“Have a nice time.” Ivy gave a brief jerk of her head and hurried away. It was too cold and wet to stand around chatting.
“God go with you, Ivy.” Theo watched the well-wrapped figure hurry away before turning to enter the church.
Johnjo Smith had stepped back into the church as soon as he viewed the scene outside. He’d wait. He knew where she was going. He’d follow along. The shadows of the morning would hide him. Now he emerged and began to follow her.
“Morning, Ivy!” a voice called out of the dim morning light. A ghostly figure pushing a pram passed under the nearby gas lamp at the entrance to the Pearse Street Tenements, moving along at a fast clip. “What are you doing down this way this morning?”
“Morning, Sheila!” Ivy shouted as their paths crossed. She’d recognised the voice of a dealer friend. “You’re a bit late getting started this morning, aren’t yeh?” Ivy didn’t want to explain her actions to anyone. Sheila was a nice woman but she loved to have the latest bit of gossip to pass along and who could blame her?
“With this weather, Ivy,” Sheila’s voice was moving away in the distance, “I’d have rather stayed in me bed.”
“I hear yeh, Sheila. See yeh!” Ivy turned away from the road. She’d reached the gap she was looking for and without a thought turned into the dark alley that divided the back entrances of the south-side city shops and houses.
“Ivy Murphy, a word.” The deep velvet female voice drifted out of the floating smog – like the voice of God.
Ivy wanted to curse fluently and with feeling. How could she have been so bloody stupid? She should have remembered that this lane led to the back of the convent. She was in for it now.
Johnjo Smith couldn’t feckin’ believe it. What was the woman? The bloody Oracle of Delphi? Did she never walk along unnoticed? Who the heck wanted to talk to her now?
Johnjo wished he hadn’t been so bloody quick to question when he heard Ivy’s next words. Her polite words of greeting sent ice skittering down his spine.
“Mother Columbanus, good morning.” Ivy watched the tall stately figure appear out of the mist.
The nun was of a height with Ivy but the heels of her tightly laced black shoes added height to her tall, slim figure which was enshrouded in a navy-blue nun’s habit. Mother Columbanus, Mother Superior of the French Sisters of Charity, had it all. She frightened the life out of anyone she turned her attention upon. The final bit of intimidation was to be found in the floating white wings of her coif. The nun stood easily six and a half feet tall in her habit. With thick rimless glasses stuck onto the end of her nose, she struck terror into the hearts of all sinners.
“Ivy Murphy, you have been making enquiries concerning the Johnson family and their disposition,” Mother Columbanus stated in iced tones.
Johnjo froze in place, desperately wishing himself miles away.
“You will cease and desist, is that understood?”
The frigid tone of Mother Columbanus’s beautiful speaking voice allowed Ivy to understand that she was an underling, a lesser mortal, unworthy of the great woman’s attention.
“I simply want to know what happened to Ginie Johnson and her son Seán.” Ivy gulped when the nun seemed to glide forward. The whisper of starch from the nun’s habit sounded like batwings.
The nun continued forward until the two women were standing toe to toe.
“Did you not understand my words, Ivy Murphy?” Mother Columbanus looked down her long beaked nose at Ivy, daring her to comment further. The icy stare had reduced novice nuns to hysteria.
“Do you have some information, Mother?” Ivy expected the ground to open up and swallow her. She had seen raptor birds in the Museum of Natural History in Kildare Street. Mother Columbanus could give lessons to those killers.
Johnjo had to take his hat off to Ivy Murphy. She wasn’t taking any rubbish off a nun who regularly caused young boys to pee in their pants.
“I really don’t see that it is any of your business, Ivy Murphy.” Mother Columbanus gave the heavy sigh of the burdened. She’d stepped out here hoping for a moment of peace. She had more important things to do with her time than talk to this urchin. However, if it would stop the annoyance of constant demands about the Johnsons she supposed she could spare a minute. “What is it you want to know?” Mother Columbanus imagined she could feel the Lord’s instant blessing upon her for her forbearance.
“What is going to happen to the youngest Johnson children, Mother, do you know?” Ivy had a pretty good idea of the fate of the children but she wanted to hear the answer from this woman’s lips. She felt the blood leave her head at her daring.
Johnjo Smith, concealed by mist and shadow, held his breath.
“The youngest children of that unfortunate family have been sent to new homes in the colonies,” Mother Columbanus was pleased to announce. The shipping of orphans and those with undesirable parents to the New World was surely one of the Lord’s true blessings. The donations made by the grateful families wishing to adopt were much appreciated. These donations financed the growth of the order throughout the world. “The older boys,” she sighed loudly, “have been housed in the Artane Home for Boys, where they will receive the best of education.”
“What of Ginie and Seán, Mother?” Ivy wasn’t going to let it drop. She could do nothing for the older boys. Artane would either kill or cure them.
“Really, Ivy Murphy, you are becoming a pest about these people.” Mother Columbanus didn’t care to repeat herself. “I am unaware of the individual names of the young savages groomed for their new lives by the good sisters in Wexford. I have already stated that these fortunate young souls will not be returned to their poverty-ridden family. Ginie Johnson I do know something of. She is with the Magdalene Sisters. They will do the best they can with that young hussy. In time she will be brought to repent of her sinful ways. We really can’t inflict someone of that nature on the kind people of the colonies.”
“I see.” Ivy – with a sinking heart – did see.
It was a nightmare. The older boys would be battered and abused. Nothing new to the Johnson lads – with luck some would survive. Seán was a different kettle of fish. He would not have gone meekly with the do-gooders. Something wasn’t right. The little lad would never submit to the nuns’ unthinking brutality. If Seán behaved as Ivy knew he would, this nun would have heard about it. She wouldn’t be able to resist commenting on Seán’s behaviour. Ginie, dear God, poor Ginie! She’d become a ‘Maggie’, one of the young girls the nuns worked till they dropped – disposable slaves, prisoners of their own shame.
“Thank you, Mother,” Ivy whispered. “I needed to know. Good morning to you.”
Ivy wanted to get away from this woman before she did something terminally stupid. She longed to give the woman the tongue-lashing she was holding back only with great effort.
“Let that be an end to it, Ivy Murphy.” Mother Columbanus bowed her white coif-covered head slightly and glared meaningfully down at Ivy. “It really is none of your business, you know. Leave this sort of thing to those of us better qualified.”
“As you say, Mother.” Ivy gave a brief jerk of her head and turned away.
Johnjo Smith leaned against the wall at his back, glad now of its support. He felt as if he’d been sucker-punched. Some things never changed. What in the name of God was he doing here? Doug had told him he’d take care of contacting Ivy himself. He should have bloody listened. The memories the sound of that nun’s voice had raised in his head, on top of the trip down memory lane in the church, had taken the strength from his knees. His shaking body was running with cold sweat. He was gasping as if he’d run a mile. He leaned against the wall, fighting the images that wanted to form in his head.
He waited until he was sure he was steady on his feet and, with his chin in the air and renewed determination in his heart, turned his feet in the direction of his fancy hotel. He would not be making any more visits down memory lane, that was for sure. They hurt too bloody mu
ch.
Ivy walked along with her eyes on her feet. She was in a worse state than when she’d left home this morning. She’d thought spending time in familiar comforting surroundings might help lift her spirits. The church and first Mass had seemed like something she’d needed. A connection with the life she’d once lived with the family she’d loved and lost. She sighed deeply, sadly.
Chapter 28
“Sadie, do you have a moment?” Ann Marie Gannon walked into the startlingly white kitchen of her new home.
The walls of the kitchen sported white tiles while every free wall space had been whitewashed. The freestanding cupboards were painted white. Sadie lovingly displayed her coloured dishes around the room as decoration. The area had been completely refitted with all of the most modern kitchen features available. Ann Marie didn’t like to admit the kitchen put her in mind of her former work space at the morgue. Time and constant use, she hoped, would take care of that problem. She’d been impatient to move into a home of her own. This house had been well presented and she’d been delighted that she could just move in bag and baggage. She had the freedom of choice now to do what she would with the property. She could change anything that didn’t please her. It would just take time.
“Oh, Ann Marie, you timed that well.” Sadie Lawless pushed the wisps of blonde hair escaping from her bun away from her sweating face. She’d been standing over the ironing board for hours. She was using two black flat irons and had to remain near the white cast-iron range while changing the black metal irons as they cooled.
Sadie, in her long black skirt topped with a white lace blouse, wasn’t aware of the improvement in her own appearance. She’d lost the careworn lines from her pretty face. Her blue eyes and soft lips had always been quick to laugh but now she glowed with health and happiness. The improved nutrition her family enjoyed gave a glow to her skin and hair that had been missing for years.
The fixtures and fittings of their new home were a constant wonder and delight to the Lawless family. They had indoor plumbing for the first time. No more standing in line for the tap and hauling buckets of water. No more slop buckets and smelly deposits. They had flushing toilets, indoors, no more freezing your parts off walking down the yard. She had a range: the sheer bliss of that would take her decades to appreciate. No more cooking over open fires for Sadie Lawless. It would take them all a long time to become accustomed to this luxury.
“Take your time.” Ann Marie walked across the flagstone floor of the kitchen. She walked past the long high heavy wooden work table sitting proudly in front of the big white range and made her way over to the smaller dining table she had insisted should be included in the new kitchen. The Lawless family needed somewhere to eat and the staff dining room off the kitchen simply made more work for Sadie.
“I’ve just put the baby down for a nap.” Sadie took the final piece of freshly ironed bedding into the utility room. “The two cleaning women have finished for the day.” She spoke through a mouthful of wooden pegs while hanging the freshly ironed laundry from the clothes line stretched across the ceiling of the utility room. She never thought she’d see the day when she, Sadie Lawless, had a cleaning staff. Still and all, she’d never expected to set foot inside one of these fancy houses, let alone live in one. “I’ll put the kettle on. I’m gummin’ for a cup of tea.”
“I’ll put the cups out,” Ann Marie offered. There was no point in her offering to actually make the tea. Her skills did not include anything to do with kitchen duties. She set the kitchen table for a tea break while Sadie put the kettle on and tidied away her work.
“Is it just a chat, Ann Marie,” Sadie asked over her shoulder, “or is there a problem I need to know about?”
“Not a problem as such.” Ann Marie sat at the kitchen table and waited for Sadie to make the tea. She’d never had so much tea in her life as she’d had since meeting Ivy Rose Murphy. “Where are the girls?” She looked around as if she expected the Lawless daughters to suddenly pop out of thin air.
“Clare is at school.” Sadie warmed the flowered delft teapot, smiling as she thought of her eldest daughter. “She’s doing really well at her shorthand and typing. John and Jem are that pleased with her.”
Clare Lawless worked at the livery part time. She’d taken a course at the GPO in telephone skills and was presently studying office skills at a local school and making her parents very proud.
“Dora is around the house somewhere. I asked her to check out the rooms after the cleaning women left. I can’t be everywhere. I want fires set and ready to be lit in every room.” Sadie was trying to learn to run this house efficiently. She’d had long conversations with Agnes Reilly, the highly skilled housekeeper who oversaw the running of Ann Marie’s aunt’s home. She needed all the help she could get in this new world and wasn’t too proud to ask for it.
Sadie brought the freshly made tea to the table. She checked that a jug of fresh milk, a filled sugar bowl and a bowl for the slops were on the table. “So what’s the problem?” She sat down and began pouring the tea while waiting to be told the reason for this kitchen visit.
“I’m not sure where to begin.” Ann Marie accepted a cup of tea with a resigned sigh. The new people in her life couldn’t seem to function without a cup of tea in hand.
“The beginning is usually best.” Sadie waited, wondering if her family were going to be in trouble. She couldn’t think of anything they might have done wrong but then they weren’t accustomed to living in such a fancy place.
“I never gave any thought to visitors.” Ann Marie pushed her gold-rimmed glasses up on her nose. She tucked strands of caramel-coloured hair behind her ears and stared intently across the table at Sadie.
Sadie waited. She couldn’t see the problem herself: you opened the door to visitors and put the kettle on. What more did you need to do?
“While I lived in my uncle’s home,” Ann Marie said, “I had visitors of course but the servants were on hand to handle the situation. In truth I didn’t have a great many visitors calling to see me personally.”
Sadie sipped her tea and waited. She was glad of a chance to sit down.
“Well, since I’ve moved into this house so many people seem to want to come to call!” Ann Marie almost wailed. “I don’t know if it’s because the situation here is out of the ordinary or if my friends felt uncomfortable visiting me at my uncle’s house but suddenly I have so many people wanting to call on me at home.”
Sadie wished she could take her shoes off and wriggle her toes. She knew if she did that she’d never be able to get the flaming shoes back on her feet so she contented herself by turning her ankles under the table.
“In my aunt’s home a visitor is greeted at the door by the butler and at least one footman is on hand to take wraps and coats.” The running of a large house was only noticeable when something went wrong. The servants knew their place and under the direction of the butler and housekeeper large homes were run like clockwork. “Visiting guests hand their cards to the butler who takes the engraved cards on a silver salver in to a family member who will decide if they are at home to the caller.”
“You’re thinking of hiring a butler?” Sadie didn’t fancy having some strange man under her feet all day.
“Not in the least,” Ann Marie laughed. “I’m just trying to think how we can handle visitors to this house. You can’t be expected to run upstairs, answer the door, take the card, bring it to me, run down the stairs and prepare a tray then carry it upstairs and stand by to serve. It would be ridiculous and time-consuming. And what if it’s a gentleman caller? It wouldn’t be at all the thing for me to entertain a gentleman, alone.”
“I could always just bang the door in everyone’s face. Tell them all to get lost.” Sadie wanted to suggest Ann Marie open the blessed door herself but bit her tongue.
“That’s certainly one option.” Ann Marie held her hand over her teacup. She didn’t want more tea. “I don’t want to employ a stranger.” The system she had set up w
ith the Lawless family appeared to be working well for all of them. She didn’t wish to instigate change simply to accommodate people who might drop by to visit. She wasn’t actually at home that much. She enjoyed being out and about around the city. “I hadn’t given any thought to socialising in my own home, I’m afraid.”
“I don’t know what’s needed, Ann Marie. I’m learning as I go. I’m no fancy housekeeper with years of training behind me. I don’t know how to cook fancy food either – you know that yourself – you’ve tasted me food.” Ann Marie ate with the family. The meals Sadie produced were plain but tasty.
“I’m an unmarried female. I don’t think anyone would expect me to host dinner parties. However, afternoon tea is something completely different.” She changed her mind about a fresh cup of tea and stood to fetch the teapot from the range. She was very familiar with the routine by now and there was something about sitting visiting around the kitchen table that seemed to call for tea. “What I would like to suggest, if you agree of course, is that I make it known I am available to visitors on a certain day at a set time. What do you think?”
“What has that to do with me?” Sadie accepted a fresh cup of tea.
“I thought I could employ your Dora to answer the door to visitors and serve afternoon tea. I’ve noticed she is the one who answers the house phone and takes messages. This would be more of the same.” Ann Marie returned the teapot to the range. “You would be in the kitchen preparing the tray to be carried to the withdrawing room. What do you think?”
“What’s a fancy afternoon tea when it’s at home?” Sadie felt her stomach sink at the very thought of having to prepare a tea for Ann Marie’s snobby friends. What her Dora would say about being turned into some fancy maid, she didn’t know.
Ha'Penny Chance (Ivy Rose Series Book 2) Page 24