‘Come and sit with me,’ Tom said, tapping his knee.
I wanted to die. ‘I’m just getting a drink of water,’ I said, rushing out of the room.
Edward was in the kitchen reading the paper. ‘Would you like some milk, Frances?’ he said.
‘Yes, please.’ I pulled out a chair and sat next to him, still trying to think of a way to avoid sleeping in Tom’s bed again. It wasn’t looking good.
Edward put a glass of milk down in front of me. ‘Don’t look so unhappy. Is it because you’re going back to the convent tomorrow?’
I burst into tears. He picked me up, gave me a cuddle and sat me on his knee.
‘You’ll be able to come back and stay with us again soon, I’m sure of that. We’re already very fond of you, you know.’
His comforting words only made me more upset, and tears dripped into my glass as I tried to drink the milk he’d given me. I couldn’t do anything to control them, and putting the glass back on the table, I sobbed and wiped my eyes on the sleeve of my nightie. Edward hugged me and asked what was wrong again, but how could I tell him what his father and uncle had done to me? I was embarrassed and not at all sure that he would believe me. And I was too frightened to say anything about the nuns for fear of what they would do to me when I got back.
Just then Maggie came in to get a drink. She seemed annoyed that her brother was comforting me and clearly thought I was putting it on. Edward was unaware of his sister’s dirty looks, but I tried hard to stop crying and pull myself together because I wanted to get on with Maggie, even though she’d taken such a dislike to me. She poured out some lemonade and left the kitchen.
Again Edward asked me what was wrong, and again I didn’t reply.
‘Come on, let’s see what’s on the telly. It might take your mind off things.’
He gave me a piggyback to the couch, and I climbed onto his knee before Tom could call me over to sit with him. The news was on. I found it boring and started to flag, but I was worried about falling asleep. Hoping that if I stayed awake until Tom went to bed then perhaps he might be too tired to disturb me, I struggled to keep my eyes open. I lasted out through the news and part of the next programme, which was also rather boring.
CHAPTER 11
The Family
Eventually, I must have fallen asleep, as the next thing I remember was waking up in bed next to Tom. He had a firm hold of my little hand and was rubbing it up and down against the hard thing between his legs, which was wet, sticky and horrible. I tried with all my strength to pull away, but it was no use. His grip on me tightened, and he moved my hand up and down even faster, breathing heavily now and grunting like a pig. I tried to blank out what he was doing, but it was impossible, and I broke into quiet sobs. How could this be happening all over again?
‘Ye’re OK, it’s Uncle Tom,’ he rasped, continuing to rub himself with my hand. ‘Now come and lie on me for a cuddle, and I’ll tell the nuns how good ye’ve been. I’ll say that we’d love to take ye out for holidays, wouldn’t ye like that? Ye get on with us all, don’t ye? And we like having ye here. Now come and be nice to Uncle Tom, that’s a good wee girl.’
He tried to lift me up onto his sweaty belly. I was so terrified that I thought I might go mad with fear.
‘I really need the toilet!’ I said, trying to push away from him. If I could make it to the bathroom, then I could think about what to do next.
He rolled over and grabbed me. ‘Quiet! Or you’ll wake everyone up.’
‘But I need the toilet,’ I insisted, even more loudly.
He seemed angry but loosened his grip on me, and I scrambled off the bed. Relieved to be free from him, I headed towards the crack of light that crept in through the bedroom door. My hands shook as I turned the handle, praying he wouldn’t call me back. Slipping out of the bedroom, I ran to the bathroom and locked the door.
Still shaken, but hugely relieved, I reached up to the basin, turned on the hot water and washed my hands over and over again. But however much soap I used, they still didn’t feel clean. Feeling disgusted and dirty, I stood by the sink sobbing. But I had to pull myself together and think quickly. I needed an excuse for not getting back into bed with Tom. As I calmed down, I noticed that the house was completely quiet. All that could be heard was the gurgle of water running through pipes.
I sat on the toilet feeling cold, tired, lonely and miserable. It occurred to me to wake Edward up and say I was sick, but he would probably tell me to get back into bed where Uncle Tom would look after me. I thought about waking Siobhan, but she was sleeping with Barry, and I didn’t want to be near him, either. There didn’t seem to be a way out.
It was still a long time till morning, and I knew I’d have to think of something soon. I prayed to God for help, even though I’d asked for his help lots of times and he’d never come. I hoped this time would be different, but deep down I knew I was on my own. I heard Tom outside the door.
‘If you’re finished in there, come back to bed.’ He sounded very impatient and was obviously waiting for me.
‘I can’t come out yet. I’m not feeling very well and I might be sick soon,’ I whispered through the door.
‘Try coming back to bed and you’ll feel better,’ he said.
His words made me cringe. ‘I can’t go back to bed; I’ll be sick,’ I insisted.
Just then I heard Siobhan’s voice. She asked Tom what was going on, and he explained that I was feeling ill. My heart leapt. Maybe I’d be able to convince Siobhan that I shouldn’t get back into Tom’s bed. There was a knock on the door, and she asked if she could come in. I unlocked it just as Tom was going back to his room.
Siobhan was standing outside the bathroom wearing a long pink nightdress with frills around the bottom.
‘How are you feeling?’ she asked, putting her hand to my forehead. ‘You’re not very well, are you?’ She took a good look at me. I was pale and shaking with fear. ‘Come with me and I’ll get you some hot milk.’
On the way to the kitchen I started to worry that I might go to Hell for pretending to be sick but decided that if I confessed to the priest when I got back to the convent, then perhaps it would be OK.
Siobhan began to heat up some milk in a saucepan. I was surprised that she didn’t seem annoyed at being woken. She gave me a bowl in case I was sick and couldn’t make it to the toilet.
‘Tell me when you’re well enough to go back to bed. If you’re too sick, I’ll sit with you until we can see a doctor in the morning. I hope you’re not coming down with something serious.’
Siobhan really seemed to care about me, and I couldn’t remember any adult caring about me before. I guessed that this must be what it was like to have a mother. It was a good feeling. But somehow I had to convince her that I was too sick to get back in bed with Tom, without the doctor being called. Siobhan put the hot milk and some dry biscuits down on the table.
‘There now, this should help you get back to sleep.’
I sipped the milk and nibbled at the biscuits. Siobhan made herself a cup of tea, cut a large piece of homemade cake and sat down beside me to keep me company.
‘You’re going to have lots to tell your sisters when you get back, Frances. I bet you miss them,’ she said, to distract me.
I looked at her sadly, trying to smile. ‘Yes, I do miss them. They’ll want to know everything as soon as I see them.’
When we’d finished our drinks, we moved into the living room. Siobhan made me up a bed on the couch and wandered back into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a hot-water bottle. I snuggled up and felt much better when I realised that I wouldn’t have to go back to Tom. Siobhan sat at the end of the couch and chatted until exhaustion finally overtook me and I fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning I woke to the smell of bacon again. I heard Siobhan ask, ‘Who wants black pudding?’ I had no idea what black pudding was, but everyone seemed to want some.
I listened to them tucking into breakfast. They sounded
like a very happy family who got on well with each other most of the time. I thought how much I would like to be part of the family if it hadn’t been for Tom and Barry. After breakfast there was a lot more noise from the kitchen as they got ready to leave for church.
The back door slammed for the last time and the house was quiet. At first I thought I was the only one left, but then I heard the sound of someone moving about in the kitchen. There was little noise and no talking, so I guessed it was probably just one person. I hoped it wasn’t one of the men. Suddenly, I felt very uncomfortable. If it was one of the men and we were alone in the house, then they would probably come in and see me soon. I shut my eyes, pulled the blanket over my head and lay rigid, listening out, afraid to move or even breathe aloud.
A feeling of complete and utter relief swept over me when I heard the sound of Siobhan gently humming. I got up and went to the toilet. When I came back, she handed me a big mug of tea. It was hot, sweet and just what I needed.
‘How are you feeling now? Could you eat some breakfast?’ she asked maternally.
‘I still feel a bit sick, but I’m much better than I was last night … I think I could try some breakfast, please.’
She looked pleased, obviously concluding that if I was well enough to eat, then I must be on the mend. It struck me that I’d better eat as much as I could, as this was my last day out of the convent and Siobhan’s cooking was great. Unfortunately, now I knew how proper food tasted, the awful convent food would seem twice as disgusting, if that were possible. It was hard to imagine eating that slop again. I couldn’t wait to tell Loretta and Sinéad about Siobhan’s food, although I hoped they wouldn’t be too jealous.
Before long she was calling me into the kitchen and placing a full cooked breakfast in front of me. It looked and smelt wonderful. She followed up with a large mug of hot tea and a plate of toast. I was determined to enjoy every mouthful and take the memory of this amazing meal back to the convent with me. The food tasted every bit as good as it looked. The kitchen was warm and homely, and for the moment I felt content.
Siobhan asked if I’d enjoyed my stay and whether I might like to come back again. I said I’d had a great time, which in many ways was true. She looked so pleased that I didn’t want to upset her by saying anything about the sleeping arrangements, and I simply couldn’t say anything about how Tom and Barry had touched me. Anyway, I would be back at the convent by nightfall, so I wouldn’t have to worry about them for some time. On the other hand, I was anxious about going back because it meant having to concentrate on keeping on the right side of Sister Thomas again, as if that were possible. And the girls who normally picked on me were likely to be worse than usual because I’d been out for a few days. At least my bed would be a relatively safe place.
After breakfast I went off to get dressed. Siobhan gave me back my clothes from the previous day, washed and ironed, and made sure that my case was neatly packed, ready to go. Suddenly, I was overcome by emotion and started to cry. She gave me a hug and said that I could come back again soon. I couldn’t speak and just stood there sobbing, not knowing why I was crying but unable to control it. I was glad that no one else was around to see me. Then she took me into the bathroom to clean up my face before the others came back from church. Fortunately, I’d stopped crying by the time the back door opened and they all piled in.
‘Is there any tea?’ they asked.
Siobhan sorted out mugs and poured tea for Edward, Tom and Barry.
Edward asked if I was feeling better now. I nodded and said that I was. Barry suggested that I should get out for some fresh country air. Tom lifted his mug and went off to the living room. He seemed to be in a bit of a mood and didn’t say anything to me.
‘Can we play on the swing?’ one of the boys asked, and they were on their way out of the back door before Siobhan had managed to say yes.
‘Why don’t ye go, too?’ said Edward. ‘I’ll follow ye down in a while and give ye all a push.’
I ran to put on my shoes and caught up with the boys by the barn, where they were throwing stones at an old tin can. I picked up some stones and joined in. Sean soon tired of the game and concentrated on showing me how to throw properly. Eventually, I managed to hit the can a few times. I’d never done anything like this in the convent, and it felt great.
‘Race ye to the tree,’ said Sean, running towards the field.
The other boys dropped their stones and dashed off after him, but I was having too much fun developing my stone-throwing skills to stop just yet. I thought I was getting pretty good, but with no one there to see me I eventually got bored and decided to join the boys on the swing. They were probably having loads of fun by now.
I ran through the field to the tree, where they were all on the swing trying to push each other off. I sat on the ground and watched for a while, but soon I was swinging back and forth. It was great. I was going to miss this sensation when I got back to the convent, so I shut my eyes and enjoyed the moment. The wind blew through my hair and over my face as I went higher and higher. I’d never imagined it was possible to feel so free. But then I heard Tom’s voice, bellowing out across the field, and my happiness evaporated. He sounded really cross.
‘Stop that now!’ he shouted at the boys.
I opened my eyes and saw him striding towards me with a scary look in his eyes. Reaching out his arms, he pulled me off the swing and chastised the boys for pushing me too hard. ‘What if she’d fallen off? She can’t go back to the convent hurt. What would the nuns think? Yous boys have no sense.’
‘Sorry, Uncle Tom,’ they said one after another.
I tried to stick up for them and explained that I was holding on really tight so I couldn’t fall off. But Tom was having none of it.
‘I’m going to the shop. Ye can come with me.’
It sounded more like an instruction than a request, and not wanting to disobey him, especially when he was so cross, I fell in beside him, and we wandered off past the bungalow and out through the gate.
I was worried that he might say something bad about me to the nuns, which would get me into awful trouble, especially with Sister Thomas. He might still be cross with me for not getting back in bed with him during the night. He hadn’t said anything, but he was acting differently towards me now. I just wanted to be back with the boys on the swing.
Neither of us spoke the whole way to the shop. Suddenly, he switched and was nice to me again. Putting his arm around my shoulder, he asked me what sweets I’d like. He seemed in a much better mood on the way home, and I was relieved that he’d relaxed his grip. My hand was quite sore by now.
‘Will you tell the nuns you had a nice time?’ he asked as we approached the bungalow.
‘Yes, I will. I have enjoyed myself.’
That seemed to please him, and he told me to go back and play on the swing but to be careful. I dashed off, and after I’d had two turns, Barry called us in for Sunday dinner.
We ate at the kitchen table, while Barry and Tom sat with their trays in front of the telly. Siobhan looked all hot and bothered from the cooking and seemed relieved to be sitting down at last. As I munched through my lovely roast dinner, I listened carefully to the way the members of the family spoke to each other. The boys chatted freely and comfortably, talking mainly about the rope swing but also about anything else that popped into their heads, while Edward talked to Siobhan about plants that he wanted to buy for the flowerbeds, but Maggie sat quietly and didn’t contribute anything to the conversations going on around her. Although she seemed close to Siobhan, I couldn’t detect much of a bond between her and any of her brothers. They seemed to just ignore each other. It was strange. I thought they’d be protective of their only sister, but that didn’t appear to be the case. Now and then she sent me dirty looks across the table, but I ignored them.
I ate until I was so full that I thought I would pop. Siobhan asked Maggie to clear away the plates while she served up pudding. Large portions of apple pie and custard t
ook the place of the dinner plates. There was steam rising from my bowl; the portion seemed huge, and I wondered how on earth I was going to eat any of it. I relaxed back into my chair as the rest of the family got tucked in. By the time I’d got round to trying mine, everyone else had left the table and headed off into the living room to watch the Sunday matinée. I had a few spoonfuls before emptying the rest into the kitchen bin, hoping that Siobhan wouldn’t notice. After stacking my bowl, I went to join the others.
Tom told me that I should be ready to go once the film had finished. The thought of leaving caused a flood of mixed emotions in me again. I needed to cry and left the room, closing the bathroom door behind me just as the tears started to flow. Again, I didn’t know exactly why I was crying. Part of me wanted to stay, but another part of me wanted to go. I felt a lot of hurt inside, and the tears were the only way I could let the pain out.
The sound of laughter drifted in from the living room. The film was obviously really funny. The laughter died down for a few minutes and then started up again. I tidied up my face as best I could and slipped back to see what I was missing. It was a hilarious film, and within a few minutes I was totally engrossed. I didn’t even notice Edward pulling me up onto his knee. Like everyone else, my eyes were fixed on the two funny men on the screen.
When the film was over, Siobhan said she’d make a nice pot of tea before Tom took me back. The younger boys looked upset at that, and so did Edward, although he was better at hiding it. I was going to miss them, too, and said my goodbyes as we drank our tea.
Finally, Tom got up and said, ‘Are you ready, then?’
I took one last sip of tea. Siobhan hugged me and said she’d see me soon. Then Edward hugged me. Barry shouted, ‘’Bye!’ from the other room. Maggie was nowhere to be seen. The boys followed us to the gate and waved until we were out of sight.
Suffer The Little Children Page 11
