Authors: Rhys Bowen
I have to get out of here now, I thought. The only windows in the laundry room opened onto the garden with its high wall. It seemed my only option was the chapel. If I could find somewhere to hide when the nuns weren’t occupying it, then I could slip out while they were concentrating on their office. I hadn’t really taken in the details but surely chapels always had side altars and statues and banks of candles—and enough shadow to hide me. If they were currently chanting in there then the next opportunity would be when they returned for the next service at eight o’clock tonight. Elaine had said there was one office every four hours, day and night. Nighttime would be a better idea, as I could melt into shadow more easily in a poorly lit building.
As I stood looking out of the laundry room window I noticed a patch of bare earth. It looked as if someone had started to build something—maybe a raised bed for vegetables.
Not deep enough to bury anybody,
Elaine had said. And then suddenly a thought came to me, so awful and violent that I had to grab onto the window ledge to support myself. Another patch of bare earth and the maid Anna saying that Mrs. Mainwaring had suddenly taken it into her head to build a summer house. Mrs. Mainwaring, usually so cold and withdrawn, who had been quite emotional that Maureen had not returned. I had been blind and naïve about the Mainwarings’ baby. Had I been equally blind about what happened to Maureen? What if she had returned to the Mainwarings unexpectedly and tried to take back her baby? And what if the Mainwarings weren’t about to give it up and had killed her … and buried her on their own property, building a summer house to cover the evidence forever? Now that this thought had entered my head it seemed entirely possible. Perhaps Mrs. Mainwaring did meet Maureen when she came to the convent and the almighty row Maureen had was with her former employer. What if Mrs. Mainwaring took the baby and Maureen followed, tried to take her child back and …
I now had an even stronger reason to get out of here immediately. I had to tell Daniel right away and let him take it from here.
“You, girl, what are you doing?” asked a voice right behind me. And there was Sister Angelique right behind me. “I thought I assigned you to garden work.”
“I just brought in a full bowl of raspberries to the kitchen,” I said, “and I wanted to see if there was a way out to the garden through here. But there wasn’t.”
“No, there is only one way out to the garden. You must realize that we are an enclosed order. This convent was created to keep the outside world at bay and to protect ourselves. We are a band of defenseless women,
ma petite.
That’s why we take such precautions. And we have to protect our young women from threats. We have had abusive and drunken louts hammering at our doors before now, demanding the return of their womenfolk.”
It was an uncanny feeling, almost as if she could read my mind. Had she spoken with Elaine, I wondered. Did she know that I had been querying being locked in here? I decided I had to act now.
“I’m so glad I’ve found you, Sister,” I said. “I’d like to be taken to Sister Jerome, because I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided that I don’t want to stay here and give up my child. I’m going to go home to Ireland and ask for my family’s forgiveness.”
She put a hand on my shoulder. “My dear, you are saying the same thing as every girl who comes to this place. It’s that moment of panic after they realize what they have committed themselves to do. They know it makes sense to give up their child so that it can have a better life, but they don’t think they can go through with it. And this convent is not the most inviting of settings for those who have come from a warm and friendly home, is it?”
I nodded. “I miss my family so terribly,” I said. “I really can’t stay here. I know you’ve been so kind to me in allowing me to just come in off the street, but I have to go. Please let me go.”
“Of course, my dear,” she said. “We never would dream of keeping anyone against her will. But don’t make a hasty decision you’ll regret one day. There is no future in this world for an illegitimate child and no hope of his mother making a good marriage. No man will want you or your child. You will be outcasts—shunned, scorned. Is that what you really want for your baby?”
“No, but … my young man may still be alive in Panama. If he hears about his child I know he’ll return home and do the right thing,” I said. “And if he returns home and hears that I’ve given up our child, then he’d never forgive me.”
I wished I was the kind of woman who could cry at will. But I couldn’t. “I was too hasty in coming here. It was a moment of panic and I’m thinking clearly now. This is not what I want. So if you don’t mind, I’ll take off this uniform, pack up my things, and go before it gets dark.”
The bony hand was still on my shoulder. I felt pressure now, those fingers digging into me. “All in good time. I think you should at least stay the night. I will speak with Sister Jerome about your dilemma and suggest to her that we discuss it in the common room tonight with the rest of my sisters. We will pray together and let their wisdom advise you on what is truly the best path for you and for your child. We will let the Holy Spirit guide us, don’t you agree?”
I sensed the hand on my shoulder trembling and I found myself wondering if this scene had happened before. Had Maureen come to her in the same way and announced that she was going to leave? And Sister had been reasonable and gentle and holy in trying to persuade her to give up here child as promised. And the moment Maureen came into my mind I realized something—something that should have been so obvious that I wondered why I hadn’t seen it before. Sister had said that Maureen ran away during the night, before breakfast. But Elaine, daring, resourceful Elaine who didn’t mind breaking rules, had confirmed that there was no way out of here, unless one stole Sister Jerome’s keys from her belt. I remembered something else too—something that Blanche had told me. She’d said Katy had been worried about something before she died. Katy had said, “She never takes them off.” Did she mean those keys that hung from Sister’s belt? Had she realized, as I had also now done, that Maureen hadn’t gone anywhere, that it was impossible? And had it cost Katy her life? I wanted to escape as urgently as ever, but I made myself a vow. Before I left this place I had to do my best to find out what had become of Maureen.
“Very well, Sister,” I said. “I’ll stay just this one night. But then if I want to go in the morning, you and your sisters will agree that I can leave.”
“Of course,” she said. “We only want what is best for you, you know. You and the little one inside you.” The hand now slid down from my shoulder and took my arm. “Come along, let’s go and see how those lazy bean pickers have been doing.”
And I was led back outside.
Twenty-seven
Now that I realized it was possible that Maureen had never left the convent, I wondered what had become of her. Was she shut away somewhere—a prisoner in the nuns’ part of the building? Had she decided to join the order and now lived among the novices, or was it possible that she was no longer alive? If the latter, then who had killed her and where had they hidden her body? In an old building of locked doors like this it wouldn’t be hard to find a place to dispose of an unwanted body. I stopped my work as I watched Sister Jerome coming out of the building, her black veil and silk robes flying out in the evening breeze like an avenging angel.
I tried to tell myself that I was again being overdramatic and reading too much into this. Perhaps there was a perfectly logical explanation. After all, if I had come up with possible ways to escape couldn’t Maureen have done the same—she who had been here long enough to know the workings of the convent and the secret places of the building? Also she was no longer pregnant and encumbered, making it easier for her to slither through a window, climb along a ledge, or hoist herself over a wall. Perhaps she had climbed through that open window in the maternity room and managed to work her way around the outside of the building somehow. The stone was certainly rough enough for footholds and there were drainpipes and window ledges to hang onto. I’d have to check that out for myself if I could somehow get into that maternity room.
But there was one small thought that kept creeping back into my mind. If Maureen had managed to escape then what was Katy so worried about? And how could she have fallen to her death down those shallow, safe cellar steps?
I went back to harvesting crops with Elaine. It crossed my mind that Elaine might be the kind of person who was Sister Angelique’s informant. She wasn’t well liked by the others and Sister had certainly said some things to me that made me think she knew what had worried me. We filled the final basket of beans and carried it into the kitchen. New smells were now coming from the stove—onions frying and potatoes bubbling away. Dinner was being prepared. My next task was to write a letter to Sid and Gus and get it to Blanche without letting it fall into Sister’s hands. I could hardly ask her for paper and envelope since I had declared my intention of leaving in the morning.
“Is there anywhere we can find paper and envelopes to write a letter?” I asked Elaine.
“Sister Jerome has some in her office,” Elaine said.
“I don’t really want to ask her,” I said.
“I suppose I could let you have a sheet of mine. It’s in my cubby beside my bed—the one by the door,” she said.
“Thank you.” I beamed at her. “And do you happen to have a pencil or something to write with?”
“I’ve my fountain pen,” she said. “Only be careful with it.”
“A fountain pen! My word.” Fountain pens were a luxury I could never dream of affording.
“Given to me for my twenty-first birthday last year by my father,” she said.
“What a kind father you have.”
“Not really,” she said. “He always does the right thing—like giving generous presents for birthdays, but otherwise showed no interest in me whatsoever. I wasn’t a son, you see. He made it clear he was disappointed in me. That’s why a good marriage is so important.”
“Does he know about the baby?”
She gave a bitter laugh. “Of course not. None of them do. They think I’m off visiting friends out West. What’s more they will never know. I’m making my donation to the sisters out of a small legacy on my twenty-first.”
As I went up to find the writing paper it struck me how many secrets Sister Jerome knew and what a perfect opportunity she had for blackmail. I found Elaine’s cubby, stuffed with sundry little luxuries from eau de cologne to lace-trimmed handkerchiefs, and located the paper and the wonderful fountain pen. I sat on my own bed and wrote the note—short and to the point.
Trapped in convent. Come and get me out. Demand to see Sister Perpetua, not Sister Jerome. Tell her the truth—I’m not Molly, the deserted Irish girl.
I sealed the envelope, addressed it, and tucked it away into the pocket of my dress. Now I had to find a way to get it to Blanche. That way came just before dinner. I came downstairs in time to hear Sister Angelique saying, “Aggie, I suppose you’d better take some food through to Blanche. She’s spending the night in the nuns’ guest room. You’ve been the porter. You know where that is, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sister,” Aggie said.
“Could I go with Aggie?” I asked. “I’d really like to apologize to Blanche one more time about taking her bed and to wish her well.”
“Not necessary,” Sister said. “You were in no way to blame for turning her out of her bed. It was high time she left. She knew that as well as anybody.”
“Oh, but I’d like to bid her farewell.”
“Molly, Blanche is a highly emotional young woman. We don’t want to set her off crying again, do we? Go and fix her a tray, Aggie.”
I was not going to be allowed to join her, whatever I said. I waited until Sister moved away and then I wandered through into the kitchen. Aggie was ladling potatoes onto a plate. I crept up beside her. “Aggie,” I whispered. “I have to get a note out to friends. It’s really important. Can you give it to Blanche to post for me?”
“Put it on the tray, under the plate,” she said. I put down the letter and the plate came down on it in an instant. She picked up the tray and set off with it. I heaved a sigh of relief. In the hallway a bell rang and we were summoned to supper. The sisters came in to join us, standing at the head of the table. We said grace and then we sat down. Plates of food were carried in—liver and onions, beans and potatoes. Not bad at all. I glanced at the head of the table and saw that Sister Jerome had a large pork chop instead of our liver. What’s more she was tucking into it with relish, smacking her lips as she ate.
I had barely taken two bites when I heard the sound of running feet and a horrible wail echoing down the hallway. Aggie burst into the dining room.
“Sister, come quickly,” she shouted. “It’s Blanche. She’s hanged herself.”
Sister Jerome jumped up. “Sister, come with me,” she said. “You girls stay where you are. Get on with your meal.”
Aggie was as white as a sheet, her hand over her mouth, and breathing heavily. Other girls helped her to sit down and poured her a mug of milk.
“It was awful,” she gasped at last. “I’ll never get that picture out of my mind. Never. I went in and there she was—hanging from a stone buttress on the wall. All blue her face was and her tongue all swollen and sticking out. Horrible.”
And she started to sob. Arms came around her. She sat there with her head in her hands, her whole body heaving.
“I can’t say I’m surprised, can you?” Elaine said.
“Sister was wrong to make her leave before she was ready,” one of the other girls muttered. “Anyone could tell she wasn’t strong enough to face the outside world alone.”
I felt sick. I could sense the other girls staring at me and I knew what they were thinking. I told myself I had not forced Blanche to leave, but it was my coming that had precipitated things. So I couldn’t help feeling responsible. I also realized something else. Aggie had come back without Blanche’s tray.
“What happened to the tray you took?” I asked.
“I think I just dropped it. I was so shocked. There’s probably food everywhere and I’ll get into trouble.”