We’d had our moment of glory and now there was a price to pay. But even though I was beaten practically into oblivion later in the day, I still thought it had been worth it.
CHAPTER 25
The Top Window
The night before my best friend, Patsy, was released she gave me her address in Derry.
‘If ye ever get away, Frances, try and make your way to Derry and find me. I’ll help you out and so will my friends, I promise,’ she said.
It was obvious that she meant it, and I hugged her. I already had another idea for an escape. This time, whoever came with me would have to be as small as I was. We’d also need the help of everyone in the dormitory, although that wouldn’t be a problem because whenever anyone ran away, everyone would be rooting for them to succeed, no matter who they were. No one wanted the nuns and police to win.
That night, instead of telling stories, I talked about my new plan. I intended to climb through the window in the washroom next to the dormitory, which was the only window without bars. It was tiny, but I was sure that I’d be able to force myself through the gap. The only other person who might fit was Mary Steel. I wouldn’t have picked Mary if I’d been going any other way. We weren’t enemies, but we weren’t exactly friends either. But Mary wanted to go even before she’d heard the whole plan, and she began to get really excited.
I explained that after lights out, when there were no nuns about, we’d take the sheets off our beds and tie them tightly together. They would have to be strong enough to take our weight and long enough to reach the laundry roof. Once we were safely on the roof, the sheets would be pulled back in and the beds made again. Mary’s and my beds would have to look as if we were asleep in them; that way, the nuns wouldn’t know that we’d gone until the bell went for morning prayers. By the time the police were informed, we’d be miles away from the convent.
We whispered about the plan late into the evening, and the more we discussed it, the more we liked it. It hadn’t been tried before, and one of its main advantages was that we’d be going at night. We decided to go the following evening. I tried to sleep so that I was rested for the next day, but I found it hard to get settled now that freedom was a possibility again. I probably should have been concerned for my safety because the window was four floors up, but it didn’t even enter my head. Instead, my brain whirred with the hope of being free at last.
The next day dragged along slowly, but finally, it was bedtime. Everyone was excited because if the plan worked, they’d know that they’d all played a part in it. Also, they were amused by the thought of the nuns puzzling over how it had been done.
We yawned and pretended to be tired as Sister Mary said, ‘Lights out. Now straight to sleep, you lot.’
‘Goodnight, Sister,’ we said.
After a few minutes, when we were sure the coast was clear, we jumped out of bed.
‘Quiet, everyone! We’re never going to get away with this if we’re not as quiet as mice,’ I whispered.
Mary and I got dressed while the others crept around taking the sheets off their beds and tying them together with tight knots. Soon the girls were in a sort of tug-of-war across the dormitory, testing the rope they’d made for strength.
We all moved off to the washroom and Mary opened the window using a window pole. A couple of girls climbed up on the sinks, and a third girl climbed up on their shoulders. The rope of sheets was passed up, and they soon had it secured. After giving it a few good tugs, we agreed that it was strong enough to hold us, and we threw it out of the window. As it fell, I experienced a rush of adrenaline. Was I finally going to get away for good this time?
Suddenly, Mary was treating me like her best friend, but I didn’t mind too much. Once we’d got out, we’d have to rely on each other totally. We climbed up onto the sink, and the others helped us to get into a position where we could begin to squeeze through the tiny gap. I went first. I struggled for a while, hanging half out and half in, but I wasn’t going to give up.
‘Ye can do it, Frances,’ someone whispered.
Grabbing on to the sheets, I gripped them tightly and pulled myself through the window, scraping my face on the way. It really stung, but I was outside now, hanging on to the sheets. Looking down to see how far I had to go, I noticed that the rope didn’t reach all the way to the laundry roof. There was nothing for it but to jump. First I lowered myself to the bottom, one hand at a time, and then, taking a deep breath, I let go. I came down hard, but I was OK.
Looking up, I saw Mary’s legs dangling out of the window. Relieved that she’d already done the hardest bit, I willed her to go on. I decided not to tell her about the drop at the end of the sheets until she was near the bottom, but then she got stuck, and I heard her telling the others that she couldn’t go any further. I began to think that I might be going over the wall on my own.
‘You can do it, Mary,’ I found myself saying over and over again.
Then she was out of the window, hanging on to the sheets. The other girls waved at me as she edged her way down the rope.
‘Good, she’s done it,’ I said, waving back.
As she neared the end of the sheets, I thought that now would be a good time to tell her about the jump, before she noticed it and freaked out. ‘Mary! Ye’ll have to jump soon. It’s not as bad as it looks.’
She looked down. ‘It’s too far, Frances! I’ll break my legs!’
‘Ye’ll be OK. I managed it.’
‘I can’t!’
‘Well, ye can’t go back up, can ye? Mary, trust me. Just let yerself drop and we can get out of here. Everyone’s looking at ye. Come on now, just jump.’
It was a leap of faith. She let go and landed with a thud on the roof.
‘Are ye OK?’ I asked.
‘Yeah, I think so,’ she said, getting to her feet.
The sheets disappeared quickly up the wall and in through the window. I pictured the others untying them and making the beds up, and I wondered if they’d remember to make it look as though Mary and I were still in bed. Of course they would, I reassured myself. They weren’t about to let us get caught over something as crucial as that.
Our ordeal wasn’t over yet, though. Next we had to get off the laundry roof and scale down some drainpipes. I went first, sliding slowly down the sloping roof until my foot reached the guttering. Using it to support my weight, I carefully shifted onto my front. Then I reached down and grabbed hold of a large square piece of iron on the top of the drainpipe. Keeping a tight grip on it, I swung down and clung on to the drainpipe, ready to make my descent.
Now Mary was edging her way down towards me. Gripping the drainpipe with my thighs, I guided her feet on to the guttering and talked her through turning her body around. Then I began to climb down the pipe, which was rusty in places and slimy in others, so it was hard to keep a grip. At one point it occurred to me that I must be totally nuts to be doing this, but finally, I got to the bottom. My arms and legs were scratched, and I was shaking with fear, but at least I’d reached the ground.
‘Oh my God!’ said Mary, and I looked up to see what was going on. Her legs had slipped away from the pipe and she was dangling precariously.
‘Ye’re doing great,’ I said. ‘Ye haven’t far to go now.’
She regained her grip and made it down. We waited for a moment to catch our breath and make sure that there weren’t any nuns around. Outside the laundry room, we found a large wicker basket and carried it over to the wall to use as a step. Soon we were over the wall and sprinting through the field on the other side.
I ran faster than I’d ever run before. Mary kept pace with me, and we didn’t speak for a while. Eventually, we came out onto a road. For about twenty minutes there was no sign of traffic. Then we heard a car engine. I looked back into the bright glare of headlights, certain that it was a police car, but it wasn’t. Without thinking, I stuck out my thumb. The car moved past us and then came to a stop. Mary gave me a nervous look as we approached the car window.
The window rolled open, and a man asked, ‘Where are ye going, girls?’
‘Derry,’ I said.
‘I can’t take ye all the way, but I can take ye as far as Antrim. Jump in.’
We could hardly believe our luck. Now we could relax a bit. The car pulled off, carrying us far away from the remand home. The driver seemed glad of the company and asked us what we were doing so far away from home, obviously assuming that we came from Derry. I spun a tale about how we’d travelled down in a car, with a couple of boys we knew. I said that we’d just come along for a day out, but after an argument the boys had driven off without us. He seemed to believe me and said we should be careful about who we picked as friends. I agreed and said that we would in future.
The journey to Antrim was about sixty miles, and the further we went, the more relaxed we became. We chatted to the driver most of the way, and the time seemed to pass really quickly. He told us that if he’d had the time, he’d have taken us all the way to Derry, but someone was expecting him.
‘Sure, we’ll be fine,’ I said, ‘and we’re really grateful to get as far as Antrim.’
He dropped us off on the road to Derry, and we said goodbye and thanked him. It was cold standing on the side of the road, so we decided to walk to keep ourselves warm. We walked and ran for miles. Cars and trucks went past, but none of them stopped. We kept looking at the road signs to see how far we’d gone.
It was almost dawn before we got another lift. By now we had no idea where we were. A truck driver pulled over and said he was going as far as Newtownstewart. We climbed into the warm truck and thanked him for stopping. He didn’t talk much, which pleased us because we where getting tired and appreciated the rest. It was getting light now, and we were worried that he might notice our remand-home clothes, but he didn’t say anything. I liked sitting high up in the truck, looking down at everything along the road. When we arrived at Newtownstewart, he said we had about thirty miles left to Derry. We jumped out, said goodbye, thanked him and waved him off.
We were pleased to have come this far but were aware of how careful we still had to be. The morning bell would have rung by now, and the nuns would know that we’d gone, so we needed to be on the lookout for the police. Tired, hungry and thirsty, we got paranoid about every car we heard and ducked in and out of people’s gardens. The milkman had been, so we helped ourselves to a couple of bottles from the doorsteps.
After thumbing for about an hour, a lorry pulled over, and the driver said he could take us all the way to Derry. He asked a lot of questions, and we gave a lot of answers, hoping to satisfy his curiosity. I thought about what would be happening at St Joseph’s. The nuns would be wondering how we could possibly have got out. They prided themselves that runaway girls were always caught, so right now they’d be going mental. I couldn’t help the smug smile that broke out on my face. It was nice to get one over on the nuns, especially after the way they’d treated us. When we got to Derry, the man asked us where we were going. Mary said the Cragan Estate.
‘Sure, I’ll drop ye off there,’ he said.
As we walked through the Cragan Estate, we passed groups of children on their way to school. We didn’t know which uniform Patsy’s would be, so every now and then we stopped someone to ask if they knew her. Eventually, a girl said that she did. I asked if she could pass on a message, explaining that we were friends of Patsy and that we’d come a long way to see her. She told her friends that she’d catch them up and then turned back to me.
‘Were ye in that remand home with Patsy?’ she whispered, covering her mouth as if afraid that someone would lip-read her words.
I instinctively liked her and trusted her enough to tell her the truth, so I admitted that we needed to see Patsy soon, before the police spotted us.
‘Come with me,’ she said, leading us to a children’s park that was set back from the road. ‘Stay here till I get back with Patsy, and don’t worry, I’ll not be telling anyone else ye’re here.’ She told us her name was Marie and ran off.
‘Do ye think we can trust her?’ Mary asked.
‘I think she’s all right. Anyway, we don’t have a choice if we want to find Patsy,’ I said. ‘Everything’s gone OK up till now, so let’s stay positive.’
We waited in the park for about an hour and a half and were just starting to worry when Marie arrived back with Patsy.
‘I thought I was never going to see ye again, Frances!’ Patsy said, hugging me. ‘I can’t believe ye’ve done it. Ye’re here!’
She wanted to know all about how we’d escaped, so we sat on a bench and went through our story. Patsy couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and Marie listened open-mouthed. When we’d finished, she asked Patsy if we were for real. Patsy gave a bit of a laugh and told her that I definitely was. I thanked her for going to find Patsy.
‘That’s OK. Now we get to bunk off school for the day,’ she said, in a very matter-of-fact way.
Patsy and Marie went off to the shop and returned with sweets and crisps for all of us. Then we hung around the park for a while, talking and laughing. I was free, happier than I’d ever been. I kept thinking about how the nuns’ faces would have looked when they realised that we’d gone. I imagined them patting my padded bed as they tried to wake me in the morning.
‘We’ll get ye some different clothes at dinnertime,’ Patsy said.
In the meantime we didn’t mind hanging around the park. It was so much better than being at the remand home. And, good as her word, Patsy came back at around one with Marie, carrying some bags of clothes. She’d asked all her friends to sneak whatever they could out of their bedrooms, without their mums noticing.
‘There should be something in here that will fit yous,’ she said. We took the clothes out of the bags. They were really nice, much nicer than anything I’d ever worn before. I slipped a pair of jeans on under my dress. They fitted perfectly, and Patsy said they looked great. Mary found a pair of trousers that she really liked, and Patsy and Marie stood guard as we put on jumpers. Patsy handed me a little denim jacket, and Mary picked out a blue anorak. In our new outfits we no longer looked like runaways, just like any other girls of our age.
Patsy fixed my long, black hair into a loose plait to give me a different look and said that we could walk around with her and her mates after school to figure out where to hide out. I was sure that the police wouldn’t be able to find me now. My new look gave me a confidence that I’d never felt before.
When school was over, we met up with some more of Patsy’s friends and went to a café for chips, which tasted great. The conversation turned to where we could hide out. Everyone seemed much more concerned about us than about getting into trouble themselves. I appreciated that they were putting themselves out for us and listened carefully to what they had to say. They were all really nice, genuine people.
We needed somewhere warm and safe to spend the night. After a lot of debate it was decided that the best solution would be to hide in the local Catholic church. If we managed to conceal ourselves while the priest locked up for the night, we’d be able to come out and sleep on the benches after he’d gone. Patsy’s friends would take it in turns to bunk off school and bring us food every morning – whatever they could pinch from their homes. It sounded like a good plan, until we could come up with a better one. We didn’t want to be walking around in the cold all night, and Patsy and her friends had done more than enough to help already.
The conversation turned to one of Patsy’s friends, whom they’d nicknamed Ozzy. Apparently, he’d escaped from Borstal about two years before and so far hadn’t been caught. He stayed in a different place each night. They hadn’t seen him for a few days, but they would try to find him the following day.
‘He’s a good bloke, and he’ll help if he can. He knows Bernadette Devlin, the MP,’ Patsy said. ‘She helped him out a few times and now they’re really good friends.’
A few hours later Mary and I were hiding behind a pillar in the church, listening to
the priest shuffle about in the sacristy. We didn’t have long to wait before he left. The lights went out, the door banged shut, and the key turned in the lock. It felt strange and spooky to be there alone at night. We lay down on some benches and fell asleep, exhausted.
We woke early, feeling stiff and uncomfortable, with no idea of what time it was or when the priest was going to turn up again. We had a good look around for the best place to hide, which turned out to be under the altar. There was plenty of space, and the altar cloth would conceal us. So we crawled under the cloth, and some time later we heard the church door being unlocked. We stayed still and kept quiet, listening to the sound of footsteps. I guessed that there must be quite a few people in the church.
I stifled a laugh when Mary pulled a cold bag of chips from her anorak pocket and started eating them.
‘I’m starving,’ she whispered.
It was such a strange and funny sight that I had to cover my mouth with my hand to stop myself laughing. She handed me a chip, and I decided that I might as well join her in some breakfast.
The organ started up, and a few moments later we saw the priest’s feet poking under the altar cloth. Mass had begun. We stayed as quiet as we could but carried on eating the cold chips. At one point I wanted to sneeze and had to pinch my nose, which of course set us off again. It took all our energy not to roll around laughing. We were utterly relieved when Mass finished and the priest returned to the sacristy.
‘We’ll have to sneak out soon – when everyone’s gone – and sit on one of the benches,’ I said. I was starting to feel claustrophobic.
We heard our names being whispered. Peeping out from under the cloth, we were pleased to see one of Patsy’s friends. We crawled out from under the altar, went outside and set upon the sandwiches that she’d brought with her.
We soon got into a rhythm. During the day we hung out with Patsy and her friends; by night we hid in the church. It was so exhilarating to be free at last, far away from the bells and the nuns and the constant threat of violence. It felt amazing to do what we liked and go where we wanted. Then one night Patsy took us to meet Ozzy. I was looking forward to meeting him because she’d talked about him a lot and with great fondness. He was sitting on the steps leading up to a big council block.
Suffer The Little Children Page 24