by L.H. Cosway
I paused, my forehead furrowing in confusion. “If that’s the case then why make up an inheritance? Why not just tell me you were going to share the insurance money with me?”
“Because I wanted you to think your father thought of you. I wanted you to have the peace of knowing he prepared for you to be taken care of if he died. I made up the part about you finishing school because I just wanted to keep you with me a little while longer.
“So, all of a sudden you want me around and care about my peace of mind?” I scoffed, at the same time a trickle of uncertainty pushed through. Was she telling the truth or was this another lie? Another manipulation to keep me under her roof and therefore, under her control?
“I didn’t want you to leave. You’re all I have left.”
“If I’m all you have left then why the hell do you treat me like I’m lower than dirt?”
“Because I want you to be tough,” she answered, desperation in her pale green eyes. “I want you to be a survivor. The world chews up women like us, women who are all alone. And look at you now. Look how strong you are. Your fury could burn this entire house to the ground.”
My heart skipped a beat because there was a ferocity in her gaze that made me feel like she was telling the truth. Was she? Had her treatment of me truly been some twisted version of maternal care? “You’re not alone, Vee,” I told her. “You have Sylvia and Noah. I’m the one who’s alone.”
“Noah will never stay here. He’ll be gone just as fast as he arrived. And Sylvia isn’t who you think she is. You’ve only ever known her to be sick and weak. She was a completely different person before her MS broke her down.”
I stared at her, my stomach churning. I sensed a truth coming. A truth I’d subconsciously chosen to remain oblivious to because it was easier. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that my mother is a vile, evil monster, and if anyone deserves a slow, torturous death, it’s her.”
“That’s not true,” I said, even while the veracity of her words hit home. For so long, I’d wondered how Noah could seemingly care so little for his mother. How he barely acknowledged her when they were in the same room. Vee was the same way, sometimes even outright callous. “Sylvia is one of the kindest people I know,” I said, my mind racing. I started to see things under a whole new filter.
“There are none so blind as those who will not see,” Vee said, eyeing me pointedly. She was the last person I expected to quote scripture. She always hated it when I mentioned anything to do with the Bible.
“You’ve never seen my mother’s true face,” Vee went on. “And I hope to God you never do.”
It was hard to envision a version of Sylvia who wasn’t completely timid and meek. But now, different memories entered my head, revealing the truth. I remembered that moment during Vee’s birthday party when I’d caught Sylvia staring at her with pure hatred in her eyes. And after Noah’s get-together, when she tried to make me believe he was dangerous, but when I’d asked questions, she feigned exhaustion. She’d been trying to plant seeds of doubt, to keep me away from Noah, but why?
The world tilted. Suddenly, I didn’t know what to think or who to believe. But the anger I’d felt moments ago dissipated. Now I just felt tired and confused.
I looked to Vee. “I’m going to stay at Aoife’s for a few days.”
“Please come back,” Vee begged. “Don’t leave me alone in this house with her. I couldn’t stand it.”
I was taken aback by her plea. The idea of Vee needing me seemed surreal, and yet, here I stood with her begging me not to abandon her. It was like I’d been plunged into an alternate reality. I stared at her, at how small and weak she looked. Sometimes I hated the fact that I had empathy because it was that same emotion that made me take pity on my wicked stepmother. It turned out she might not be so wicked after all.
“I won’t leave you,” I told her, exhaling heavily. “I just need a few days to get my head straight. I have a lot to think through.”
She nodded weakly, and I walked by her, pulling my bag onto my back. I froze when I saw Noah standing right outside the room. Had he been present this whole time? I met his gaze, but I didn’t know what to say to him. We just stood staring at one another, some new kind of understanding forming between us.
I thought of all the times I’d witnessed him being mean or dismissive towards Sylvia. I’d thought him cruelhearted for it, but now I saw it in a whole new light. Then I thought of him discovering Vee’s lie and treating me to a shopping spree and dinner in the city because he felt so bad about what she’d done. My heart had already softened towards him, but now it was in danger of falling completely.
The world was a different place than it had been this morning, and I was too exhausted to digest all that had changed. All I knew was I needed to get out of this house for a while and spend some time with my best friend.
“I’m spending the night at Aoife’s,” I said, and he nodded soberly, pulling the car keys from his pocket.
“I’ll drive you.”
18.
Dad and Vee were right. They were cursed. Dark shadows chased my father, and now those same shadows chased after me. I couldn’t come up with any other reason for how my grand plans had shattered before my very eyes, nor why I was haunted by such disturbing dreams.
I didn’t want to spend my entire life running away from them like Dad did. Like Vee still was. I wanted to face them head on. I’d end this blasted curse if it was the last thing I did.
“That’s so awful, Stells,” Aoife said as we lay in her bed staring at the glow in the dark stickers of shooting stars and planets on her ceiling. She’d put them there when she was ten and never thought to remove them.
I spent half the night recounting all that had happened for her. She was just as shocked as I was by Vee’s lie, and by the fact that she managed to spend almost all of Dad’s life insurance money in just two years. I was fairly sure she drank most of it.
Something told me Vee was telling the truth about her intentions though. In whatever contorted way her head worked, she thought she was doing me a favour with her unkindness. And maybe she was. Maybe the world was a cruel place, and I needed to be conditioned to face its cruelty.
The thought of abandoning her to that house and Sylvia had my entire being seizing up with guilt. It was the same guilt I’d felt since I was a girl, the guilt that made me feel like I was always doing the wrong thing even when the wrong thing felt right. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my days with Vee, but the idea of leaving her threatened to drown me in remorse.
Sometimes I wished I didn’t believe in the principles of right and wrong, in the obligation to treat people with kindness and generosity no matter the circumstance. If I didn’t believe in all that then I could be free from the imprisonment of morality. Unfortunately, I did believe in all those things. I held on to them dearly, which meant freedom was elusive.
I had to try and be selfless, even if it didn’t feel very good.
“Get some sleep,” Aoife soothed, stroking my hair. I turned over and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to sleep because I knew the nightmares awaiting me, but I was too emotionally drained to stay awake. I drifted off and miraculously had a dreamless sleep. Come to think of it, I never had bad dreams when I stayed at Aoife’s. I only ever had them at Ard na Mara. That house truly had to be haunted. I could barely stomach the thoughts of going back, even though I knew I had to.
The following day Aoife and I walked to school together. The mood was sombre. Our last class before lunch was English, and I took the opportunity to approach Sister Dorothy once the class ended.
“Can I talk to you in private?” I asked as students filed out of the room. She must’ve sensed my desperation because she nodded gravely.
“Follow me.”
Sister Dorothy led me to the school chapel. We passed by the altar and through a door on the right which opened into a small cloister, beyond which was the red brick, single storey building where the nuns l
ived. Only a handful of them taught in the school, the others preferring a life of quiet solitude and prayer within these walls. I eyed the vegetable patch where carrots, parsnips and a variety of other root vegetables grew.
I continued following her inside and down a long, silent hallway. I’d never experienced such silence, and there was a wonderful peace to it. If Ard na Mara had demons and ghosts in its walls, this place had nothing but angels. Its energy was light, bright and full of goodness.
Sister Dorothy opened a door, revealing a small, simple bedroom. It was only slightly larger than my own bedroom. A round window brought sunlight into the room from up high. The bed was made with clean, pale linen bedding, and a small stack of books sat on the nightstand.
“Is this your room?” I asked.
She nodded. “It’s not much, but it does the job. Please sit.” I perched on the bed, folding my hands in my lap.
“I have to say, I am intrigued,” Sister Dorothy said. “Few students come to talk to me anymore. In fact, you’re the only one who does.”
“I’m sure they would if you didn’t come across so …” I trailed off, unsure how to put it politely.
Sister Dorothy gave a wry smile. “If I didn’t come across like such a grumpy auld bitch, you mean?”
She surprised a laugh out of me, and it was exactly what I needed to relax. I’d made something of a crazy decision about the path my life should take, and I was honestly a little anxious about it.
“What did you want to talk about?” she asked then, her smile turning kind, gentle even. All the aloof dismissiveness she dispensed to the students in her classes was gone. I started to realise that was a mask, a way of handling masses of young women who would challenge her at the tiniest flicker of weakness.
I brought my attention back to my own issue, to the conclusion I’d come to sometime during the night. I knew what direction I needed to take now. Even though it scared me, it was so obvious I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realised it sooner.
“I, um,” I paused, staring at the flowery pattern of the rug on the floor. “I wanted to ask you what I’d need to do to become a nun.”
Sister Dorothy looked momentarily caught off-guard, shooting me a disbelieving look. “You’re not pulling my leg, are you?”
“Not at all, I couldn’t be more serious.”
She cleared her throat. “Well, you’ll forgive my surprise. I haven’t met a person your age who expressed an interest in becoming a sister in quite some time.”
“Any advice you can give is much appreciated,” I said in earnest.
She eyed me speculatively. “Joining a religious order isn’t something to be taken lightly, Estella.”
“I know that, and I don’t take it lightly. I think this is what I was always meant for. I just didn’t see it until now.”
If my dad’s curse was a result of not joining the priesthood, then I would finally fulfil his promise by dedicating my life to God. The thought had never occurred to me, but I knew it had to be done. There was no other choice, and though it was scary, the fact that I didn’t have a choice made me feel oddly resolute. If I wanted to escape the bad luck that stole my dad’s life, then it was a small sacrifice to make in the grand scheme of things. It was simple, really.
Noah’s face flashed in my mind, but I pushed him away. I had to quash any romantic feelings I had for him. Nuns were to remain celibate, after all. And like Vee said, he would be gone as quickly as he arrived. There was no point getting attached.
You’re already attached, my subconscious piped up, but I told it to shut its mouth.
“Well,” Sister Dorothy said. “If you still plan on attending college, having a degree will be beneficial. Most convents give preference to applicants with a third level education, especially in the areas you’ve chosen.”
“What if I wasn’t to go to college though?” I asked. I didn’t have three years to spare getting a degree. The curse could catch up with me before those years were through.
She frowned. “Then it will be a lot harder but not impossible.” She paused to study me. “What’s brought all this on, Estella? I thought you were looking forward to going to college.”
Tears sprang forth. Sister Dorothy reached out to squeeze my hand, her sympathetic gaze on me.
“I was but I … I changed my mind. I don’t need to go to college. I just need to live a life that’s decent and good,” I said because I couldn’t tell her about the curse. Sister Dorothy might’ve been a nun, but she was far too practical and level-headed to believe in such notions. She’d definitely turn me away if I told her the truth.
“You don’t need to become a nun to live a decent, good life. You can do that simply by following the teachings of Jesus.”
“I want to be at peace though. I want to be safe,” I said quietly. “When my dad died, I had no family left, not really. Living with Veronica has been a waking nightmare, and I still feel this unreasonable duty to stay with her even though all she’s ever caused me is misery. Devoting my life to God feels like the only way out.”
Frustration laced my words. Sister Dorothy seemed to absorb what I said before she spoke.
“The fact that you feel a duty to your stepmother shows you have a kind, selfless heart. But the life of a nun might not be the way out you seek. It isn’t just a life of prayer and devotion. It doesn’t mean you’ll be safe from harm. It’s a life of helping those in need and sacrificing personal happiness for the good of others. It’s often the difficult, hard to love others who need us most.”
“Vee claims to need me but it’s so hard to love her. She’s mean and hateful and unkind, but then I see glimpses of how she could be a good person, and that gives me this deep urge to help her be better. But I also feel so completely alone when I’m around her, especially with Dad gone. It’s like she’s opted out of life even though she’s still alive.”
Sister Dorothy kept her hand on mine, her mouth forming a sad shape at my description of Vee. “Can I tell you a story?”
I nodded, sniffling away my tears.
She took a deep breath. “When I was your age, I was hopelessly in love with a boy who lived down the street. We planned to marry and start a family together. People married a lot younger in those days. Our families got along, and everyone approved, so the wedding was set in motion. Then, one day, he was just gone. A brain aneurysm. The love of my life was taken from me before we even had the chance to be together properly. I was in a dark place for many, many months. In all honesty, I didn’t want to go on living.”
“Sister Dorothy,” I whispered.
She patted my hand, her eyes sad at the memory. “It can be a great shock to lose the person you love, and your stepmother is clearly trapped in that grief. I know I can come across a little abrupt and strict, but that’s only because you girls need a firm hand. Deep down I’m just as vulnerable and soft-hearted as the next person. Finding religion helped me deal with that vulnerability. Truth be told, it was the only thing that pulled me through, so I can certainly understand your reasons for wanting to make this choice.”
“And are you happy now?” I asked. “With your life, I mean?”
“I live a very fulfilling life,” she answered. “But it’s not a cure-all. You think you’re alone now, but this life can be lonely, too. Yes, I have my sisters and the companionship we share, but choosing this means giving up many, many things, Estella. You will never have a husband, never bare children. You’ll have to sacrifice monetary and material gain. Is that really what you want?”
“Yes,” I told her unflinchingly, emotion catching in my throat. “I don’t want any of those things. All they bring is heartbreak.” I hated how fixated I’d been on my fictional inheritance. I’d put a price tag on my potential happiness, and when I discovered it didn’t exist, my happiness evaporated. But contentment shouldn’t come from money or any material thing. I needed to find it within myself.
Sister Dorothy surveyed me for several long moments before she spoke again, “I�
�ll put some information together for you, set you out on the right path, but I’d still recommend you take some time to fully think this through. Before you make this decision, we always encourage prospective members of the community to go out and experience the things they’ll have to give up. Since you’re so young I imagine you haven’t yet had a romantic relationship?”
Again, Noah’s face flashed in my head, and my chest heated. “No, I haven’t.” I couldn’t tell if it was a lie. I’d developed a bond with Noah, un undeniable connection, but we’d barely touched, hadn’t even kissed.
“Then I would encourage you to explore that avenue if you’re so inclined. You have the rest of your life ahead of you, and you don’t want to rush into anything. What you want today might not be what you want tomorrow.”
“Thank you. I’ll take that into consideration,” I said, standing. “Thank you for talking to me.”
She nodded and led me out of her room, back through the cloister. A nun knelt on the ground tending to the vegetable patch, and another sat on a bench in quiet contemplation.
I could certainly be content living an uneventful life like these women did, even if there were things I’d have to give up.
For the rest of the day my mind was on my conversation with Sister Dorothy. I thought about what she said, about the sacrifices I’d have to make. If I became a nun, I’d never fall in love with a man, never know what sex was like. Since I’d never had it, it didn’t seem like too much of a sacrifice. But what if I was giving up something wonderful? I thought of the way I felt when Noah touched me, and tingles swarmed my belly.
“I’m thinking of entering a convent,” I said to Aoife as we sat on her bed doing homework that evening.
She blinked several times, her face scrunching up in confusion. “A convent? Do you mean—”
“That I want to become a nun. Yes,” I answered.