One day I was scrubbing the kitchen floor when Sister Francis stormed in.
‘Reilly! Leave your work and come with me,’ she shouted.
What have I done now? I thought, sure that Sister Thomas had sent for me again. My fears seemed to be confirmed when I was shoved into an empty room with Loretta. But then, almost straight away, Sister Lucius came in holding an armful of clothes.
‘Here, put these on,’ she said. ‘You’ve got a visitor.’
A visitor? Loretta and I exchanged glances, but we both knew better than to ask who it was. My heart leapt into my mouth. Could it be…that Mammy had finally come back for us?
I could tell Loretta was thinking the same thing. Maybe our mammy had finally sorted things out and was going to take us away from this awful life. Maybe we’d walk into the visiting room and run into her arms, and then she’d tell us how much she’d missed us and that she was taking us home to our brothers. Please, God, I prayed, please let it be our mammy.
‘You’re to be on your best behaviour, do you understand?’ Sister Lucius went on, her voice sharp. ‘You must tell the visitor how good the sisters have been to you.’
A few minutes later, dressed in clothes we’d never seen before, we were standing outside a big wooden door with Sinéad by our side. Sister Lucius knocked, pushed it open, ushered us inside and shut it behind us.
Across the room, by the empty fireplace, sat a handsome, fair-haired man in his mid-thirties. His skin was tanned, his hair sun-bleached, and he was wearing British army uniform. Next to his chair, I noticed a walking stick. Seeing us, he made an attempt to stand up but immediately winced with pain and sat back down again. He held out his arms.
‘My wee girls,’ he said in a soft Irish accent. ‘Come over here and give yer daddy a kiss.’
Loretta and I looked at him in amazement. Could this really be our daddy? He was a shadowy, half-forgotten figure in our minds, the last person we’d expected to see. And wasn’t he overseas?
We didn’t know it then, but he’d been away serving in India for many years and was soon to leave the army on medical grounds, after developing gangrene in his legs. He’d sent money home regularly to our mother without knowing that she’d put us into the convent. And then, just before his return, she’d sent him a letter telling him what she’d done and where he could find us. He’d come straight to the convent the moment he arrived back in Ireland.
He couldn’t seem to get over how big we’d grown. Delving into his pocket, he took out a large bag of sweets.
‘Share these with your sisters,’ he said, handing the bag to Loretta, who hid it inside her clothes and unwrapped some sweets for us.
‘Eat them quickly and don’t make a mess,’ she said.
Sinéad and I enjoyed the sweets, while Loretta and our father talked. Since we’d been warned to be on our best behaviour, she didn’t dare say anything about how badly we were being treated. Instead, she listened attentively to all that he said.
‘Now, Loretta,’ he said gently. ‘I have something to tell you, and I need you to be strong for your sisters. I’m going into hospital today, but I don’t want you to worry. I had an accident some time ago, and it damaged part of my legs. The doctors have got to take the damaged bit away so that the rest of it can get better. But it will mean that when I come out of hospital, part of my legs will be missing and I’ll be in a wheelchair.’
Loretta looked horrified. He took her hand.
‘I know it’s a shock for you, but I’ve known for a long time now, and I’ve come to accept it,’ he went on. ‘As soon as I’m fit again, I’ll be back for you. Even though I’ll be in a wheelchair, I hope to take you all out of here to live with me, but I shall need you to help with your sisters. We’ve a lot of catching up to do.’
Loretta couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘Of course I’ll help, Daddy. I’m a really good worker,’ she said. Suddenly, she wasn’t so worried about his operation. He sounded very positive about our future together and that made her feel much stronger.
By now Sinéad had chocolate all over her face and hands. Loretta excused herself and took her away to clean her up.
My daddy picked me up and put me on his knee. I liked the smell of his clothes and his aftershave. They were much nicer than the convent smells I was used to. He told me a story about his time in India. I thought he had a kind, gentle voice, and when he spoke, I felt warm inside. It was a wonderful feeling and not something I was at all used to.
I felt that I must be the happiest person in the world. Having a visitor – our first-ever visitor – felt incredibly special, and I could have sat there all day listening to his stories. Most of the other girls saw their families regularly, but no one had come to see us in all these years. It had been impossible not to feel jealous of the others, but now it was our turn, and it felt fantastic, unbelievable. It felt so good to have him there and to feel, at last, like part of a real family. Here was our daddy telling us how much he loved and missed us.
Loretta arrived back with Sinéad, all washed and clean. We sat for a little while longer and talked about the things we’d do when we got a home together. Then Sister Austin came for us. She told us to say goodbye and go straight to the chapel for the Rosary.
One by one, Daddy kissed and hugged us.
‘Hang in there. I’ll be back as soon as I can to take you home,’ he said affectionately.
Sister Austin helped him to his feet and handed him his stick.
‘I’ll see you out,’ she said, walking him to the door.
We smiled and waved goodbye.
‘Look after my daughters till I return for them please, Sister,’ he said as he limped away.
Sister Austin nodded at him and smiled.
Bursting with happiness, Loretta and I got to the chapel just as the Rosary was starting. It felt so good to have seen our father and know that we were getting out of the convent. We prayed to God for his recovery to be quick and to give him the strength to cope after the operation. It was going to be hard for him to raise his daughters from a wheelchair, and Loretta knew that he would be counting on her help, especially with Sinéad, but it was a challenge she was looking forward to. I knew I’d do whatever it took to be of help to him, too. After all, nothing could be as hard as convent life. With so many thoughts racing through our minds, it was impossible to concentrate on the service.
At last there was a light at the end of the tunnel. We could hardly wait to tell our friends. It was such a great feeling to have someone who really cared about us. Maybe now Sister Thomas would leave us alone, but even if she didn’t, it didn’t matter. We could put up with anything for the short time we had left. The Rosary finally ended and we lined up to go out for recreation. It wasn’t too cold – at least, not as cold as it had been for the previous few months. I caught up with my friend, Chrissie, and told her what had happened.
‘We got sweets, and I sat on my daddy’s knee, and he is going to take us out of here as soon as he’s better. But he’s got to go to hospital first for an operation …’
I was talking so fast that Chrissie couldn’t get a word in. ‘Slow down, Frances!’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Chrissie,’ I said, noticing that tears had started to roll down her face. ‘It’s just been the best day of my life.’
‘I’m really pleased for you, Frances, but I don’t know what I’m going to do when you’ve gone. You’re my best friend, and it’s going to be awful in here without you.’ She brushed away her tears with her sleeve as she spoke.
I felt awful. ‘I’ll come to visit you, Chrissie, I promise. I’m sure my daddy won’t mind bringing me on visiting days. You’ll still be my best friend. I’ll never forget you, I swear.’
Chrissie smiled. ‘I won’t forget you either, Frances. It’s going to be awful without you, but I’m happy that at least one of us will be out of this dump. Promise you’ll visit as often as you can.’
‘I promise, Chrissie. Please don’t be sad.’
Over the next few days everyone noticed a big difference in the Reillys. We went about our duties with a smile. In chapel we prayed very hard for our father’s recovery. But best of all, since his visit, Sister Thomas hadn’t blamed us for anything. For the first time ever all three of us were happy.
‘Come along girls,’ bellowed the Mother Superior as she rang the bell for morning prayers. She had a voice like a foghorn, and it would have been impossible to sleep through it. But even worse was the insistent, penetrating ring of the hand bell. I hated waking to that sound at five o’clock every morning.
We all loathed getting out of bed and onto our knees at that time, especially when it was cold. I didn’t mind so much today, though. I would be out of here soon and waking up to the sound of birds singing, or to a shout from my sisters or father. And perhaps he would send for us today or at least by the end of the week. Either way, it didn’t really matter. As soon as he’d recovered, we would be out. I jumped out of bed and knelt on the cold wooden floor.
The radiators had packed up again, and we shivered as we waited for morning prayers to begin. I wondered why the Mother Superior was taking them instead of Sister Thomas.
‘In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, amen.’ Morning prayers had started. ‘I would like to offer up our prayers this morning for the Reillys’ father, who died last night in hospital,’ the Mother Superior said, very matter-of-factly. ‘May he rest in peace.’ Then she continued with normal morning prayers.
No. It couldn’t be true. Surely there must be some mistake? How could my daddy possibly be dead? My head dropped forward, my shoulders slumped, and I began to shake uncontrollably. Tears welled up in my eyes, and a horrible sick feeling filled my stomach. I tried to carry on with the ritual of morning prayers, but a lump filled my throat and stopped the words coming out. I tried to focus on what prayers were being said, but the droning sound of the others praying was beginning to drive me mad.
I wished they would all go away and leave me alone with my grief, but I knew the nuns wouldn’t allow me that luxury. My sisters and I would be expected to carry on with the normal routine of the convent. The prayers and chanting seemed to go on and on. I wanted to scream out, ‘Shut up!’ but didn’t dare. I knew better than that. Years of brainwashing by the nuns had taught me not to express my true feelings. If I could have got up and run out of the dormitory right then, I would have. But my legs wouldn’t move, which was just as well because the nuns, especially Sister Thomas who had no reason now to hold back, would certainly have punished me. So I just knelt there while the prayers dragged on, shaking with anger and sorrow.
My father was dead and with him had died all hope: hope of love, hope of freedom and hope of a normal family life. I wondered why God had allowed it to happen. First I’d lost Josephine, and now my daddy was gone. What had I done that He should keep making me suffer? The nuns often preached about how God loved all children and how He watched over them, but it was hard to believe. If He was watching, how could He let us endure so much?
The Bible is full of miracles and stories of the power of God – God, who created everything and made us in His own image. So why wasn’t He doing something to help my sisters and me? Why didn’t He stop the nuns? Why didn’t He make the pain go away? The more I thought about it, the less I felt like praying. There just didn’t seem much point any more.
Unaware that prayers had finished, unaware of everything, I went on kneeling by my bed, still shaking, while the others started getting washed and dressed.
I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder and heard Loretta saying, ‘Come on, Frances, prayers have finished.’
Turning around to look at her, I saw she had also been crying. I’d never seen Loretta cry before. I didn’t think she’d cry over anything; she’d always been so brave. Even though I couldn’t bear to see her sadness, somehow it made me feel closer to her. I realised that she was in just as much pain as I was and that we were sharing the same grief, so I didn’t feel so alone. We went together to get washed and dressed and had just finished making our beds as the bell sounded for morning Mass.
Lining up with the rest of the girls, we proceeded in a daze along the familiar dreary corridors. In chapel everyone’s eyes seemed to be on us. Father Hughes entered the chapel by the sacristy door and everyone stood up. He faced the congregation.
‘You probably know by now that the Reillys’ father passed away last night. We will offer the Mass for his soul and hope that it will help him get into Heaven.’
Tears streamed down our faces onto our clothes. Once again I found it hard to join in with the prayers or hymns. I wasn’t sure if I even believed in God any more. He’d condemned us to a life of misery in the convent by taking from us the one person who loved us and was going to get us out. Sister Thomas looked across the chapel at us, her eyes boring into us. Loretta stared straight back at her defiantly, blazing hatred, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. With our father gone, there was no one now to protect us, and I knew that it wouldn’t be long till she found some excuse to pick on us again. It would probably be even worse this time, since she’d been compelled to be ‘nice’ to us for the last few days and would want to show us she was in charge again at the first available opportunity.
On our way to breakfast, Sister Austin took us out of the line for a talk.
‘I have arranged for you to see Sinéad after breakfast. If you go outside to the recreation ground, Sinéad will be brought to you. I’m sorry about your father. He was a very nice person, and I’m sure he’s in Heaven.’ There was genuine sorrow in her voice.
‘Thank you, Sister,’ said Loretta.
I was still crying and couldn’t say anything, but we both appreciated her kind words. By the time we arrived at the refectory, breakfast had started. Our food was already on the table, and every pair of eyes was on us as we moved to our seats. We joined our hands, bowed our heads and quietly said grace, chanting the words without even thinking about them, mostly out of habit, but also because Sister Mary Louise was watching us. We certainly didn’t feel like thanking God for anything, especially the food in front of us. I felt sick at the sight of that disgusting porridge. Loretta started eating and I thought I’d better eat as well if I wanted to be allowed to see Sinéad. Also, the porridge would be back on the table for me at lunchtime if I didn’t eat it now. Just as I raised the spoon to my mouth, Chrissie tapped me on the arm.
‘I’ll eat it for you. Pass it over when they’re not looking.’
‘Thanks, Chrissie,’ I said, relieved to have at least one less thing to worry about. We scanned the room, and as soon as it was safe, we quickly swapped bowls and Chrissie ate my soggy square of porridge.
Talking wasn’t allowed in the refectory, so no one had the chance to say anything about Daddy. I was glad of that; anything anyone said about him now would only make me feel worse. The tears I was trying so hard to hold back could easily start again, and I didn’t want anyone, least of all the nuns, to see me cry. Still, I could see that many of the girls wanted to say how sorry they were for me. I tried to stop thinking about Daddy by focusing instead on the meeting with Sinéad, but as much as I tried, I couldn’t get the pain to go away.
After breakfast Loretta and I went to the recreation ground and waited for Sinéad at the railings, which separated the infants from the rest of the convent grounds. Sinéad looked pleased to see us, and we would have hugged her if we could, but the iron railings prevented any close contact. We felt we needed to be strong for her, so we fought to hold back the tears. But as she stood on the other side of the railings, her blonde hair blowing in the breeze and a smile on her face, it struck me that in fact she didn’t seem at all upset. Maybe the nuns hadn’t told her about our father’s death. Gently, I asked her if she knew that Daddy was dead. Looking up at me, she started to laugh.
Her laughter infuriated me. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with rage. I began shouting and screaming at her. ‘Stop laughing! Our daddy’s dead. Don�
�t you realise we’ve lost everything?’
I was hurting so much that it didn’t occur to me that someone aged five would have little, if any, understanding of the concept of death. The idea of having a father, or of escaping from the convent, probably didn’t mean much to her, either. But I was so angry that I couldn’t think straight. Worried that I’d draw the attention of the nuns, Loretta tried to calm me down, but I was completely oblivious to her pleadings. Unable to contain my fury and hurt, I began venting them on Sinéad. I thrust my hands through the railings and grabbed her by the hair. Wrapping my hands around her head, I pulled as hard as I could.
All three of us were screaming and crying now. A group of nuns ran over, shouting at me to stop, but I couldn’t hear them. I was out of control and unaware of my surroundings. They tried to pull me away but couldn’t loosen my grip on Sinéad. Blind with rage, I went on pulling her head until it was fully through the iron railings and she was stuck. Still shouting at her, I kept a stubborn grip on her hair.
Eventually, I became aware of Loretta and the nuns. My small fingers were prised apart, and I stood there, pale and in a state of shock, clutching large clumps of Sinéad’s blonde hair. I didn’t feel at all sorry yet for what I’d done. I loved my sister dearly but couldn’t forgive her for laughing.
The nuns now turned their attention to Sinéad and went to assist the nun who was trying to pull her head back through the railings. They didn’t have much luck, and Sinéad started to panic, even though Loretta was trying to comfort her and calm her down. One of the nuns went off to get the Mother Superior. Loretta and I were ordered back inside to await our punishment. The visit with Sinéad was clearly over.
Not long afterwards we heard fire engines outside. Although there had been no fire alarm, some of the other girls were worried there was a real fire, but then an ambulance arrived, and soon the news about Sinéad had spread throughout the convent.
Locked away in another part of the convent awaiting my punishment, I had to rely on the other girls for information about what was happening. Finally, the news came through that Sinéad had been released and was OK. As I calmed down and the reality of what I had done sunk in, I felt awful. I loved my little sister and wondered how I could have done such a thing. Loretta and Sinéad were the only family I had, and I knew it would be ages now before the nuns let either Loretta or me see Sinéad again. We might even have to wait till she moved up to juniors. Also, there was a strong feeling between us that we should stick together, which I’d betrayed. I was desperately worried that Sinéad would never talk to me again.
Suffer The Little Children Page 6
