A Mother's Grace

by Rosie Goodwin

  His hand was stroking her thigh now and she sighed with desire as her passion rose to match his. He was whispering endearments and she wished that the moment could go on for ever. And then suddenly he too was flinging off his clothes and she gazed at his perfect body in wonder.

  ‘I … I should stop,’ he groaned.

  She shook her head. ‘No … no.’ He was astride her now and she arched her back to meet him. She felt a brief sharp pain that lasted for no more than a minute and then she was clinging to him as their passion rose and they moved together as one until at last stars exploded behind her eyes and she writhed in ecstasy.

  ‘Oh, my darling girl, I’m so sorry,’ he choked as he lay on top of her, catching his breath, sometime later. ‘I’ve done the unforgivable and taken advantage of you.’ She could feel his tears on her cheeks and she gently wiped them away as she smiled serenely up at him.

  ‘No,’ she assured him softly. ‘I wanted you to do it.’

  Despite her assurance, he sat up abruptly and, deeply distressed, ran his hand through his thick blonde hair. The magical time they had shared was suddenly over. Grace began to yank her clothes back on and tidy herself, suddenly confused as the enormity of what they had done came home to her. They had committed the cardinal sin! A priest and a postulant, it was like something Cerys Llewelyn might read in one of the romances she was so fond of borrowing from the free lending reading room in Pwllheli!

  And yet still she couldn’t regret what they had done. ‘What will happen now?’ she asked tentatively.

  He shook his head as he hastily dressed. ‘I don’t know, Grace. Forgive me. We must pray to God for an answer.’ He rose then and walked away without giving her a backward glance and she sat staring at a statue of the Sacred Mother as she tried to put her thoughts into some sort of order.

  The next few days passed in a blur. Many of the nuns were still down with sickness so those that were well spent most of their time caring for them, running two and fro, mopping fevered brows and emptying chamber pots. Grace had always thought of the nuns as beings apart so it was a shock to find that they were merely women beneath their dark habits. The illness raged on for almost a month before everyone slowly started to recover and some sort of normality returned to the convent.

  It was round about then that Grace began to feel unwell and thought that perhaps she too was coming down with the illness. And yet, strangely, her symptoms didn’t seem to match those of the others. It was only first thing in the morning that she felt unwell and would have to rush off to the toilets to be sick.

  It’s just a sickness bug, she told herself and tried to go on as normal, although for every minute of every day her thoughts were on Father Luke. She hadn’t set eyes on him since the day in the chapel and longed to be able to speak to him, but suddenly another elderly father had appeared to take the services and the Bible class and life went on much as it had before.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  ‘Where is Father Luke?’ she hissed to the young postulant sitting next to her, one day early in February as they took their places in the chapel and waited for the service to begin.

  ‘I heard he asked to be sent to another parish,’ the young woman whispered back, and Grace’s stomach did a cartwheel. Did this mean that she would never see him again? Had he lied when he told her that he loved her? Her heart broke at the thought. She was still feeling unwell and for the last week she had noticed a slight change in her breasts. They were swollen and sore, but then she had been working very hard while the other nuns were ill so she supposed that she had just overdone it. Now it was all she could do to concentrate on the singing and the prayers. Why would Father Luke ask to be moved after what had happened between them? Had it meant nothing to him? She blinked to stop the tears from falling and somehow managed to get through the mass. The misery she was feeling did not go unnoticed and two weeks later she was summoned to the Reverend Mother’s office. She made her way there on feet that felt like lead, looking deathly pale.

  ‘Are you feeling unwell, Grace? You look very pale,’ the Reverend Mother asked when she saw Grace.

  ‘I’m all right, thank you, mother. Just a little under the weather, that’s all,’ Grace muttered. She felt as if her world had fallen apart. She had thought that her life was mapped out for her but those few precious minutes she had spent with the priest in the chapel had made her question if she was really cut out to be a nun. How can I be? she constantly asked herself. She was wicked, evil even, in the eyes of God, surely? How could she offer herself to him as his bride now? She had been soiled by human hands.

  ‘Would you like me to call the doctor in to take a look at you?’

  The Reverend Mother’s words brought her thoughts sharply back to the present and she shook her head. ‘No really … I shall be fine.’

  ‘Then I’m going to recommend a few days’ bed rest. You have worked diligently caring for the sisters that were ill. Don’t think your efforts went unnoticed,’ the kindly nun told her. ‘I shall have your meals delivered to your room for the time being and if you are no better in a few days’ time I shall insist that the doctor sees you. You may spend the time in meditation and reading your Bible. Go along, child.’

  Grace nodded and miserably made her way back to her room. She knew that the Reverend Mother had only been trying to be kind but she would have preferred to stay busy. At least she didn’t have time to think when she was working. Now the next few days stretched interminably ahead of her.

  Grace stayed in bed for four days but the rest didn’t seem to do her much good. Her breasts were still tender and the sickness continued in the mornings, but all the same she was relieved when she was allowed to return to her normal duties.

  It was the middle of March when she was hanging over the lavatory being violently sick early one morning that Sister Mathilda found her.

  ‘Goodness me, my child. Whatever is the matter?’ she asked.

  Grace glanced up at her, her face waxen and her eyes sunken from lack of sleep. ‘I … I think I’ve got some sort of stomach complaint but I can’t seem to shift it,’ she responded innocently.

  ‘Right, well it’s back to bed for you,’ the old nun told her firmly. ‘The doctor is calling in later this morning to see Sister Mildred and I shall get him to take a look at you while he’s here. Come along now.’

  Grace reluctantly dragged herself back to bed where, much to her surprise, she instantly fell fast asleep. She was woken much later that morning by Sister Mathilda who had shown the doctor to her room.

  ‘I shall leave you now,’ the nun said and glided silently away as the doctor smiled at Grace.

  ‘Right then, young lady, let’s have a look at you, shall we? The sister informed me that she found you being sick this morning. Has this happened before?’

  Grace nodded. ‘Yes, it’s being going on for about two months now …’ She blushed. ‘And my breasts are sore too.’

  He took his stethoscope from his bag and, after asking her to lift her nightdress, he gave her a thorough examination before straightening. Grace noticed that he looked solemn and asked in a timid voice, ‘Is there something seriously wrong with me?’

  ‘Nothing that you’re going to die from,’ he assured her. ‘I’ll get the Reverend Mother to explain what’s wrong to you.’ He returned his stethoscope to his bag and snapped it shut before turning on his heel and leaving without another word.

  Shortly after, Sister Mathilda came to say that the Reverend Mother was ready to see her and Grace followed her through the corridors with her heart in her throat. What if the doctor had been lying and she was seriously ill? Perhaps this was her punishment for being so wicked.

  ‘Come in, Grace, and shut the door behind you, please.’ The Reverend Mother was standing in the window looking out over the grounds of the convent with her arms tucked into the sleeves of her habit, and she looked very concerned.

  Grace stood in front of the desk and eventually the nun said quietly, ‘I don’t quite k
now how to tell you this, Grace. But after his examination the doctor is fairly certain that you are going to have a baby.’

  Grace’s eyes almost popped out of her head, and for a moment the floor rushed up to greet her and she had to grip the edge of the desk.

  ‘B-but I can’t be!’ she gasped.

  ‘The doctor is quite certain that you are.’ The woman eyed her calmly. She was almost as shocked at the news as Grace was. Grace had always seemed to be so innocent and naive, but perhaps that was the problem? Perhaps someone had taken advantage of her?

  ‘Has some man’ – the nun chose her words carefully – ‘forced himself upon you?’ she ended and was further shocked when Grace shook her head.

  ‘No, mother,’ she said in a small voice.

  ‘Then would you like to tell me who the father of the baby is?’

  Grace reeled with shock. She was carrying Father Luke’s baby, but how could she tell the nun that? She shook her head mutely and the nun sighed.

  ‘Then I’m afraid you must realise what has to happen. The situation is impossible and you can no longer remain here.’

  Grace had been standing with her head bowed in shame but now it snapped up as she stared at the nun in disbelief. ‘You’re sending me away?’

  ‘I have no choice, do I?’

  Grace saw the sense in what she was saying. Who had ever heard of a pregnant postulant?

  ‘I would like you to go and change into the clothes that you arrived in and leave immediately. You may leave the dress you are wearing on the bed.’

  Grace nodded numbly. There was clearly no more to be said so she turned and left without another word so she didn’t see the tears that rolled down the nun’s cheeks.

  Once back in her room, she stared around her. This small, cell-like space had become her home and it was strange to think that she would never see it again. She removed the clothes she had arrived in so long ago from the small chest of drawers, folded her white veil and dress and placed them neatly on the end of the bed. She then slipped on her skirt, blouse and sandals, surprised at how strange it felt to be wearing them again. It took only a matter of minutes to pack her rosary and the few items that she had brought with her into her bag and she was ready to leave. After one last glance about her room, she stepped out into the familiar corridors and made her way to the front door. The nuns she passed on the way kept their heads bowed and she flushed with shame. There was no one to say goodbye to her; it was as if the last years had never been and she let herself quietly out of the front door. Glancing back as she walked away she thought she saw the Reverend Mother standing at her window, but the figure quickly vanished and she couldn’t be sure. Some of the postulants were working in the kitchen garden but Grace hurried on with her head down. She didn’t want to talk to anyone just yet; she wasn’t even sure where she was going.

  A short time later when she reached the shelter of the forest, she sat down heavily on the grass with her back to a stout tree trunk. Everything had happened so fast that her mind was spinning. She was going to have a baby! A baby! And it was Father Luke’s baby! Her hand dropped to her stomach and she stroked it absent-mindedly as her heart broke. He must have regretted what had happened between them, otherwise why would he have asked to be moved? But she didn’t regret it and at least now she would have a part of him to keep for ever.

  She swiped at a tear as she remembered the look of disappointment on the Reverend Mother’s face. It must have been such a shock to her when the doctor told her and she would have felt that Grace had let her down. But it was done now and she was going to have to get on with things. At least I shall be all right financially, she found herself thinking as she tried to be practical. Mr Mackenzie would have continued to send her allowance to her aunt each month so there should be a tidy amount amassed by now. But where should she go? She shied away from the thought of returning to her home town. How could she face her father with an illegitimate child growing inside her? She doubted that Aunt Gertie would be too pleased about it either, but hopefully she would give her shelter until she had found somewhere reasonable for herself and the baby, when it came, to live.

  It felt strange to be sitting there with nothing to do and for a moment she enjoyed the sense of freedom. But Grace was a practical person at heart and she knew that she would have to go and face her aunt and give her the shocking news sometime, so she may as well go and get it over with. She rose slowly and picked her way through the trees. She hadn’t been allowed to visit her aunt for almost three months now so she would be surprised to see her, especially wearing ordinary clothes. When the cottage came into view, Grace stood for a moment admiring it and realised that she had missed it. She could see Mrs Llewelyn hanging freshly washed sheets on the line with her mouth full of wooden clothes pegs and Mr Llewelyn was digging in the vegetable garden. Grace took a deep breath and ploughed on.

  It was Cerys Llewelyn who saw her approaching first and as she took in Grace’s attire, her mouth gaped and the pegs dropped to the ground.

  ‘Why, cariad, whatever are you doing here and dressed like that?’

  ‘I’ll explain later, Mrs Llewelyn,’ Grace told her calmly. ‘But I need to speak to my aunt first. Where is she?’

  ‘She’s inside on the phone … but I ought to warn you—’ The last part of the sentence was lost on Grace as she stepped into the cottage and quietly closed the door behind her.

  Gertie paused with the phone receiver still to her ear when Grace entered. She showed no surprise whatsoever to see her, but then Grace knew that it took a lot to shock Aunt Gertie.

  ‘I’ll call you back,’ her aunt said shortly to whoever it was she was speaking to, her eyes still trained on her niece.

  She dropped the phone back into the cradle and Grace took a deep breath. It was best to get it over and done with. But she had no chance to say anything, for Gertie told her, ‘My dear girl, that was Mrs Batley and I’m afraid I have some very bad news for you … your father passed away early this morning.’

  Grace just stared at her. This was the second shock she had received today and she just couldn’t take it in. But one thing was for certain, now was not the time to tell her aunt about the baby.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  ‘Eeh, what a day this has turned out to be,’ Mrs Batley commented as she poured boiling water onto the tea leaves in the teapot. The undertaker had just left with the judge’s body, which would now lie in the chapel of rest until his funeral. The words had barely left her lips when Nurse Matthews walked into the room looking very smart indeed in a little hat that she wore at a jaunty angle and a smart two-piece suit. She had lost a lot of weight over the last few months and out of uniform she looked quite attractive. She was carrying the small suitcase she had arrived with and as they caught sight of it both Mabel and Mrs Batley raised their eyebrows.

  ‘I’m leaving,’ the nurse informed them. ‘There is no need for me to be here now my patient has gone but I wanted to say goodbye before I went.’

  ‘But what about the wages that are due to you?’ Mrs Batley said. ‘Mr Mackenzie hasn’t had time to come and sort everything out yet.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about that.’ Nurse Matthews smiled. ‘I shall send my address through to him and he can forward them on to me. I thought I might go and stay with my sister in Ledbury for a while before I take up another post.’

  ‘Well, yer deserve a rest,’ Mrs Batley conceded with a little catch in her voice. She had grown fond of the nurse during the time she had been there. ‘The judge weren’t the easiest o’ patients. But are yer sure yer up to travellin’ today? None of us got much sleep last night after the judge had another seizure. Why don’t yer wait until tomorrow?’

  Nurse Matthews’s face softened but she shook her head as she drew on her gloves. ‘Thank you, but I’d rather get off, if it’s all the same to you. I rang my sister this morning to tell her to expect me and she’ll be worried if I don’t show up.’ She crossed the room and shook Mrs Batley’s hand t
hen turned and did the same to Mabel. ‘Goodbye. I hope everything works out well for you.’ She suddenly looked quite tearful. But then she had been with them over two years now so Mrs Batley supposed it was quite natural; she was feeling a little tearful herself.

  ‘Goodbye an’ take good care o’ yerself, Edith,’ Mrs Batley responded, and minutes later they heard the front door close behind the woman. Mrs Batley sighed, it was the end of another era. Then glancing at the clock, she commented, ‘Grace’s train should be arrivin’ any time now. Gertie said she’d caught the first one after bein’ told the news this mornin’ so I dare say we’d best get a meal on the go.’ It was late afternoon by then and as she fetched some potatoes from the pantry, she frowned and said, ‘It’s funny that Mr Mackenzie ain’t been yet, ain’t it? I rang his office to tell ’em what had happened first thing this mornin’. I thought he’d be straight round here. Still, he was perhaps busy wi’ other business. No doubt he’ll be here tomorrow.’ She set Mabel to work peeling the potatoes while she arranged some lamb chops in a baking tin and added chopped onions and peppers before popping it in the range. ‘There,’ she said, wiping her hands down her apron. ‘A few veg to go with that an’ the mash an’ it’ll make a nice dinner. I’ve got an apple pie I made yesterday that’ll do fer the puddin’.’ She briefly thought of going up to strip the bedding from the master’s bed but decided it could wait until the morning. She couldn’t face going into his room at present.

  Grace arrived an hour later looking tired and strained.

  ‘Eeh, pet, I’m so sorry,’ Mrs Batley said as she gave her a cuddle.

  ‘It’s all right, Batty.’ Grace sighed. ‘We weren’t that close towards the end, as you know.’ That was an understatement, she thought. She had hardly been able to bring herself to stay in the same room as him since her mother’s death, but now was not the time to say it. Her mother had taught her that it was wrong to speak ill of the dead and he had been her father, after all. In fact, she could remember a time when she was little when she had thought the sun rose and set for him, so her emotions were mixed.