‘We have to try to get away,’ I said nervously. ‘When Miss Reed comes back, we’ll tell her that we need to go to the toilet. Maybe there’s a window that we can get out of.’
‘OK,’ Sinéad said. ‘What is this place, anyway?’
‘I don’t know, but I don’t like it.’
Miss Reed came back to sit with us, and the man walked off. ‘I need the toilet, miss,’ Sinéad said, wriggling about on her chair.
‘Me too, miss. I need to go as well.’
Miss Reed took us to the ladies’. ‘I’ll wait here for you,’ she said, standing outside.
Once inside the cubicle, I climbed up to the window and opened it, only to find that there were bars on the other side.
‘We’ve had it Sinéad. We’re stuck here,’ I said. ‘Oh well, I suppose we’ll find out soon enough what’s going on.’
Miss Reed banged on the door. ‘Come along, girls.’ She had two bottles of orange juice in her hand and offered one to each of us. ‘We could be here for a while, so I thought you might need some refreshments,’ she said kindly.
We weren’t sure how to react. We weren’t used to people being nice to us, and we didn’t really trust it.
‘Thank you,’ we said.
The juice tasted really nice, and for a moment we forgot what was happening and just sat back and enjoyed it.
She explained that we would be going into a room where some very nice people would ask us some questions. Then she began to talk about the Poor Sisters of Nazareth, saying how wonderful she thought they were and how they must be completely selfless and dedicated to look after so many children in need. This was not what we needed to be hearing now. She has obviously not spent her childhood with them, I thought.
To be fair, she’d probably only made short visits to the convent, and the nuns would have put on a caring act. However, it showed in her face that she totally believed what she was saying, so we kept quiet. We didn’t want her to pass anything on to the nuns and land us in more trouble.
‘Sometimes when you’re young,’ she said, ‘you don’t realise that adults are just trying to help you. But have you really thought about where you would be now if the Sisters of Nazareth hadn’t taken you in and cared for you?’
Her words sent awful shivers through me, and Sinéad didn’t look too comfortable, either. Miss Reed clearly wasn’t about to change her view on just how wonderful the nuns were.
‘We will be going in soon,’ she continued. ‘You may be asked some questions, but don’t worry. Just answer clearly, and don’t let the nuns down. Show everyone what a good job they’ve done with you.’
Sinéad and I exchanged glances, wondering what planet this woman had come from. If the nuns had been so wonderful, then why did she think we kept running away?
The man in the suit returned and said that we could go in now. Miss Reed walked us into a strange-looking room with wooden panelling on the walls and large wooden benches. It reminded me of some sort of chapel or place of worship. She told us to sit down. Two men and a woman came in through another door, and she told us to stand up. The three people sat down at a high bench, facing the rest of the room.
‘Sit down,’ she said.
As we sat down, I really expected prayers to be said because when a priest enters a chapel everyone has to stand up in the same respectful way, but I couldn’t imagine why we would have come to this place to pray. It didn’t make any sense.
The men and woman in front of us began shuffling through a pile of papers. Every now and then they whispered to one another and looked in our direction. Eventually, one of the men gently asked me if the nuns were good to us. Miss Reed nudged me. I stood up.
‘Yes, sir,’ I said.
Miss Reed gave me a proud smile.
The man turned to Miss Reed and said that he’d a telegram from Mrs Reilly, who had wired to say that she had mental health problems and was unable to have her daughters living with her. He held the telegram up.
‘Yes,’ Miss Reed said, ‘I am aware of it.’
It took a few moments for this new development to sink in. Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the piece of paper in the man’s hand. Could it really be from our mother? Was it true that she still didn’t want us? If so, there would never be any point in trying to find her. I was devastated. Nobody wanted us. We were totally alone.
Beside me, I could hear Sinéad quietly sobbing. Noticing how upset we were, the men and woman asked Miss Reed if she would please approach the bench, where they talked in whispers for a while, giving us time to dry our eyes and get ourselves together.
I could hear snatches of their conversation. The woman was saying that we were obviously running away so often because we missed our mother. One of the men said that the situation had to change because the nuns couldn’t put up with us absconding from the convent every time their backs were turned, and something was said about the house that we’d broken into.
A song called ‘Nobody’s Child’ began to run through my head. Loretta had taught it to me, and all the girls in the convent knew it. It was one of my favourite songs, probably because I could relate to it completely. Even though it made me feel sad, I’d often find myself quietly singing it, and Loretta had sometimes asked me to sing it for her. Thinking about Loretta reminded me of how much I missed her. I felt so lonely and unsupported.
Worried that I might be missing something important, I forced my attention back to the whisperings. One of the men said something about remand, but I wasn’t sure what it meant. Then Miss Reed came back and sat with us. The men and woman stood up to leave the room, and Miss Reed nudged us and told us to stand up. We did as we were told.
It seemed to me that we had behaved very well. We’d done everything that Miss Reed had asked of us and given her no reason to complain to the nuns. It was obvious that she didn’t know we’d tried to get out of the toilet window, which was just as well. I still didn’t know what was happening and assumed that now we’d be going straight back to the convent.
She walked us back to her car. Before she started the engine, she glanced at her watch and said, ‘It’s past lunchtime. Are you girls hungry?’
‘Yes,’ Sinéad said.
I didn’t answer because I felt sick with worry about what the nuns would have planned for us when we got back. Food didn’t come into it, especially not convent food. I would rather miss lunch altogether.
‘Then we’ll stop off at a café and get you some lunch,’ she said, starting up the car.
Our eyes lit up at the thought of going to a café.
‘Just wait till the other girls hear about this,’ I said, my appetite returning.
We drove away from the town and stopped at a quiet café just outside Belfast. There were only three other customers eating there. Miss Reed showed us to a table, picking the one furthest away from the other customers.
‘This will do nicely,’ she said, pulling out a chair.
We sat down and got comfortable. I thought that perhaps Miss Reed wasn’t as bad as the nuns, but I still couldn’t trust her because she was definitely a friend of theirs.
A young man with a lovely smile came over and handed Miss Reed a menu. ‘Let me know when yous are ready to order,’ he said in a welcoming voice. He looked at me and his smile broadened. ‘Cheer up, the food in here is quite good,’ he joked.
I couldn’t tell if he was flirting with me or just felt sorry for me. Either way, it made me blush, and I could feel my face getting hot. I lowered my head, hoping that no one would notice.
By the time I’d raised it again, the boy had gone off to talk to someone at another table. After a bit of a discussion we all settled on cod, chips and beans. Miss Reed waved the boy back over to us. He wrote down our order on his pad.
‘Would ye and yer daughters like a drink with that?’ he asked. This time it was Miss Reed’s turn to blush. Sinéad and I grinned.
‘We’ll have a pot of tea for one and two Coca Colas. Thank you,’ she said.
He walked off to get the order, looking back to give me another smile. I smiled at him politely. The food was very good, and by the time we’d finished, there was nothing left on our plates.
As we drove away from the café, Miss Reed informed us that we wouldn’t be returning to Nazareth House. Instead, she said, we were going to St Joseph’s Training School in Middletown, near the border at Monaghan.
‘It’s a remand home for difficult children,’ she explained. ‘The magistrates at court this morning thought it would be the best thing for both of you, under the circumstances.’
I was sure I could detect a strange tone in her voice as she spoke now, and I realised that the meal had been meant to soften us up.
‘It’s quite a long journey, girls,’ Miss Read said. ‘So sit back and enjoy it.’
Speechless, Sinéad and I stared at each other. We had no idea of what to make of our situation. I thought that it was good, in a way, that we weren’t going back to Nazareth House, because it got us out of our punishment, but I wondered what my friends would think when we didn’t return. I knew that the nuns wouldn’t tell them anything. Would I see any of them again? Nothing seemed clear. All I knew was that everything was about to change for my sister and me, for better or for worse.
It wasn’t long before Sinéad was asleep. I dozed off a few times but not for long, as I kept waking up to see if we’d arrived at our new home yet. The journey took ages and the further we went, the more I began to worry about what lay ahead. Would we fit in with the other girls, and how ‘difficult’ were they really?
At one point Miss Reed turned around and saw how stressed and fidgety I’d become. ‘It’s not so bad at St Joseph’s, Frances,’ she said. ‘I’m there a lot, and I know the nuns and girls very well. I’m sure you’ll both fit in.’
It was easy for her to say, I thought. She wasn’t being told to live in the place. I also remembered what she’d said earlier about the nuns at Nazareth House, and she couldn’t have been more wrong about them.
And there are some lovely walks,’ she went on. ‘The countryside around here is beautiful.’
I was not convinced.
‘Here we are,’ she said as we pulled up to a pair of iron gates. A man appeared and opened them; he and Miss Reed smiled and waved at each other. She explained that he kept the grounds looking nice and did all the odd jobs. There wasn’t a job that he couldn’t do, apparently. I thought he looked friendly. I woke Sinéad up to tell her that we’d arrived. She looked better for having slept a bit.
As we approached a set of redbrick buildings, we passed some large colourful flowerbeds, a row of rhododendron bushes and a wide expanse of well-kept, bright-green lawn.
‘That’s the nuns’ part of the convent and the chapel,’ Miss Reed said as we drove past the first building.
We stopped outside a second building, which was about twenty-five metres further on, and got out of the car. Miss Reed led us through an archway. Here, she explained, was where the girls who smoked were allowed to have their nightly cigarette at ten to eight, as long as they’d behaved themselves. I found it hard to believe that the nuns actually let the girls smoke, but I kept quiet.
There were two girls working on the staircase as we entered the building. One was polishing the wooden banisters and the other was scrubbing the stairs, but my most memorable first impression of St Joseph’s was the distinctive smell of Jeyes Fluid. It was everywhere.
A group of girls stopped to say hello to Miss Reed and have a good look at the new arrivals. It felt very strange being new. At Nazareth House we’d always been the ones to show the new girls around.
‘Where’s the Reverend Mother?’ Miss Reed asked.
‘In her office,’ said the girl scrubbing the stairs.
Miss Reed apologised for having to walk over her hard work, and we kept to the edge of the stairs all the way up to the top of the building, where Miss Reed knocked on a large wooden door.
‘Enter,’ said a voice.
Another convent, another Mother Superior. My stomach turned over as Miss Reed opened the door.
‘Come on, girls,’ Miss Reed coaxed.
The Mother Superior stood up and shook Miss Reed’s hand. Staring hard at us over the top of her glasses, she said, ‘So you are the Reilly sisters, sent to us from Nazareth House in Belfast.’
‘Yes, Mother,’ we chorused.
She studied us for a moment, wearing an expression that made me feel like we were a couple of murderers or thieves.
‘Goodbye, girls,’ said Miss Reed, turning to go. ‘I’ll leave you in the good hands of Mother Petronella. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you the next time I visit.’
We said goodbye and she left.
Towering over us, Mother Petronella said, ‘I’ve heard all about both of you from the Mother Superior at Nazareth House, and I am not impressed. Your nonsense will not be tolerated here. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, Mother.’
‘Every girl is here because nowhere else can cope with her and the trouble she’s caused. We have a way of dealing with troublemakers like you. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, Mother.’ My knees began to shake.
Marching us out of her office, Mother Petronella called out to a nearby girl. ‘Sadie,’ she boomed. ‘I want you to show these girls around and let them know how we run things at St Joseph’s. Oh, and get them some suitable clothing. Their clothes will have to be sent back to Nazareth House.’
‘Yes, Mother,’ the girl said.
Sadie seemed friendly. She asked us a lot of questions about ourselves as she showed us around and introduced us to some of the other girls. Filling us in on the St Joseph’s routine and giving us information about every girl we met, she told us quite a few stories about how the nuns treated the girls.
‘They’re just frustrated old women,’ she said, ‘who get their kicks taking their unhappiness out on us.’
I liked her honesty. St Joseph’s sounded pretty similar to Nazareth House, except for the cigarette smoking and the fact that we had to go on a long walk every day accompanied by nuns. Plus, there was a netball team. Apparently, the team got to play against other schools and quite often won the local league cup. According to Sadie, the other schools hated the convent girls, and it wasn’t uncommon for fights to break out between them.
‘They think we’re scum because we’re in a remand home,’ said Sadie. ‘But not everyone gets the same break in life. Some are born with a silver spoon, and others with a load of shit.’
‘Yeh, we know what you mean,’ I said warmly.
Sinéad nodded in agreement. It felt good to make a friend so quickly. It would definitely help us to settle in. A little later we were given new clothes and allocated beds in a dormitory.
And so our new life started, hardly varying from the old one. When the bell went, we lined up. All the prayers and prayer times were the same. The food was just as disgusting. The place stank of Jeyes Fluid, and the nuns were weird, bitter and cruel.
There was a crucial difference, however. The girls at St Joseph’s weren’t abandoned orphans – they were rebels who didn’t fit in anywhere else and were ‘naughty’ by definition. This made for quite a different atmosphere to the one at Nazareth House. There was far less respect for the nuns here, although the friction between the girls was often worse. As yet, I didn’t know who and who not to trust, which put me in a position of weakness. But in time, and with Sadie’s help, I’d find out.
CHAPTER 24
Rebelling
I didn’t think that anywhere could be as bad as Nazareth House, but the regime at St Joseph’s was every bit as harsh and took just as much of a toll on me, both mentally and physically. Although I didn’t have Sister Thomas on my case every single day and I wasn’t being picked on just for being a Reilly, I received countless punishments and beatings during my time at St Joseph’s, and some of the other girls were completely terrifying. They hadn’t been imprisoned in a remand home because they were orphans o
r because their families were having difficulties; they were there for committing crimes and acts of violence – anything from shoplifting to GBH – or because their parents couldn’t cope with their antisocial behaviour. At the very least, they were disobedient and rebellious, but some of them were aggressive to the point of being disturbed.
I was constantly looking over my shoulder at St Joseph’s. Anything could happen. I’d be walking down a corridor and suddenly a girl would jump out of the shadows and attack me, for no reason. I’d wake up in the middle of the night with someone hovering over me. Even the smallest disagreement could develop into a shouting match or a fight. Bullying was rife. Violence was an everyday fact of life. For the first few weeks I was scared almost all of the time. It was hell. I could never relax. And even though Sister Thomas wasn’t physically near me, she haunted my waking hours and gave me nightmares.
Going for a walk every day was torture, lined up in long crocodile formation with two nuns at the head of the line and another two at the back. I hated trudging across fields in the rain, snow and hail, not knowing who was behind me or what they might do. Netball practice was vicious. If another girl bore you the slightest grudge, you’d get a ball in the face or several sharp kicks when the nun on duty wasn’t looking. Even your most meagre possessions were stolen or broken by other girls.
Surrounded by hard, unruly teenagers, I quickly toughened up. I had to. To survive at St Joseph’s, you had to rebel along with the others, and anyway, it was impossible not to get sucked in by the defiant atmosphere. As the months passed, I stopped caring about the nuns and their stupid rules. I was disrespectful and answered them back, even when I knew that to do so would result in a vicious punishment. It was partly my age – I was fast approaching adolescence – and I think that in many ways I was taking out my anger towards the Nazareth House nuns on the nuns at St Joseph’s, who were from a similar order and just as cruel and oppressive. Plus, you got respect from the other remand-home girls if you were seen to be answering the nuns back. Gradually, I began to be accepted by some of them.
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