Hide Her Name

by Nadine Dorries

  Although the call had been short and sweet, Kitty felt better for having heard Maura’s voice.

  Kitty looked round for Nellie and saw that she was outside the shop, talking to a girl who had rested her bike up against the post-office window. Kitty hurried outside to join them.

  This, Kitty learnt, was Rita, who was Nellie’s cousin, after a fashion, whose father owned the local grocer’s.

  Rita seemed very excited to see them.

  ‘Do ye not have to go to school while ye are here? No? How lucky are ye? I would die not to go to school. Look what the witches did to me today.’

  Rita held out her hands. Kitty and Nellie gasped in horror to see the red weals across her palms.

  ‘That looks horrible. How did you get those?’ asked Nellie.

  ‘It was the dreaded catechisms this morning,’ explained Rita. ‘Oh God, I tried everything to stop Mammy sending me to school, but what can I do? The shop is across the road from the school. I have no chance. I knew we would be tested this morning and I knew I would get one wrong. I got the stick across my hand all right.

  ‘I’m out now because I offered to run to the shop to get the Connemara donkey her cigs. I couldn’t stand having me hands smacked with the stick again. She lifts it up so high and brings it down so hard, so she does.’

  Kitty was horrified. They had the cane at her school but only the really bad lads got it and then just across their backsides with their trousers on. Never on bare skin.

  ‘Who is it you call the Connemara donkey?’ Kitty asked.

  ‘Her name is Miss O’Shea, she’s from Connemara and she looks like a donkey,’ said Rita. ‘Will ye get on Jacko, both of ye, and meet me in the village after we finish school one day? Everyone will be beside themselves when I tell them that ye are back, Nellie, so they will. I can’t wait to tell them, now. Sure makes a nice change for me to be first in the class for once.’ Rita roared with laughter.

  Kitty already liked Rita. How could anyone have their hands caned and then laugh as much as Rita, only minutes later?

  ‘You need to be ahead on more than village gossip to stop Miss O’Shea thwacking your hands,’ said Nellie, looking worried.

  Rita jumped on her bike, shouting, ‘See you outside the gates soon, or come to the shop.’ She cycled back across the road to the school, holding the handlebars very carefully.

  Kitty and Nellie looked at each other. ‘Well, I won’t be complaining next time Sister Evangelista gives out to me,’ said Kitty, ‘and who is this poor Jacko we have to jump on?’

  ‘He’s the donkey,’ laughed Nellie. ‘I will make the introduction when I find him. Sometimes I have to run up the hill and look down at the farm. Usually, I can spot his ears, sticking up in the oat field. He is the naughtiest mule ever. He never does anything he is told. Sometimes he likes the walk to Bangornevin, but quite often he will just stand in the middle of the road and refuse to move. He really is the most stubborn animal.’

  Kathleen walked out of the post office with the closest thing to steam coming out of her ears.

  ‘Mary and Joseph, save me, that woman is the end. She asks so many nosy questions, I swear to God it must be against the law to have a woman so interfering running the post office.’

  ‘Ah, sure, she’s very funny,’ Kitty replied, already regarding Bangornevin as though it were a fascinating tapestry.

  But she knew this much, she was already in love.

  The rushing sound of the river was both familiar and intoxicating, as though it called to her. Deep inside, she felt as though she belonged here, and yet she had only just arrived.

  The Deane Farm

  Ballymara

  County Mayo

  Dear Mammy and Daddy,

  I am so sorry it was so quick on the phone. I had no idea those beeps were coming. We bought airmail paper in the post office so that I can write everything down so that you know what is happening.

  I hope you are doing well at home. It feels like weeks already since I saw you. So much has happened that I am bursting to write and tell you all about it.

  I am writing this sitting on my own bed, which has the most lovely lace bedspread you have ever seen, Mammy.

  There is a press in the room and I have all my own drawers. I have a beautiful lamp next to my bed with the prettiest lampshade. On the top of the press I have laid out all of my new toiletries like ornaments. They look so nice, Mammy, and the new soap smells like flowers when it is wet. I cupped it in my hands and took it to Maeve to smell when I used it this morning and she said it was just the most beautiful soap she had ever smelt, just like fresh lavender.

  I don’t like to use the hand cream because I want to save it for special, but I took the pot into the kitchen and rubbed some into Maeve’s hands. She works so hard, Mammy, her hands are so rough. She just loved it and she said, hang on now whilst I sit in the chair and enjoy this. Everyone laughed because she closed her eyes and put her head back and said, oh my God, aren’t I just one of the fancy ladies now, I’ll not be milking the cow any more, so I won’t, and Uncle Liam said you will have Bella getting used to those soft hands now, Maeve, be careful or she won’t want ye to be milking her any more when Kitty goes home and your hands go back to being as rough as a tinker’s arse.

  Everyone laughed so much. Everyone laughs all the time.

  You would really like Maeve, Mammy.

  No one seems to work here, Daddy. I mean they do, Uncle Liam works the fields, but they are his fields. There are no men knocking on in the morning and there doesn’t seem to be anywhere anyone goes to work. I asked Maeve where the docks were and she said there weren’t any and that everyone looks after the land and each other. That’s what they do for work.

  We are going to the market in Castlefeale where Uncle Liam will sell his calves and lambs, and Maeve is taking her jam from last summer. She says those who haven’t made enough last year, because they were lazy, will be desperate to buy now because they will be running out.

  Kathleen took us to visit her relatives today and every time we visited someone’s house, we left with a present. We had to carry onions and all sorts of things home with us afterwards including a new yard brush called a scoodoo.

  It made me laugh because it is made out of twigs, but I didn’t laugh when I saw Maeve brushing the cow shed out because it really works.

  All the relatives seem very nice and I met one of Nellie’s cousins whose name is Rita. I would hate to be in school here because if you forget your catechisms, you get hit over the hand with a stick. Can you imagine that?

  I hope everyone is being good at home and, Angela, you make sure you help Mammy with everything until I am back, which won’t be long.

  Mammy, my sickness is much better. I think I will be well enough to return home very soon indeed. If Nana Kathleen wants to stay with Nellie, I am sure Uncle Liam will take me to the boat in Dublin, if you or Da meet me. I know how the boat works now and wouldn’t be afraid of travelling on my own.

  It is just fabulous and because it is so, I can’t wait to get back and tell you all about it.

  The address at the top is all you will need to write back to me.

  Nellie sends her love and asks can you let Jerry and Alice know that she does.

  I will see you soon. Two weeks at the absolute most, I would imagine.

  Don’t be crying yourself to sleep at night, now, Angela, because you and the girls are missing me so much. Lads, be really good for Mammy and I will use the ten shillings Uncle Liam gave me to bring you all back a lovely present.

  Lots of love,

  Miss Kitty Bernadette Doherty

  Kitty wrote her full name. It made her feel like a lady, not a child, and if she wasn’t supposed to write the name Bernadette, why had she been given it as her middle name? As far as Kitty was concerned, everyone should use their middle name.

  ‘What’s your middle name, Nellie?’ Kitty asked as she clicked the top back on the fountain pen Maeve had lent to her.

  Nel
lie looked up out of her book as she spoke. ‘Ethelburga, but don’t tell anyone. I would hate anyone to know that. I don’t know what Nana Kathleen thought she was doing at the time.’

  That night, when the girls were preparing for bed, they noticed two ladies arrive at the front door. One was a cousin, Julia, but Nellie had no idea who the other woman was.

  ‘I wonder what they have come to gossip about?’ whispered Nellie to Kitty as they heard the earnest muttering of conversation and the kettle being placed on the fire.

  ‘I don’t know, but it sounds like a serious chinwag. The kind Peggy would be good at.’

  They both laughed at the mention of gossip merchant Peggy.

  Ten minutes later, the fresh air knocked them both flat out, and they were fast asleep.

  ‘Thanks for driving out all this way to Ballymara,’ said Kathleen to her visitor, Rosie O’Grady. Rosie was spending the night with Julia, Kathleen’s sister, and was related by marriage to Julia’s husband. She had travelled to Bangornevin following a telephone call from Julia to let her know her help was urgently needed.

  No facts were forthcoming. None were needed and Rosie jumped into her car and travelled to Bangornevein as soon as she had finished work as the matron midwife at the hospital in Dublin.

  Maeve knew all about Kitty’s pregnancy and was helping Kathleen to find a solution. She also knew it was the priest’s doing but she and Kathleen had made the decision no one else in Ireland would be told.

  ‘Sure, we heard the news about the murder over here and it was in the paper. Such a scandal, it was. There are so many from Mayo in Liverpool, Kathleen, anything that happens there is news here, too. The only thing anyone has of any interest out here on the west coast is gossip.’

  ‘Aye, Maeve, I know, but I had to tell ye. I have brought the child under your roof. Ye needed to know.’

  ‘It is a problem for both of us now, Kathleen, we will find a way. The child has changed in just a day and it is a grand thing to see. Let’s just leave her to enjoy what is left of her childhood whilst she can and not mention anything to her just yet, eh?’

  ‘Aye, we won’t. I couldn’t agree more. As true as God, her mammy would never believe how much she has altered, so she wouldn’t.’

  Once they were sitting down with a cup of tea, Kathleen spoke. She was close to Rosie who had been through troubles of her own in the past.

  Rosie had been born and brought up in Dublin, and had trained as a nurse before she married and settled in Roscommon, where her husband was a dairy farmer.

  There were two types of farming men in Ireland.

  Gentle family men, who did well at school, obtained the leaving certificate and put their brains to good use in developing their farms.

  And there were those who ruled their homes and their farms with their fists.

  The job of a woman who married a farmer was to ensure she chose the former.

  Those who weren’t so attractive and didn’t quite have the freedom to choose in the way others did often ended up with the latter.

  Rosie had used both her looks and her brains to make her match.

  She was also the head of midwifery at the hospital in Dublin and sat on the midwifery council for Ireland.

  ‘Has Julia explained everything to ye?’ asked Kathleen to break the silence, once the pleasantries had been exchanged.

  ‘Yes, she has,’ said Rosie. ‘Although, I have to ask, why has she been brought over here? Every day the boat is full of girls running from Dublin to Liverpool for just this reason. Why can’t it be sorted out in Liverpool, for goodness’ sake?’

  Kathleen felt herself flaring up inside, but remained calm. She knew that she was on a shorter fuse than usual.

  ‘Well, Rosie, I am afraid to say that the poor girl was taken advantage of by a man who should have known better. It is not her fault she is pregnant. She comes from a good Irish Catholic family. I have brought her here to try to save the family from the shame and the heartache.’

  Rosie studied Kathleen over her glasses. It was obvious she didn’t believe the story. Rosie might have been kindly, but she was no fool.

  This was going to be harder than Kathleen had imagined. How could she tell Rosie, once Kitty began to show, that people would suspect Kitty’s father of having murdered the priest? That a baby, growing in her belly, would provide a timeline straight back to the worst night of their lives. That police had never ceased asking questions every day since and were convinced the answer to the murder lay somewhere in the four streets. Like a dog with a bone, they just weren’t letting go.

  ‘How do ye know the child didn’t lead him on?’

  Rosie’s words made Kathleen want to grab her by her scrawny neck and throw her out through the front door.

  Instead, she curbed her exasperation.

  ‘Because she is an innocent child and we know he took advantage when she was ill and in her hospital bed.’

  As soon as Kathleen spoke the words, she wished she hadn’t. She knew how incredible they sounded. Who would believe what had happened to Kitty, unless they had witnessed the priest going about his filthy work? She had seen him with her own eyes when she had walked into Kitty’s bedroom at home and heard the girl pleading with him to stop.

  Kathleen suddenly felt desperate. It appeared as though someone that she had hoped would provide guidance wasn’t going to be much help at all.

  ‘Look, Rosie,’ said Julia, suddenly butting in, ‘the reasons why and how the child got pregnant are none of our business now, are they? We were hoping you might have some useful suggestions, with you being so highly qualified and in the know, with regard to midwifery and all that. The problem is that no one in Liverpool, or here for that matter, must know the girl is pregnant. She has to have this child in deadly secret, Rosie, and we need your help.’

  Maeve took the compacted straw plug from the top of the dark brown bottle and filled sherry glasses with the thick, deep purple damson wine that Kathleen and the girls had carried home earlier that day.

  Rosie was a woman with a tough professional exterior but she was as soft as butter inside.

  ‘I have no idea why this all has to be kept so quiet but it is not my business if the poor child has to be birthed in secret,’ said Rosie, lifting up her glass.

  ‘I am assuming this has something to do with the fact that you don’t want to bring shame on this village or your own streets in Liverpool?

  ‘I find that so sad, Kathleen. We have to change the way girls and women are regarded and treated in Ireland and if we keep hiding these girls away, nothing will ever alter. In Liverpool and across in America, women have it so much better than the poor girls here. I am assuming that what you are asking me to do is to place her into the mother and baby home in the Abbey near Galway?’

  ‘I know it exists,’ said Kathleen, ‘but I have no notion how it works and to be sure, it had never crossed my mind that it would be possible.’

  Rosie carefully placed her glass down on the table and twirled the stem around between her fingers. She remained silent as she thought. Something was obviously bothering her.

  The peat logs on the fire slipped and sent a shower of sparks flying into the room, distracting Rosie who then spoke directly to Kathleen.

  ‘There is one attached to a laundry run by the holy sisters. She can have her baby in secret there. I can deliver it when her time is due and then the child could be adopted.’

  Kathleen let out a huge sigh. There were answers. They were getting there.

  Rosie wasn’t just offering suggestions, as they had hoped, she was providing a solution.

  ‘Who would adopt it?’ asked Kathleen.

  ‘Well, she wouldn’t be the first Irish girl to be in this predicament, Kathleen, despite the numbers filling the boat to Liverpool. The children are adopted by American parents only, so that the child never makes contact with any of the mother’s family in the future. The nuns who run the mother and baby home take over a thousand American dollars from t
he American parents and a hundred and fifty pounds from you, for her keep. Kitty will be placed in the home and work for the sisters until the baby is born and then, as soon as her confinement is over, you can collect her, once you pay the hundred and fifty pounds.’

  ‘One thousand American dollars.’ Kathleen almost choked on her damson wine. ‘My God, the nuns are making a profit out of unwanted pregnancies. Holy Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I have heard it all now.’

  ‘Do ye have a better plan?’ asked Rosie, slightly offended that Kathleen wasn’t more grateful. “Because if you do, I for one would prefer it. I have never delivered a girl in any of those homes and I have sworn, I never would. I couldn’t be more against them and all they stand for. Call me a feminist or any other insulting term you may wish but I think a pregnancy is nothing to be ashamed of.’

  Rosie was suspicious, knowing that there was more to this girl’s pregnancy than they were letting on. But that wasn’t her business.

  They had a distance to travel between here and what Rosie was proposing, but Kathleen could see it was an answer they had never considered. They just needed a hundred and fifty pounds and they would all be safe.

  ‘How do we go about organizing this and having a look to see if it is the right thing to do, Rosie?’ said Maeve, as she stood and refilled Rosie’s glass.

  ‘You will need a priest,’ said Rosie.

  We had a priest, thought Kathleen. It was a priest that was the problem.

  ‘You can gain access to the home only if a priest either takes you, or sends a letter.’

  ‘Can you not recommend her to the home, Rosie? You being a midwife and all?’ said Julia. ‘If ye have agreed to deliver the baby, surely they will accept a girl from ye?’

  Rosie looked very uncomfortable and squirmed slightly in her seat.

  She had never delivered a child in the Abbey and never wanted to. She was a hospital matron who was known for fighting the Irish authorities and their dated and repressive attitude towards women. By delivering a child in the Abbey, she was condoning the practice of humiliation and suppression. But how could she refuse what was in effect a request from Julia? God knew, Rosie had seen often enough how tough life could be for a single mother.