‘Please, Sister, don’t touch my hair,’ she begged. ‘My mammy loves my hair. She brushes it every night.’
‘Well, your mammy’s not here and you are infested. Your hair is far too long and is covered in nits. We’d never comb them all out.’
‘I’ll comb it, Sister, honest I will. You can check it afterwards.’
‘We have too much to be doing to attend to checking your hair. It’s unhygienic.’ The nun lifted the scissors.
‘No!’ screamed Sarah. ‘Leave my hair alone. Don’t cut it!’ She was trying to jump up off the seat and run away, but the nun held her down.
‘You will do as you’re told,’ Sister Agnes insisted, the scissors cutting straight through the beautiful blond hair.
There was absolute silence. Even the boys stopped their ructions as Sister Agnes snipped away, the silky lengths of hair falling to the floor. Sarah froze in shock, unable to say a word, not even blinking as her hair was cut savagely and unevenly to the level of her ears. They all watched open-mouthed. Blue stood up and stepped forward, desperately wanting to put an end to what the nun was doing.
‘Bernadette O’Malley, what is it?’ asked the nun, glaring at her challengingly.
Blue wished she was brave enough to kick and punch the nun and drag Sarah away from what was happening but instead she remained silent, anger burning deep inside her.
‘Sit back down, you’ll have your turn in a few minutes.’
At last it was over. As Sarah stood up a strange sound came from deep within her. Her little sister ran forward to hug her. As she walked towards the back of the hall Blue thought that Sarah with her chopped hair looked more beautiful than ever.
Blue combed through her own hair, then watched two tiny brown lice wriggle and squirm on the comb. Ugh! They were disgusting. She took a hanky from her pocket and dropped them onto it; a few minutes later another six had joined them. She studied their legs and heads closely, before wrapping them up carefully in the hanky.
The whole institution smelled to high heaven. In the upstairs dormitories every bed and cot had to be stripped, the sheets and pillowcases brought down to the laundry for washing and every bed remade with clean linen. The older girls made the beds for the little ones, but Blue didn’t know how anyone was going to get a wink of sleep with the awful smell that was coming from their hair.
The next morning Blue made sure to get to the chapel early. She managed to get a seat in the row right behind the nuns, their heads bent in concentration and prayer. Jess looked at her, puzzled as to why she had chosen such a position when they usually tried to sit at the back. Blue knelt, head down, elbows on the wooden rail, eyes closed, praying. She only had a few minutes but, timing it perfectly, she took out her hanky to blow her nose as Sister Agnes sat up on the seat to listen to the gospel. Blue nonchalantly placed her elbows and arms on the front of the bench; then, opening the pink hanky, she saw the lice still moving. She leant forward and managed to place them gently on top of Sister Agnes’s black veil, where they stayed still for a few seconds. Two of them began to make for the trace of brown hair that peeped through the white edging of the veil; the others were obviously dead and rolled down off the nun’s habit and fell beneath the bench.
Blue sat up and prayed. She thought of Sarah and her little sister, and prayed that God would do the fair thing and let Sister Agnes experience a little infestation of her own.
CHAPTER 9
This Little Piggy …
The next Saturday morning Mr Maguire collected her as usual. ‘Been raining non-stop for the past three days,’ he observed as they drove through Blessington. ‘But looks like it’s drying up nicely.’
Blue looked at the soft white clouds in the clear sky and prayed for sunny weather.
‘I’ll drop you off at the house and be back in a few minutes,’ he muttered, driving off down the road.
She was about to knock at the front door but, realising her shoes were muddy, went around to the back door instead.
The side window was open and she could hear the hum of voices from the kitchen.
‘Mammy, does the orphan girl have to come again today?’ complained Paddy.
‘She’s here every weekend!’ added Frank.
‘Bernadette is a good worker,’ answered their mother, ‘able to cook and clean and work like a girl almost twice her age. Your father and I were lucky to discover her.’
‘But why does she keep having to come and stay here?’ protested the youngest boy.
‘When she gets her holidays she’ll be coming to stay with us for the rest of the summer and if things work out she might even come to live with us for good,’ answered their mother.
‘Nah!’
‘No!’
‘Listen, I’m not getting any younger and I need someone to give me a hand. Bernadette is happy to have a roof over her head and to be living with a respectable family who will give her a home. In return for us taking her in she will work for her keep.’
Blue swallowed hard. She knew some of the girls went to work with families or in the big hotels and guesthouses in the city when they left Larch Hill. But they were older than her and they got paid. She wasn’t even thirteen yet and she was still at school. She hadn’t even thought of work yet! And nobody said anything at all nice about her.
Her mind was a whirl of conflicting thoughts as she knocked, then pushed in the back door.
Mrs Maguire jumped up guiltily to greet her. ‘Oh, Bernadette! I didn’t hear you. You got your hair cut!’
Blue blushed, not wanting to tell her why.
‘I think it’s nicer longer, but I suppose it’ll grow back quick enough.’
Blue tried to smile and pretend it didn’t matter.
‘Anyway it’s good to have you here, Bernadette. There’s a bit of washing to do now that it’s got dry again, and I was hoping you’d give me a hand with the oven. It needs cleaning. If my back wasn’t so bad I’d manage it on my own, but you know how hard it is to reach into the back of the oven when you’re kneeling on the floor.’
Blue tried to hide her dismay at the greasy job awaiting her, but consoled herself that these were normal family jobs – what could you expect if you were part of a hardworking, farming family? Her hopes of freedom and fun and playing in the enticing stream at the bottom of the Maguires’ field were dashed once again as she rolled up her sleeves and set to work.
Mrs Maguire came in and to check on her. She stood and watched, smoking a cigarette and leaning against the kitchen sink.
‘Bernadette, I have to give it to you, dear, you’re a fine little worker. Those nuns have reared you well. We’re blessed with you.’
Blue grinned, wiping her forehead. Nobody had ever said before that they were blessed with her. Nobody.
‘It’s a grand day for the match,’ Mr Maguire boomed, arriving home and coming into the kitchen.
‘What time is it starting?’ asked Paddy.
‘Three o’clock. We’ll be there in good time.’
Hope filled Blue’s heart at the thought of a family outing.
‘Ted and the boys are going to watch the local side play against a team from Croom in Limerick,’ smiled Mrs Maguire. ‘With the men out of the house it’ll give us a chance to get a bit of proper cleaning done.’
Blue blinked. She wanted to go to the match too instead of being stuck here cleaning and washing. ‘I’d love to see the match,’ she murmured.
Mr Maguire’s eyes looked puzzled, and the boys looked jealous as they all exclaimed in unison, ‘No!’
‘Hurling isn’t for women,’ Mrs Maguire explained. ‘Especially not for girls like yourself.’
Blue was angry and resentful as Mrs Maguire waved the others off after lunch.
The boy’s bedrooms were like pigsties. Mrs Maguire had decided, with the good early summer drying weather, to change all their beds. When the beds were stripped, Mrs Maguire told Blue to brush and then wash the lino in each bedroom. In no time the sweat was rolling off her. The only
bedroom that was left untouched was her own.
‘You can do that yourself another day,’ suggested the woman.
Eventually the washing line was filled with top sheets and under-sheets and pillowcases, and heavy candlewick and sateen bed covers that flapped lazily in the breeze.
‘I’m exhausted,’ yawned Mrs Maguire. ‘I think I’ll put my feet up for a while to try and get my energy back.’
Blue hoped she might let her off to play for the rest of the afternoon, but again she was disappointed.
‘With the sun shining in, you can really see just how dirty the insides of those bedroom windows have become. Be a good girl and give them a bit of a clean.’
This is as bad as scrub day! thought Blue as she raced through the work, barely wiping the windowpanes with a cloth and water and giving them the quickest polish ever. Finally finished, she looked in on Mrs Maguire who was fast asleep in the chair, her mouth open. Blue smirked. Now she could go outside.
The sound of the piglets in the pen attracted her and she decided to see how they were doing. Cows were nice enough she supposed, but pigs were far more interesting.
The yard was muddy and she was glad she’d slipped on Dermot’s old boots. The pigs squealed a welcome, all running towards her looking for food. Even in a few weeks they had got much bigger, their pink bodies squirming around each other, curly tails in the air.
‘You little pets,’ she laughed, running over to them. She leaned down to scratch their backs and snouts as they all fought for attention. There was no sign of their mother.
‘Where’s my girl Bonnie? Where are you?’
As if understanding her words, one of the little pigs stood smelling the air, looking up at her.
She just wanted to scoop the piglets up in her arms and play with them for a few minutes. Lifting the ring around the pen gate, she let herself in. They all rushed to her curiously and she lifted them up and tickled them. She must think of names for them all, she decided, especially now they were getting bigger. She had the smallest one in her arms, scratching its belly, when she heard a loud squeal and saw the sow wake up in the corner and get to her feet.
Maybe she’d attack her for playing with her babies! Blue turned in an instant to run back out of the pigsty as the sow lumbered threateningly towards her. She rammed the gate shut behind her, realising too late that some of the piglets had squeezed past her and were out in the yard running around.
Oh my God! What would she do? Maybe she should shout to Mrs Maguire for help? No, she decided, it would be better if she could just catch them herself and pop them back in the pen. Then no one would know what had happened.
They were all around her and she moved slowly, not wanting to scare them or make them nervous. The smallest piglet was only about two feet away from her, snuffling at a piece of stale bread and some potato peelings that had fallen from the slop bucket. Blue moved in slowly, making no noise, and with a sudden swoop of her arm had the tiniest piglet caught and lifted back in the pen in a matter of seconds. The piglet looked around from side to side, perplexed by its change of location.
Blue scanned the yard. She could still see the other three. Two were making for the milking parlour, trotting quickly, perhaps lured by the smell of milk. If they got into the parlour they could destroy it. She had to try and corner them. She tiptoed after them as they zigzagged and squealed, holding their snouts high with curiosity. Blue was getting closer as they went in through the open door of the milking parlour, sniffing at one milk pail and then another. She noticed one pail with an inch of creamy milk at the bottom. She crept over, tipped it on to its side and stood back to wait. The piglets put their quivering snouts up in the air, sniffing. God, please let them come! In a flurry the two piglets ran in her direction, one heading straight for the milk, snout down. He was half in the bucket when she nabbed him. She held him firmly as he squirmed and wriggled and squealed, trying to get away from her. His sister took off, careering madly out the door and across the yard. Blue struggled to hold on to him, almost dropping him in the yard, but managed to deposit him back into the safety of the pen. Then she turned around, catching a glimpse of pig flesh over by the house. She’d never catch this one, which was trotting like a racehorse towards the kitchen door, its two ears flapping in the slight breeze.
Blue made a low, squealy, piggy sound. Confused, the piglet turned around. She approached it head-on and the pig stood, uncertain, as it contemplated which direction to turn. Blue moved closer. The piglet tried to make a quick dash for it between her legs, and Blue flung herself on the ground, almost flattening the poor animal as she reached out and grabbed hold of one of its hind legs. It fought back, ramming at her with its snout, but she held firm, wrapping her two arms around it, trying to soothe and calm the animal by talking to it. ‘This little piggy went to market … this little piggy stayed at home …’ She almost threw it back on top of the sow, who was sniffing around, searching for it. Phew! They were all back in the pig pen.
No, they weren’t! Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed a pink flash heading across the fields into the distance towards the old oak wood. Oh no! She just knew it was Bonnie. The little pig was heading for freedom. Mr and Mrs Maguire would kill her!
Blue ran like a crazy person across the fields after the piglet. But Bonnie disappeared into the shadows of the wood. Blue would have to go in after her.
She squinted in the sudden darkness. The trees were huge, taller than any she had ever seen, stretching up to the sky like giant fingers. Their trunks were gnarled and patterned, each one different from the other, hundreds of years of history etched into their barks.
She searched around for the piglet, growing more desperate by the minute. Then she heard a scuffling sound to her right. She held her breath and crept around the base of a huge tree. It was Bonnie. The piglet was snuffling eagerly at an acorn, which it tossed around before swallowing it. Blue padded softly over, not daring to breathe, trying to take it by surprise. Both of them were startled by the sudden harsh caw of a huge crow that flapped its wings noisily and flew from the branches above them. The piglet darted off once again through the undergrowth. Blue picked up a handful of acorns and shoved them in her pocket, as she patiently began to follow again.
She watched as the small pig ran hither and thither, totally lost and bewildered in this strange environment. She was losing track of time and direction as she ran after it. Eventually, tired and thirsty, she had to stop. She took out the acorns and threw them on the ground, then sat, feeling tears form behind her eyes. She almost cried with joy then the little pink body came back into view, ears cocked, snout up, as it approached the tempting pile of nuts. Ignoring Blue, it began to snuffle and eat. Blue held her breath. Warm from running, she had taken off her cardigan, and now, without making any sudden movement, she dropped it down on to the piglet before throwing herself onto the moving bundle and grabbing it.
‘Caught you! Caught you, Bonnie.’ She laughed aloud, struggling to hold on to the squirming piglet who squealed loudly in protest as she wrapped it tightly in the cardigan. ‘Time to go home!’
The wood was darkening as the sunlight began to disappear, and she realised that Mrs Maguire would be looking for her by now. She ran as fast as she could with the piglet wrapped in her arms, her feet thumping on the mossy carpet of the wood. She dashed back through the fields, panting, her breath catching in her throat as she ran. It was so dark she could hardly see. Her clothes were torn. She was filthy, but at least she’d caught Bonnie. Her heart sank as she stepped into the yard and saw that all the lights in the house were on.
‘So, you decided to come back!’ Mrs Maguire stood over her, her cheeks livid with two patches of red. ‘I’ve been out of my mind with worry. I didn’t know what to do. Call the orphanage? Tell the Guards you were missing? Tell them someone stole one of our prize pigs? Ted and the boys have been searching all over for you. Where were you?’
Blue wished a hole in the ground would open up and swallow her.
‘The pig escaped. I had to try and catch her, get her back. She went into the woods.’
‘You never asked my permission to go off.’
‘I’m sorry. You were asleep and I just wanted to catch Bonnie.’
At the mention of her name the piglet began to struggle again. She squealed and wriggled so much that Blue had difficulty keeping hold of her and lowering her into the pig pen. The big sow created a right rumpus as they were reunited.
‘Totally irresponsible, that’s what I’d call it, to run off and disappear and not say a word to anyone,’ Mrs Maguire continued. Her hard, thin face was taut with anger, the skin stretched across her cheekbones, her blue eyes cold and glaring.
‘I lost track of the time. I’m so sorry, Mrs Maguire, I didn’t realise when I was chasing Bonnie how late it was or that it was getting dark and that you would be worried.’
‘Bonnie!’ She harrumphed. ‘Tell me, how did the piglet get to be out of her pen?’
Blue gave a silent sigh of relief that she had managed to get the other three back in the pen without anyone knowing they’d escaped, but there was no escaping this time.
‘I was playing with her,’ she admitted honestly.
‘Wait till Ted hears about this,’ Mrs Maguire said tersely, turning back towards the house.
Mrs Maguire didn’t soften or relent, and when the others returned she broke into a tirade against Blue, saying how ungrateful she was for their kindness.
Later that night, Blue pulled the curtains in her bedroom, shutting out the night, and lay hunched up in the bed feeling miserable. She shivered with cold as she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. Reaching down to the floor, she pulled the yellow book from her bag. Like an old friend, its glossy cover comforted her as her fingers gently turned the pages. She slowly flipped through the pages with the tiger and her new cubs and the two men on horseback looking out over the grassy prairies, imagining the feel of the warm wind in her hair and the sensation of riding bareback, her legs dangling on a piebald pony. Moving on through the book, Blue eventually settled on the village of Omura on the shores of the River Kenga in southern Africa, the smiling face of Teza becoming hers as the cold of the bedroom disappeared. She felt the warm sun on her back, heard the laughter of the women and children around her. She stood surrounded by thatched huts, as the old blind woman warned her yet again to watch out for father crocodile when she went to fetch water from the river.
A Girl Called Blue Page 5