All throughout May and June, she’d prayed to be delivered from the convent, but no opportunity presented itself. Sister Ruth stood guard like a bulldog over the laundry. An escape like Nora’s was out of the question. Since her fall from the roof, Lea seemed scattered and confused. The trust between them had dwindled. The window was barred, so there was no chance to escape from the roof anyway. She didn’t want to give up hope; if she did, she feared she would lose her sanity. She understood that fear was a certainty, as sure as her heartbeat.
Teagan opened her eyes. The light of dawn filtered in the window. She looked at the foot of her bed. Sister Anne was gone. Was she ever there? She inspected the blanket covering her feet. Nora and Lea slept peacefully in their beds, their dreams undisturbed by a night visitor. She threw off the covers and walked to the spot. Nothing—no wax, no disturbance of any kind, indicated that the Mother Superior had been there.
However, the scent of smoke, as if a candle had been extinguished, lingered in the air. The door to the garret stood ajar. Teagan scurried to it and looked down the hall. All was normal in the unfolding dawn, but for a slight haze, perhaps the smoky drift from a smoldering wick.
* * *
By early August, the Magdalens were sweltering in the laundry again. The bubbling washers and electric dryers magnified the summer heat and humidity. Teagan wondered whether Nora would make it through the remaining few weeks until her delivery date. The child grew inside her, puffing her out so much that the nuns put her on “light work,” which meant standing next to the equipment to make sure all the cycles were completed. Sarah was in charge of transferring the loads between machines, while Nora, hefting her swollen belly with her hands, supervised.
One afternoon, Nora slumped against a washer. Teagan and Sister Ruth rushed to her.
“I’m going to have the baby,” Nora panted. The color drained from her face; sweat poured from her forehead.
“Nonsense,” Sister Ruth said. The nun grabbed Nora’s left arm and held on, trying to steady her. She glared at Teagan. “Get back to your work!”
Teagan stood firm. “She’s my friend, and I want to help.”
“It’s me own baby, and I can bloody well tell when it’s coming.” Nora attempted to step away from the washer, but her legs went out from under her instead. Sister Ruth held on to Nora’s left arm while Teagan caught the right. It took both of them to lift her up.
Nora shook her head as if to shake off an ache. “See, what did I tell you?”
“You’re not due,” Sister Ruth said. She frowned, but then called out to Sarah. “Tell Sister Mary-Elizabeth to call for the doctor.”
Soon, Sisters Mary-Elizabeth and Rose were in the laundry along with a few other nuns, whom Teagan believed must have come over from the adjoining orphanage.
One, whom Sister Ruth called Sister Immaculata, a nun with prominent dark eyebrows and piercing blue eyes, examined Nora while Betty brought over a chair. Nora thanked her and sat, looking like a lost child, but pleased with all the attention showered upon her.
Sister Immaculata poked Nora’s stomach with her fingers and then moved them under her distended belly. The Sister put her hand on Nora’s forehead. “Tsk-tsk.” She nodded her head and proclaimed, “I would say this penitent needs medical attention. She may be having the baby.”
The nuns lifted Nora from the chair and whisked her away. Teagan had no time to wish her luck or say goodbye. She was left standing by the chair as her friend, caught in a whir of black habits, disappeared out the door.
Nora had escaped again, but this time under the watchful eye of the nuns. Teagan wasn’t sure when Nora would be back—if ever—or what would happen to the baby. She walked with measured steps toward the basin where she had been working. After more than a year of penance, the time to leave The Sisters of the Holy Redemption had come, no matter the cost.
* * *
Nora had escaped the first time in a delivery van. Since Father Conry’s last visit, Teagan had paid careful attention to small details, including delivery schedules and the nuns’ routines. Now that she was back in the laundry, she kept mental notes but didn’t share them with anyone. It became increasingly clear that Nora’s escape had been a single instance of good fortune. Teagan had no plans to escape by that means. Sister Ruth, even the other Magdalens, were more aware now. Teagan had formulated a new scheme and the time had come to put it in action, but she needed the aid of another person, a girl who might have access to, or at least the knowledge of what she sought. Lea knew where to find everything in Mr. Roche’s office.
She got her chance two days after Nora had been taken away. Rain poured upon the convent after vespers. The messy night made her plan even more plausible. Who would think a Magdalen would try to escape on a night like this? The rain would provide good cover.
After going to the toilet, she spotted Lea standing in front of the garret window before lights-out. The other Magdalens were getting ready for bed. Lightning flared outside, illuminating the room and outlining her friend’s form in an eerie white flash. She stole up behind Lea, attempting to ascertain what had captured the girl’s attention.
“Look.” Lea pointed to the plot in the southwest corner where the children had been buried. “They’re out tonight.” She clapped her hands. “Enjoying the weather.”
Teagan squinted, looked past her friend’s shoulder, but saw nothing, only the sodden ground and the dark veils of rain. She was tempted to crawl into bed, but reminded herself that she had to act. “Yes, I see them, too.”
Lea turned, her eyes narrowing. “You’re joking. Don’t make fun of me.”
“No, really, I see them.” She stepped beside her friend. “There in the corner.”
“What do you see?”
Teagan tried to remember how Lea had described them. “White bundles” popped into her head. “Two figures bathed in white, one a little boy, the other a little girl, I think. It’s hard to see because it’s raining so hard.”
“That’s what I see, too! But what about the other one, hidden in the corner?”
“Yes, I see him, too.”
“Her.” Lea folded her arms and looked into the rain. “They’re calling to me to come outside—more than ever. They were trying to talk to me the night I fell. Would you like to come with me?”
Teagan started at her friend’s suggestion. The only way Lea could talk to the children was to go outside. They couldn’t get outside without opening a door. The timing was perfect, if she played along. “Of course, I’d love a chat. What do you want to ask them?”
“I want to know whether they’re happy. I hope they weren’t mistreated.”
She couldn’t believe her good fortune. The idea was Lea’s. No one would suspect because the nuns loved her, despite her odd behavior. Yes, she’d sneaked out to the roof with her friends, but she wasn’t a troublemaker who wanted to destroy order at the convent. Lea was happy where she was, as long as she could work on her art and talk to the spirits.
“Don’t get into your nightgown,” Lea said. “Crawl into bed and pull up the covers. We’ll wait a couple of hours after the lights are turned out. When I tap your shoulder, get up, but don’t say anything.”
Lightning flashed to the west. A sharp clap of thunder sounded through the walls.
Teagan turned down her blanket, took off her shoes, and got into bed. Lea did the same.
Patricia yelled from her bed, “Hey, what’s up with you two?”
Teagan wondered whether they should abandon their plan, but was surprised when Lea answered, “Modesty—something you don’t know much about. Teresa and I have decided to undress in the dark as a penance to God.”
“Bollocks.” Patricia huffed and shook her head.
“I’m sure Sister Anne would approve, and as a future nun, you could take a few lessons yourself.”
“You’re both loony birds.” Patricia slid under her blanket and turned away.
Lea winked at Teagan. They only had to wait until the light
s were turned out.
Sister Mary-Elizabeth, on schedule, appeared a few minutes later outside the garret doors, followed by the Mother Superior. Still clad in their habits, they walked slowly down the aisle, looking at each girl.
Teagan’s breath caught in her throat. She wondered why the Mother Superior was with Sister Mary-Elizabeth on her nightly vigil. Would Patricia report them for wearing clothes to bed? However, the nuns passed the girl without a word being uttered. Apparently, her warning about “ratting” had worked.
Exhausted by her work at the washbasins, Teagan soon fell into a sound sleep.
Later, her bed shook. Lea, looking like the thin ghost, stood over her, beckoning her to follow.
She got up, slipped on her shoes, and tiptoed down the aisle to the doors. It was unlikely any of the Magdalens would wake up when they left, because the girls used the toilet at all hours of the night—that was usual behavior they slept through every night.
The hall was dark except for a sliver of yellow light that fell from Sister Mary-Elizabeth’s doorway—a room next to the garret she shared with Sister Rose.
“She may be awake,” Teagan cautioned Lea.
Her friend seemed unconcerned. “We’ll have to take that chance if we want to talk to the spirits. They’re still in the corner.”
Teagan held on to Lea’s shoulder. “You go first. If they see us, I’ll say you were sleepwalking and I was trying to get you back into bed.” She looked down at her clothes. It would be hard to explain why they were in their work dresses, but she would concoct a reason if she had to.
Lea passed Sister Mary-Elizabeth’s room without a glance and headed down the stairs. Teagan peeked in. The nun, head lolling, was asleep, the book she had been reading collapsed in a tent on her stomach. Sister Rose was asleep on the opposite side of the room.
The second floor was in shadow. Sister Anne and Sister Ruth’s bedrooms were down the hall, but no one stirred.
“Where are we headed?” Teagan asked.
“Mr. Roche’s office. He may have keys.”
Soon, they were running past the chapel on the first floor. A cathedral lamp, high above, cast its cold rays on the marble floor. Their shadows loomed large on the walls. The convent’s wooden doors rose in front of them. Lea stopped at Mr. Roche’s office, across from the Mother Superior’s, and ran her fingers over the casement above the door. When she withdrew her hand, she held a silver key.
Lea put the key in the lock and turned it. The door clicked open, revealing a desk and a small chair, a workbench, and a wonderland of grimy tools in a box. A stack of brooms, rakes, and other garden tools stood in one corner.
“How did you know about the key?” Teagan whispered. Her heart hammered in her chest.
“I’ve seen him put it there.”
“You were in here to get the hammer and oil.”
Lea stepped inside. “I’ve been in a few times. Sometimes he’s here, sometimes he’s not. Mr. Roche likes me.”
Teagan didn’t want to press her friend, but every step Lea was taking made sense. If anyone would have keys to the grounds, it would be Sister Anne and Mr. Roche. She had never thought to ask Lea about stealing keys from Mr. Roche’s office. Teagan doubted that her friend would ever do anything against the Mother Superior, but the caretaker was another matter.
“You could have gotten us out all along—without falling off the roof,” Teagan said, irritated. However, her annoyance was tempered by Lea’s unpredictable character; she had always been hard to figure out.
Lea shot Teagan an exasperated look. “I don’t know whether Mr. Roche keeps keys here. It’s only a hunch. He might sleep with them next to his bed. And, besides, you and Nora are the ones who are always planning an escape. I don’t make a habit of rummaging through offices. I’m only doing this because of the spirits. Talking to them is what’s important.”
“Well, let’s not waste time,” Teagan said.
They attacked the desk together, pulling open drawers, but being careful to leave the contents as they found them. Instead of keys, they found papers, cigarettes, pens, pencils, a girly magazine, and a dented silver flask.
“Nothing,” Lea said.
Teagan circled the small office. “Let’s not give up. Maybe they’re someplace else.” She dug into the corner where the brooms, rakes, and hoes stood. She bunched the handles and pulled them away from the wall. A spit of silver shimmered against the granite. A large ring with a dozen or so keys hung on the wall.
“This is what we’re looking for,” Teagan said, relieved to find them. She handed the ring to Lea. “Now we have to find the right one.”
“They’re marked,” Lea said. She pointed to one that looked like a large black skeleton key. “This one opens the front doors.”
Teagan’s pulse quickened. The doors were only a few feet away, along with potential freedom. If the gate key was on the ring, she could escape and never look back—except for her promise to Nora. Even so, she was determined not to make her friend’s mistakes.
“There’s something else we can use.” Lea pointed to an umbrella on the other side of Mr. Roche’s desk.
Teagan picked it up. “Let’s go.”
Lea closed the office and replaced the key on the casement. At the convent doors, her friend inserted the large key into a hole surrounded by an ornate metal plate. Lea turned it and the lock clicked. Teagan opened the door. Cool air poured over her like a first draught of freedom. Without hesitation, she opened the umbrella and stepped outside. No night had ever looked so beautiful, despite the rain that spattered on the umbrella. She stuck her hand out and reveled in the satiny feel of the drops in her palm.
Lea rushed down the steps and turned south toward the spirits’ corner.
Teagan stopped in the lane.
Lea noticed and turned.
“I’m not going with you.” The cool rain fell on her face and shoulders as she handed the umbrella to her friend.
Lea remained steady on her feet, true to her nature, and held out her hands. “I wondered when you would leave. Was this a trick?”
Through the murky light of the convent’s lamps, she looked down at the black pavement, unable to face her friend. “If you think tonight was planned, you’re wrong. I told you from the beginning I wanted to leave. I’ve been thinking how to get through the gate for a few weeks now. You made it happen, Lea.” She looked up and frowned. “But, I lied. I didn’t see your spirit friends—but I believe you can see them. So go talk to them, help them, do whatever you have to do. Then go back in and replace the keys before you get caught. I don’t want you to suffer one minute in the Penitent’s Room. You don’t have to tell Sister Anne a thing. She’ll dole out her punishment to all the Magdalens tomorrow. For that, I’m sorry.” She pointed to the keys. “Please let me out.”
Lea lurched forward and hugged Teagan, holding the umbrella over them. The faint odor of inks—the colors that Lea used to paint—crept into her nose. The smell was a way to remember her friend.
“I’ll walk you to the gate,” Lea said. “You and Nora should be happy. The spirits will wait for me.”
They huddled under the umbrella and walked in the shadows of the oaks and pines. Teagan wondered what would become of her in the world outside the convent. The thought brought up memories that flashed through her mind like ghosts: her father drunk; her mother sitting sullenly in a chair waiting for him to sober up; walks with Cullen along the river. At the time, she had believed everything was normal, because she didn’t know better. Now she knew it wasn’t. Then came her chance meeting with Father Mark, a catastrophe that had changed her life in innumerable ways. What waited on the other side of the gate—freedom, or more slavery? If her parents wouldn’t take her back, she had no place to go. Which torture—inside or outside of the convent—would be the easiest to endure?
She stopped as the gate came into view. Lea stumbled beside her.
“I don’t know if I can do it,” Teagan said. Tears formed and she fought a
gainst them. “I’m not sure I’m strong enough.”
“Why?” Lea asked. “This is what you want.”
“I don’t know what to do. I can’t go to my parents’. I can’t go to Cullen’s. No one will have me.” She collapsed against her friend and sputtered on her shoulder. The umbrella tumbled to the ground.
Lea hugged her and patted her back as they stood in the rain. “God will protect you. If you want this, He wants this.”
Teagan wiped her tears with her sleeve. “Are you sure? I’ve lost my faith over the past year. I don’t think He exists.”
A lamp flickered down the street. Lea smiled. “Of course He’s real. Why do you think He wants you to leave this place? You have other work to do. My job is to talk to the departed spirits—to help them find peace.” Lea stepped back. “Go to your parents. Ask them to take you in.”
Teagan picked up the umbrella and handed it to Lea.
“No, you take it,” Lea said.
“No, you keep it. If it’s missing, they’ll know I was in Mr. Roche’s office. Wipe it off and put it back where it was.”
Teagan walked silently to the gate.
Her friend unlocked the padlock and lifted it so the chain wouldn’t clang against the ironwork. The gate was locked, too, but soon it swung open.
Teagan stepped on the footpath. Her shoulders were soaked, and she shivered in the damp air.
Lea closed the gate, locked it, and replaced the padlock on the chain with a snap. She peered through the gate like a woman saying good-bye to a friend who was off to gaol.
“Good-bye, my friend,” Lea said. “I’ll miss you. God bless.”
The Magdalen Girls Page 24