? I dropped my head into my hands. Was she that ashamed of me? Was she that concerned with her own reputation that she could deny me? These questions were only answered by the tears rolling down my cheeks.

  I thought about the things I’d heard from Erin and the boarders. They said the local priests and nuns made arrangements for unwed mothers. The mothers were punished and forced to surrender their babies. If not, they’d be shunned by the church and ostracized by the community. My tears turned to sobs. I cried for myself and all the other children like me. I even cried for the mothers. It seemed like a big conspiracy to project all Irish Catholic families as being unblemished by hiding away their illegitimate children. I tried to direct my anger toward the church and society.

  Rachel came outside and sat down beside me. She patted me on my back with her tiny hand and said, “Don’t cry, Peg.”

  I did my best to put aside my feelings and pull myself together. There was no good way for me to handle this trip. Being rude wasn’t going to help the situation, but it was difficult to pretend I wasn’t angry.

  There was little conversation during supper. I did nothing to ease the mood. Dan was unsuccessful in his attempts to engage Norah and me in conversation. When supper was done, he abruptly left for the pub, which appeared to bother Norah. I sat in the green chair with my head in Dubliners, pretending not to notice anything. Norah slammed the pots and pans while she washed them. When she was done, she threw the dishtowel on the table and went out to the yard. Rachel became timid in the midst of her mam’s anger and squeezed into the chair beside me.

  “What’s wrong with mam?” she asked.

  This situation wasn’t my fault. I was the victim and no one wanted to acknowledge that. Oddly enough, I felt somewhat responsible and guilty about the unrest in the household. I put down my book and held Rachel close to me.

  I awoke later that night to rumbling in the kitchen. Standing close to the bedroom door, I could hear Norah and Dan arguing. It was difficult to make out what they were saying, but I was sure of one thing Dan had said.

  “I won’t be walking on eggs in my own house!”

  I knew he was referring to the tension between Norah and me. If they sent me back to Ballinasloe early, I’d be facing a severe reprimand from Mother Bernard. I couldn’t let that happen, for fear she wouldn’t allow me back into Secondary School. Rules about behavior in pubic were extremely strict and the punishment was harsh.

  My feelings of anger were re-triggered at the sight of Norah sitting at the breakfast table. I took the kettle from the burner and poured myself a cup of tea. I felt her watching my every move. I knew I needed to change my attitude during this visit, but it was extremely difficult. I sat down at the table and said good morning. In an effort to ease some of the tension I told her about my job in the china press. She sipped her tea and listened intently.

  “The Reverend Mother must have great trust in ya. She must recognize how bright ya are. Sure, I’ll bet yer the best in yer class!”

  I shrugged my shoulders, wondering if Norah was being genuine in her comments. My anger toward her generated a feeling of distrust in everything she said and did.

  After we ate, I took my time getting dressed, knowing I’d see Connor. While we waited for the Coogans to arrive, I entertained Rachel, keeping my distance from Norah. I’d be polite toward her, but it was only meant to decrease the tensions imposed on the people around us.

  It was nearly noon before there was knock on the door. I greeted Margaret and then James as they entered the house.

  “Peg, ya’ve turned inta quite a young lady since I seen ya last!” Margaret commented.

  Connor came in behind them. I hadn’t seen him in almost two years. He was more handsome than I remembered. His face brightened as mine paled with nervousness when he greeted me.

  We sat around the table eating the impressive spread that Norah had put out. The two sisters monopolized the conversation, catching up on lost time. Connor winked at me and excused himself when he was done.

  “Let’s go outside,” he said.

  I followed him into the yard with Rachel trailing behind. She entertained us, putting on a little show. We laughed and clapped while she sang and danced. Eventually, Rachel left us alone to perform for the audience inside the house.

  When we were alone, Connor reached over and stroked my hair.

  “My mam is right,” he said, “You look lovely.”

  I looked toward the ground. Feeling Connor’s touch, and hearing him compliment me, caused me discomfort. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it felt foreign. It was something I’d play over in mind the next few days.

  Aside from an occasional appearance by Rachel, Connor and I sat alone outside for the remainder of the afternoon. He told me about his friends at home and his plans for the future. His stories piqued my curiosity about life in America. I asked him what he thought the differences were between the Americans and the Irish.

  “I’d say Americans are a bit more open-minded,” he said. “Not so focused on religion and customs.”

  I sat thoughtfully for a moment and then nodded. “The social norms here are awfully rigid.”

  Spending time with Connor softened my attitude about this holiday.

  I sat at the table watching Norah prepare a stew. I wouldn’t tell her, but I admired how she cooked with purpose and pride. She glanced over at me and smiled cautiously, not saying a word. I got up and set the table without being asked; it was my way of offering an olive branch. As much as I hated admitting it to myself, I wanted a relationship with Norah. After all, she was my mam. Even though she had lied to me, she’d also shown me great kindness—more so than anyone else in my life.

  That evening was a bit more pleasurable for everyone. I could see the
relief in Dan’s face while we talked about our plans to go to the strand on Thursday with Margaret and Connor. Later, we watched another performance by Rachel, who obviously enjoyed not having to compete with Ryan for center stage.

  The following day, I ran errands for Norah in town. It felt good to be out on my own for a while. The breeze from the bay, and smell of the salt water, drew me to the quay. I sat on the pier and watched the currachs bring in their daily catch. It was hard to imagine this body of water flowed into the Atlantic and across to America. So many Irish took the trip across the ocean to find a new life. I hoped to be one of them someday.

  Walking through Galway City stirred up many good memories. I knew I had Norah to thank for that. That evening Norah prepared a wonderful meal, exceeding her usual high standard. Dan was delighted.

  “Ya’ve outdone yerself, Norah!” he exclaimed.

  Then he looked over at me.

  “Ah Peg, sure I know myself, Norah did this fer you, not me.”

  I smiled weakly in response. I wanted more than a special meal from Norah.

  Dan didn’t seem to notice the sadness his comment imposed upon me. He asked me if I had plans for work at the end of the school year. His question took me by surprise. I was sure he knew I’d been enrolled in Secondary School.

  “I’ll only have my Intermediate Cert at the end of the school year. I’ve got another year ta go fer my Leaving Cert.”

  Norah and Dan exchanged a look that caused me some concern. It left me wondering if they were hiding something from me. Maybe it was my imagination; I easily became suspicious these days.

  I was a bit nervous on Wednesday morning. Granny would be coming for tea when she finished selling her wares at the market. I hadn’t seen her since that awful day last year. Norah kept looking out of the window awaiting her arrival. I think she may have been ill at ease about the visit, too. I suspected she was fearful that her mam might reveal more of the truth.