A Girl Called Blue

by Marita Conlon-McKenna

  ‘Yuk! Let’s get out of here,’ suggested Lil.

  They were all glad to get back out to the sunshine and fresh air.

  The tall giraffes stretched out their big, long necks to stare at the children over a high fence. Blue looked into their big, gentle eyes, wondering if they wished they were back in Africa.

  Jimmy Mooney asked the elephant keeper if they could come closer to see the elephant.

  ‘Aye, bring them along in,’ he said. ‘Princess won’t hurt them. She’s a gentle giant.’

  Blue couldn’t believe it when she was allowed to stroke the elephant’s skin. It felt rough and hard and the elephant in return touched her with the tip of her long trunk, snuffling at her clothes with curiosity.

  The keeper passed her a piece of what looked like dried-out madeira cake. ‘Hold it still in the palm of your hand and Princess will find it for herself.’

  Blue giggled as the elephant’s trunk curved around suddenly, sniffed at her hand, the hairs tickling her, then grabbed the piece of food and passed it into her mouth. The other kids were all open-mouthed, watching.

  ‘No, no!’ said Lil, shaking her head when the keeper offered to let her have a go.

  There was so much to see and do, Blue was dizzy with it all. The sea lions chased clumsily around the rocks, barking, but moved like sleek machines once they dived in the water. The polar bear looked so hot and sad with his heavy, yellow-white coat and big paws as he paced back and forth on the grey concrete and rocks.

  ‘Poor bear,’ murmured Molly, standing in front of the railings. ‘He’s lonesome.’

  Hot and thirsty, they all gave whoops of joy when Mrs Mooney declared that she was starving and led them into the big restaurant. From the upstairs tables they could still watch the animals and the lake below.

  There were jugs of orange and lemonade ready for them, and waitresses in smart black-and-white uniforms carried out big trays laden with plates of fat sausages and crisp golden chips. It was yummy. Blue dipped her chips in the thick, red tomato sauce, trying not to burn her mouth as she stuffed herself.

  Molly began to cry when she knocked her plate on the floor, expecting to be punished. But a pretty waitress simply came over and picked it up and promised she’d be back with another plate straight away.

  ‘It’s so posh,’ laughed Molly, drying her tears immediately.

  Afterwards there were bowls of orange jelly and ice-cream.

  ‘Have you lot had enough yet?’ Jimmy joked, patting his own big stomach. ‘You’ve still got to see the monkeys and Pets’ Corner. So hurry it up!’

  They all queued up for the ladies’ toilet before rushing back downstairs and out onto the grassy front lawn again. Mrs Mooney checked their names off her list and led them to where all the noise was coming from.

  The monkeys screeched and jumped around their cages while the chimpanzees stretched their paws out through the bars and seemed to want to talk to the children. They reminded Blue of the babies in the nursery. She wished she could open the bars and lift one out and hold it in her arms.

  Pets’ Corner was the very last place on the list.

  ‘This is the best place of all,’ smiled Molly, who admitted to being scared of a lot of the animals they had already seen. Here, instead of tall wire cages and bars, there were low wooden fences and straw, and you were allowed to stroke and pet the animals.

  There were pigs and goats and ducks and rabbits and baby lambs and fluffy yellow chicks that chirped and cheeped, and two old donkeys called Tilly and Tommy. The children raced between all the animals, finding it hard to choose which was their favourite.

  There was also a wishing chair, like a big toadstool, and they all took a turn to sit into it and make a wish. Blue sat on the curved stone seat and closed her eyes; she wished as hard as she could that she would find a family of her own some day.

  There were two play houses and a slide there too and Blue watched as Molly joined in the fun with all of the other smaller kids, her brown eyes shining. She had taken a liking to the rabbits and looked so happy when the keeper placed a soft white fluffy rabbit in her arms.

  ‘He’s lovely,’ smiled Molly, stroking the rabbit’s head and holding a small carrot for it to chew.

  They all wished they could stay at the zoo forever, playing with animals. But finally Jimmy called the group together.

  ‘We’ve got to make sure we have everybody before we leave the zoo,’ said Mrs Mooney, calling out their names again.

  ‘Aaaaahhh!’ they all complained, not wanting the day to end.

  ‘We don’t want to go back to awful Larch Hill!’ a brave voice called from the back. Lil and Blue agreed that it was lucky Sister Regina wasn’t there.

  ‘Now, now, the day’s not over yet,’ said Bill, pushing his sunglasses up on his forehead, ‘no, not at all. There’s going to be fun and games in the park, and a few more goodies before you all go home, I promise.’

  A huge cheer greeted that announcement and they all followed Jimmy and Bill and Mrs Mooney back outside. This time they were barely sitting in Jimmy’s taxi before he stopped again.

  ‘Here you are now,’ he said, throwing open the car door. Blue and Lil and Mary and Jess and Molly ran with whoops and shouts to follow all the other boys and girls who were racing down a grassy hill to an enormous hollow below. It was like a huge green bowl, surrounded by trees and grass. They could roar and scream as much as they liked, for there was nobody to tell them to hush up or be quiet as they tumbled and rolled down the grassy bank. There were races and teams and they played football too, the boys beating the girls silly. But nobody cared. When they were panting and out of breath, there was a big picnic with sandwiches, bags of crisps and lukewarm orange in paper cups. As they went back up the hill, the sun started to dip. They all agreed that it had been the best day out ever and that Mrs Mooney and Jimmy and all the taxi men and helpers had made it so.

  ‘Three cheers for everyone,’ shouted a boy with red hair and freckles who had put the knee out of his trousers and had grass stains on his grey jumper, not caring how much trouble he’d get into back at the boys’ home later.

  ‘Hip, hip, hurray!’ they chorused, wanting to remember the good times they’d all shared. ‘Hip, hip, hurray!’

  CHAPTER 6

  Getting Even

  Blue tried her best each night to rouse Molly from her sleep and make her go to the toilet, but Molly would turn over and protest, not wanting to leave the cosy warmth of the bed. Blue would shake her, call her, get cross with her. Some nights it worked, but other times Blue herself was just too tired, worn out from schoolwork, kitchen work and working in the bead room making rosaries, and she fell into a deep sleep, Molly’s bedwetting problems forgotten. And in the morning there wasn’t enough time to help her wash without getting in trouble herself for being late for mass.

  She hated the name-calling and the shaming that inevitably followed as Molly had to strip her bed, yet again, and carry the sheets to the laundry room in front of everyone. Sister Regina, the head nun, had even summoned Molly to her office for a scolding, but none of it did any good. Blue watched as the little girl became more withdrawn and isolated from the other children, ashamed of herself.

  ‘The poor kid,’ murmured Lil one lunchtime. ‘I heard some of the kids in school call her Stinky, and they won’t sit beside her.’

  ‘That’s so mean and cruel,’ agreed Blue. ‘She’s been through enough with getting put in here when her mother died. It’s just not fair.’

  ‘I know, but what can anyone do about it?’

  Blue racked her brains, as the taunting and jeering got worse. It was as if Joan and her friends actually wanted Molly to fail every morning so they would have the fun of jeering at her at the start of the day. Blue got angry even thinking about it. She had promised Sister Monica to watch her temper and try to take things slowly and gently, but she was sorely tempted to lash out. She couldn’t – no, wouldn’t – let them away with tormenting the little girl. She wo
uld think of something.

  The idea came to her in a flash, in the middle of history class. Mrs Brady, her teacher, looked at her suspiciously, wondering why she was grinning to herself. It was so simple. She wouldn’t tell Molly in case she got the child into more trouble. She would do this all on her own. There was only one thing she needed and she hoped Big Ellen would agree.

  After tea and homework Blue volunteered to go up and help with the babies. Big Ellen laughed out loud when she heard what Blue wanted.

  That night Blue had to stay awake. She dozed fitfully until she finally heard the nuns turn off the lights and head for their own beds. Blue woke Molly and made her go to the bathroom; then she visited the bathroom herself. She waited and waited until Molly and the rest of the dormitory were fast asleep before she sneaked over to Joan’s bed, a plastic potty in her hand.

  Joan’s broad face was peaceful as she slept, the blanket pulled up almost over her nose. She was dead to the world.

  Blue took her time and very gently worked her way around the bed, easing the blankets and sheets back ever so slowly. She mustn’t wake Joan. The girl stirred in her sleep, her arm lashing out as if she sensed something, before rolling right over on her other side.

  Blue held her breath, waited a few moments, then finished off what she was doing, and dropped the covers back down. Exhausted, she crept back to bed, not stirring till Sister Carmel’s booming voice woke them in the morning.

  ‘Morning, Molly!’ Blue said, grinning.

  Molly sat up, her look of trepidation disappearing as soon as she realised her bed was dry. But from the other side of the room there was a commotion.

  Joan was standing beside her bed. The strong smell of urine hit everyone in the room.

  ‘I’m sorry, Sister,’ she protested. ‘This has never happened me before, honest, it never has.’

  ‘Wet-a-bed! Wet-a-bed!’ Joan’s friends began their usual taunting chorus of jeers, now directed at Joan. Joan looked utterly miserable in her damp nightdress as the nun surveyed her yellow-stained sheets and all the girls pressed forward to see what was going on.

  ‘This is a disgrace,’ shouted the nun. ‘A big girl your age not having control of her bladder. I never heard the like of it. Sister Regina will have to be informed of this.’

  ‘Please, Sister, I’m sorry, I don’t know how it happened. I must have been too tired.’

  Joan looked like she was about to break down and cry. ‘I have to go to the bathroom.’

  ‘Bathroom? You’ll carry those sheets to the laundry room first, my girl.’

  ‘Please, Sister, let me carry them downstairs later.’

  ‘You will remove those filthy sheets immediately.’

  Blue felt a momentary pang of guilt as Joan bundled the wet sheets in her arms, a look of utter shame on her face. But she was rewarded in seeing the rapt attention of Molly, who stood watching, her eyes bright with pride at her own dry bed.

  ‘Wet-a-bed!’ the voices from the corner came again.

  Joan ran over and would have attacked her friends but for the intervention of the nun, who took her out to the busy corridor to discuss her bad behaviour.

  Blue glanced around the room. Some of the girls were embarrassed, others were wondering: if it happened to Joan could it happen to me? She tried to hide her smile for she had a feeling that there would be no more jeers or name-calling, not in their dormitory at least.

  CHAPTER 7

  The Maguires

  Blue’s longing to find a family of her own continued, even after her disappointment with the Hickeys. She was sure that somewhere in the world there was someone she could love or care for who would love her right back.

  Sister Gabriel was the nun in charge of placements. Blue was called to see her and when she told the nun of her wish Sister Gabriel’s face filled with concern. ‘You know how difficult it is to find a placement once you get older, Bernadette. All the families tend to want the same thing, a baby or a small child.’

  ‘I know,’ said Blue. But she was adamant she wanted to try and find a family of her own, no matter what.

  ‘I really want to try again, Sister.’

  The nun studied the girl in front of her with the piercing blue eyes, who seemed to have spent more time in her office over the past four years than most. A wild child, unsettled, bold, troublesome, lonely were just some of the many words she’d written on the file. Finding a family who would want to take her on would be difficult. Sister Gabriel turned over page after page of her file.

  ‘I do have another couple here on my list, the Maguires. Small farmers, they only recently applied for a visit. They have three children, three boys I believe.’

  Three boys. Blue imagined that could be fun.

  ‘Apparently Mrs Maguire would really like to host or foster a girl about your age for the summer, as she wants some female company.’

  Blue’s heart lifted. Someone who wanted a girl, wanted a girl to talk to.

  ‘I could set up a preliminary visit with them if you want. It would be a chance for all of you to get to know each other.’

  ‘Yes, please,’ agreed Blue, keeping her fingers crossed.

  Sister Gabriel arranged for the Maguires to come and meet herself and Blue at Larch Hill first.

  * * *

  Blue was nervous when she stepped into the parlour. She shook each of them by the hand as the nun introduced them. Mr Maguire was a small man with a big round belly and heavy cheeks, who said very little. Mrs Maguire was the total opposite, a tall thin woman with hard, tight features. Her sharp eyes scrutinised every inch of the parlour while they spoke.

  Blue listened as the adults discussed her.

  ‘What about school? Is she bright and good at school and her work?’ asked the woman.

  ‘Bernadette is an excellent student, very good at her work,’ smiled Sister Gabriel. ‘All her teachers over the years have said it.’

  A look passed between the couple.

  ‘What about her health?’

  Blue tried to sit up straight and look the epitome of fitness and good health.

  ‘Excellent.’

  ‘Well, that’s very good to hear,’ nodded Mr Maguire. ‘We wouldn’t want a sickly child.’

  ‘I believe you are an only child?’ Mrs Maguire turned to Blue. ‘It must be a little lonely being on your own?’

  Blue felt the familiar lump in her throat, as she gave her standard reply. ‘In Larch Hill we are never really on our own as there are lots of other children here. Still, it would be nice to have somebody …’

  Her words hung in the air.

  She could see Mr Maguire shifting in the big armchair as Mrs Maguire smiled. ‘We have three sons, you know. The boys are a great help to Ted with the farm and the animals, but having a girl about the place would be nice.’

  By the end of the meeting Sister Gabriel had arranged for Blue to visit the Maguire home the following weekend and stay overnight on Saturday.

  ‘I think you’re daft,’ warned Mary, as they got ready for bed that night, ‘wanting to go and stay with total strangers and waste your time on them.’

  ‘They might be nice,’ Blue smiled, hopeful that it was the truth.

  ‘I think it’s fishy if they’ve already got three kids of their own and they’re suddenly looking to foster someone.’

  ‘They’ve only got boys,’ she explained.

  ‘So they want someone to dress up in pink dresses and tie bows in her hair, is that it?’

  Blue hoped not. She certainly wasn’t the pretty, girly type, if that’s what the Maguires were expecting.

  ‘Mind your own business, Mary Doyle, and I’ll mind mine,’ shouted Blue, wiping her face on a towel and banging the door of the bathroom shut behind her.

  * * *

  Mr Maguire collected her on Saturday morning in a rather battered-looking Ford Anglia. Sister Gabriel had told her the family ran a small dairy just outside the city. Blue imagined fields and animals and a big, warm farmhouse, and had to
admit to slight disappointment as the car pulled up in a yard to the side of a shabby-looking house, in sore need of painting, and a ramshackle collection of outhouses where the cows were kept. The yard was muddy and dirty and everything seemed to smell. She wrinkled her nose.

  ‘Animals and farms smell,’ remarked Mr Maguire. ‘You’d best get used to it.’

  She followed him into a narrow hallway. Mr Maguire took her coat and hung it on the mahogany coat-stand. Blue caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her face pale and nervous, her eyes anxious, her hair looking straggly and unkempt despite her best efforts to look neat and tidy. Mrs Maguire suddenly appeared and politely welcomed her, leading the way into the front sitting room. The air smelled of stale cigarette smoke and everything from the large couch and armchairs to the floral-patterned carpets and curtains seemed to be coated in a dim layer of smoky brownness.

  ‘Sit down, Bernadette, and make yourself comfortable. You are most welcome to our home.’ The woman smiled.

  Blue shifted on the couch. There was an awkward pause, nobody knowing what to say.

  ‘I’ve just made a pot of tea and some scones,’ said Mrs Maguire, disappearing into the kitchen. ‘We could all do with a cup, I’m sure.’

  Blue followed her, offering to help. The kitchen was small and poky compared to Larch Hill. There was a gas cooker and a fridge and a row of blue-painted presses along one wall. There was a narrow formica table where, obviously, the family normally dined. Mrs Maguire lit a cigarette, the smoke seeming to calm her as she pointed out where things were and filled a jug with milk.

  ‘You can take that in now, like a good girl.’

  Blue placed the tray on the coffee table, leaving space for Mrs Maguire to bring the teapot.