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Authors: Marita Conlon-Mckenna

A Girl Called Blue (14 page)

BOOK: A Girl Called Blue
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She waited and waited in the empty dormitory but there was no sign of Sister Agnes or Sister Regina. She wondered what could be going on and what kind of awful punishment she could expect. The lunch bell went and from below came the heavy trooping of footsteps as the others come back from school for their midday meal.

Lil surprised her by coming upstairs to get her cardigan.

‘Blue!’ she shrieked. ‘You’re back! We thought we’d never see you again.’

Immediately the two girls fell into each other’s arms.

‘Where’s Mary? Isn’t she with you?’

‘No. We went to Galway and we found Tommy. She wanted to stay and take care of him. We were upstairs in the dormitory in Saint Gerard’s when we heard one of the brothers coming and I made a run for it. I escaped but Mary wouldn’t leave him. I don’t know what’s happened her. Did you hear anything?’

‘Not a word.’

‘God, I hope she’s okay.’

‘But why did you come back?’

Blue sat on the corner of the bed, going over and over it in her head.

‘I had no money and nowhere else to go,’ she said bitterly.

‘I’m glad you’re back,’ grinned Lil, her brown eyes sparkling. ‘I missed you.’ She could only stay a few minutes and then had to return downstairs. ‘Wait till I tell everyone you’re back, they won’t believe it.’

Blue sat hunched and miserable on the mattress. So much for her great escape plans. Dreaming, that’s all it was. She would never leave here, never. Not until she was sixteen. It was too long to wait.

Finally, Sister Regina came up to see her. She recognised the heavy step in the corridor and she prepared herself to become the focus for all the nun’s rage and anger.

‘So you came back!’ the woman sneered. ‘Decided that Larch Hill was your home – the only place that would take you in, probably.’

‘Yes, Sister.’

‘Don’t you “Yes, Sister” me like that. I know what you’re like. A troublemaker, a hothead! You incite others to get into trouble too. You encouraged Mary Doyle to go with you. Well, no doubt you’ll be glad to hear that she was caught and that she and her brother have been moved to a children’s home in Donegal.’

‘Both of them have been moved?’

‘Yes, that’s what I said. I told Brother Benildus to lock the two of them up and throw away the key. I’ll be sending a report about those Doyle children to whoever is in charge of them now. I’ll mark their card.’

Blue was so relieved that Mary and Tommy had been kept together that she almost cheered. She might never see her friend again but at least Mary was with her brother. It was all she had ever wanted.

‘Once again you have caused this order endless trouble and embarrassment. We had the Guards out looking for you and I had to inform the authorities and the head of the order of your disappearance.’

‘I’m sorry, Sister.’

‘Sorry! I take a dim view of your behaviour. You have let Larch Hill down and are a bad influence on the rest of the children here. If I had my way you would be moved to another children’s facility, where they wouldn’t suffer any of your nonsense. We have almost two hundred children here to look after and we don’t have the time for troublemakers like you.’

‘I’m sorry, Sister,’ she whispered.

‘Sorry! You don’t even know the meaning of the word. You are to be at my office in two hours’ time. I will deal with you then.’

The nun swished out of the room, the skirt of her long black habit flying as she turned away. Blue felt sick to the stomach, knowing that she would be punished severely.

Two hours later she stood outside the nun’s office, trying to get her courage up to knock on the door.

‘Enter!’ Sister Regina called, when she finally managed it.

Blue tried to control the shaking that overwhelmed her as she stood in front of the nun’s desk.

‘Not as brave and cheeky as you were a few days ago, I see,’
commented Sister Regina, who sat at her desk with her pen and papers spread out in front of her.

Blue, unsure what to say or do, said nothing. She was waiting for the order: ‘hold out your hands’. Her fingers and hands were quivering and shaking and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t control them.

‘Keep still!’ insisted the nun.

Blue was determined not to cry or beg or break down. She wasn’t going to give the nun the satisfaction of that. She looked down at the blue and red braided mat on the floor, trying to get her breath as Sister Regina stood up.

This time there was no leather, no strap, but the nun launched into a torrent of words telling her how valueless she was, that she was a nothing, that she would be out on the streets if it weren’t for the charity of the order, calling her mother words Blue didn’t even understand, only sensing the shame of their meaning. Like waves the words washed over her, almost knocking her down, and she thought of Jess smiling and waving to her to join her, to swim in the sea, saying her friend’s name over and over in her head to block out the bad words as the nun ranted on and on telling her that no one wanted her or loved her and that she should be separated from decent children.

Blue could have kicked or spat at her or pulled the veil from the woman’s head and scratched at her face and eyes, but instead she stayed still, listening to the frantic beat of her heart and the sound of her breath, knowing, somehow, deep inside her that the woman before her had little or no connection with the God she was
supposed to pray to. Eventually the stinging snake of words stopped.

‘What have you to say for yourself?’

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

Sister Regina let out an exasperated sigh as she sat back into her chair.

‘Anything else?’

‘I am a child of God, and God loves me,’ said Blue softly, words Sister Monica had once said to her somehow coming into her head. For a split second she thought that Sister Regina would pull out the leather strap and begin to beat her.

‘Get out of here!’ the nun ordered.

* * *

‘Blue! Blue! Are you all right?’ The voice pulled her from the faraway place, as she struggled to wake up.

‘You’ve been asleep for ages,’ grinned Sarah. ‘You missed tea, but we kept you some.’

‘I’m not hungry …’ she started to say, not wanting to deprive them of their food.

But Lil pulled a slice of bread and jam, lightly wrapped in a hanky, from her pocket and handed it to Blue.

‘Thanks,’ she said, her voice shaking.

‘What did that bloody tormentor do to you?’

Blue didn’t want to talk about it, there was no point. She looked around at the sea of faces clustered near her bed. Sarah and Lil and Big Ellen, even Annie and Carmel and Roisin – they were
her friends, the only people in the world that cared about her. Tears began to run down her face again.

‘I don’t know why I’m crying,’ she blubbered, feeling like a big eejit as Lil wrapped her arms around her.

‘You’re going to be all right, Blue, honest.’

‘What’s going on here?’

They all nearly jumped out of their skins when they looked up and saw the black habit and veil, relief washing over them when they realised it was Sister Monica.

‘Bernadette O’Malley is back, Sister,’ announced Annie.

‘Well, isn’t that good news, girls. The missing sheep has returned to the flock.’

She waited for the nun to give out to her, but there was no display of anger or temper. ‘You girls had all better start getting ready for bed,’ she warned instead. ‘I believe Sister Agnes is on her way up.’

Everyone scattered to change into their nightclothes and wash their faces and hands and brush their teeth.

Blue sat wearily on the edge of her bed as Sister Agnes appeared. ‘Bernadette O’Malley, what are you doing in this dormitory?’

‘I sleep here, Sister,’ she replied, confused.

‘Not any more, you don’t. You heard Sister Regina, she has made other arrangements for you. You are no longer allowed to share this room with the other girls.’

Blue stood up, embarrassed. ‘But, Sister, where am I to sleep, then?’

‘You are to follow me.’

The rest of the girls kept their eyes down as Blue left the large dormitory where she had slept for almost ten years.

‘It is decided that you will sleep on your own, where you have no chance to influence the other girls with your bad behaviour.’

She followed Sister Agnes up the narrow back stairs, stopping outside a heavy wooden door. ‘This is your room,’ said the nun, pushing open the door.

The room was tiny, with just enough space for a narrow bed and a chair. A naked light bulb hung from the ceiling. The window was way above her head, too high for her to see out of. A multicoloured rag rug covered part of the floor, the only colour in the room. A chamber pot nestled under the iron bed frame.

‘That is in case you are taken short during the night.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Your door will be locked. It will be opened again by one of the sisters when we rise for early-morning mass.’

Blue could feel her heart plummet. She was going to be kept prisoner in this cell.

‘It is for your own good,’ offered the nun. ‘We can’t have you running away again.’

Sister Monica suddenly appeared on the stairway behind them, her eyes concerned as she looked at the room.

‘There must be some mistake, Agnes,’ she objected. ‘This place isn’t suitable for a child. It’s meant for adult contemplation, prayer.’

‘Sister Regina feels it is. If you have a problem about this, Sister, I suggest you take it up with her in the morning.’

‘I shall do that,’ said Sister Monica, looking flushed and annoyed.

Blue sat down on the bed.

‘I’ll sit with the child for a while,’ offered the kind old nun. ‘We’ll pray together before she sleeps.’

Satisfied, Sister Agnes left.

‘I’ll try and sort things out in the morning, Bernadette,’ she promised, but both of them knew that the head nun was not one to change her mind or back down on anything.

Over the next half hour Blue found herself telling Sister Monica about running away to Galway, about Mary and Tommy finding each other, and about Mr and Mrs Mooney and the small house on Iveagh Terrace.

‘I ran away too, when I was twelve,’ confided Sister Monica. ‘I wanted to join Duffy’s Travelling Circus.’

‘The circus?’

‘I wanted to be a bare-back rider or a trapeze artist. Could you imagine me swinging from a rope in the middle of the big top?’ she chuckled.

Blue could.

‘Luckily, my older sister discovered my plan and managed to haul me home before I got into too much trouble. The thing is, sometimes we all feel the need to run away.’

Blue felt strangely comforted for she liked and respected the thin, wiry little nun with her strange ways and habits.

‘Bernadette, try not to fret alone in this room. The other girls and myself and the rest of the sisters are all still close by.’

She nodded, as Sister Monica bent down and kissed the top of her head. ‘Sleep well, child.’

Blue lay totally still on the narrow bed. The room was so quiet. Her eyes were drawn to the patch of moonlight reflected through the high window. It was like being in a box, a caged animal. She felt as if her heart was broken, cracked right through by a jagged line. She stared at the wall, as the reflected shadows of clouds and stars and moonlight mingled and danced. She wished she still had the yellow book, especially tonight when she needed it so badly. She closed her eyes … the hut was small, the sound of wind and insects rustled in the grass roof above her, outside the animals moved in the dirt and dust making their way in the darkness to the water hole as the babies and children slept, but Teza sang with them, her body still warm from the sun as she clapped her hands and danced …

Back at school the map on the board they used for geography reminded Blue of the great escape and the places she and Mary had travelled through: Kinnegad, Kilbeggan, Athlone … Next year she would learn more geography when she went to the secondary school up the road.

Months passed. July was roasting hot and when August came Lil and Sarah and the rest of Blue’s friends went away for the usual week’s holiday to the summer home in Wexford while she had to stay behind to help in the nursery. Blue tried to pretend that it didn’t matter when they told her about the fun they had had on the beach and Lil finally trying to learn to swim, tried to pretend she didn’t give a toss about things like that because she was used to being alone. At night when she climbed into bed in her tiny, cramped room, she dreamed of faraway places – Africa, Asia, India, Alaska – and the lonesome world around her dissolved away.

It was a warm September Sunday when Sister Monica called her and told her to go to the front parlour.

‘You have a visitor, Bernadette. Tidy your hair and put on a clean blouse, that’s a good girl.’

She wondered who it could be and almost jumped with joy when she saw Jimmy Mooney, looking more uncomfortable than ever, sitting on a spindly armchair that looked set to break under his weight.

‘How are you, girl? I hope the nuns are treating you right.’

She couldn’t speak, didn’t know what to say.

‘I was wondering would you fancy coming out with me and Ma for the afternoon? That is, if you want to.’

Want to! She couldn’t imagine anything better, but maybe the nuns wouldn’t let her.

‘I’ve already asked permission from Sister Monica,’ he said, as if reading her mind.

‘I’d better get my coat and change my shoes.’ She was almost frightened to go lest he disappear and be gone when she got back.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said, reading her mind again. ‘I’ll wait here for you, lass.’

Nance Mooney was sitting in the front seat of the black taxi and greeted her with a big hug.

‘We were thinking of going to Dollymount strand for a bit of a walk and a picnic and we thought you might like to come with us.’

‘Yes, please!’

‘Jimmy doesn’t get much time off at the weekends but I told him he needed to get out and get a bit of fresh air. Do us all good.’

Blue sat into the back of the car as Mrs Mooney talked nineteen to the dozen about her big win at Bingo the previous Tuesday.

‘All my numbers came up, all of them. I had a full house in about six minutes.’

Blue didn’t exactly know what the importance of the numbers or a full house was, but she congratulated the woman warmly.

As they drove out towards Dublin Bay, Jimmy pointed out various places to Blue. ‘There’s the Poolbeg lighthouse, Ringsend gas works. That island over there is called Ireland’s Eye.’

She guessed he must know every street and road and building in Dublin.

Blue loved the way the sea shimmered in the sunlight and the waves rolled in and out, in and out, unchanging. She almost cheered when Jimmy turned off the roadway and drove across a road of sand and clay, the car finally pulling up on the grass above the beach.

They tumbled out of the car, and Mrs Mooney tied a red scarf around her head to protect her perm. Jimmy carried a rug and a wicker basket, while Blue took out the three cushions that were in the boot.

‘Take off your shoes and socks,’ warned Mrs Mooney before they set off to find their spot on the beach, ‘or they’ll be covered in sand.’

Blue followed her advice and rolled her white ankle-socks into the toe of her shoes, which she carried under her arm. The sand felt warm and she scrunched her toes in it.

‘’Tis good for your feet, gets rid of the rough skin and corns,’ said Mrs Mooney.

‘I’m sure Blue doesn’t have corns, Ma,’ Jimmy remarked.

They walked for a few minutes along the almost-empty beach, until Mrs Mooney finally decided on the perfect place to stop.

‘Here will do nicely, Jimmy,’ she said.

He spread out the tartan rug and flopped down beside her. Blue felt suddenly shy and awkward.

‘Sit yourself down, pet,’ urged Mrs Mooney, patting the cushion on the rug beside her.

Blue thought the beach was beautiful and was content to just sit and stare and soak it all in. In the distance the huge ferry-boat sailed across the Irish Sea towards England. She watched the seagulls toss and swirl in the sky above them, and the rippling white yacht sails flutter in the wind as they bobbed in Dublin Bay.

‘Take big breaths of that sea air,’ suggested Jimmy. ‘Good for the mind and body.’

Blue stretched out in the warm sunshine.

‘How about a paddle?’ asked Mrs Mooney, after a while. ‘I’m too old for swimming but I do enjoy a paddle. What about you?’

Blue didn’t have to be asked twice and jumped up immediately. Nance Mooney rolled up the skirt of her dress and tucked it in the elastic of her white cotton knickers. She looked a sight but didn’t seem to care. Blue rolled up the waistband of her own skirt, and together they put their toes into the freezing water. Blue almost jumped with shock as the icy water covered her feet and ankles.

‘Ow! Ow! Ow!’ they shouted in unison, laughing and screaming like two children as they ran in and out of the waves.

Jimmy appeared a few minutes later in a pair of large black swimming trunks and without hesitation ran straight into the
water and dived under, ignoring their warnings about the cold. His big shoulders and dark head bobbed about in the water.

‘He always loved swimming,’ Mrs Mooney said approvingly. ‘Used to swim in the Iveagh baths when he was your age.’

They waded out as far as they could towards where Jimmy was swimming. Envious, Blue watched Jimmy dive and splash like an otter. She kept a close eye on his dark head in the waves. Eventually he got out, his teeth chattering as he wrapped himself in a big green towel.

‘Let’s go for a run up along the beach to dry off,’ he suggested.

Mrs Mooney backed out, but Blue and Jimmy raced along the seashore, the warm sun drying the salt water to a fine layer of white on their skin.

‘I wish I could swim properly,’ Blue said.

‘I’ll teach you,’ he offered.

‘Teach me?’

‘Yes, next summer.’

She said nothing.

‘I mean it. I’ll bring you down here and we’ll get you a costume, and, you’ll see, in no time you’ll be like those kids out there.’ He pointed to some boys having swimming races a few yards out from the shore.

Blue blinked. He was talking about
next
summer, nearly a whole year away, as if she was going to be a part of his plans, his life. She said nothing as they stopped running and walked slowly back the way they had come, their footprints still imprinted on the sand.

Mrs Mooney had brushed all the sand off the rug and spread
out the cushions again and opened the wicker picnic basket.

‘I’m famished,’ she declared. ‘Sea air always gives me an appetite.’

Blue flung herself down on the rug and bit into a thick ham sandwich made with soft crusty bread and golden butter and a bit of lettuce.

‘Want any mustard?’

She shook her head. It was perfect as it was. There were hardboiled eggs still in their shells, which they peeled and ate dipped in salt, and juicy red tomatoes and Mrs Mooney’s home-made buns. Then Jimmy took out the big flask and some plastic cups and poured them all some tea.

‘Have you had enough to eat?’ he asked eventually.

Blue had never had such a feast. ‘I love picnics,’ she shouted, her voice catching in the air.

When they had finished eating she helped Mrs Mooney to repack the battered wicker basket and wrap up the rubbish and brush the sand away. Jimmy stretched out on the rug, his hands under his head as he settled down to snooze in the sun.

Blue walked down near the water to feed some left-over crusts to a curious seagull who’d been hovering around. She bent down, picking up bits and pieces of old shells, a black stone and a round speckled grey one, all smooth and shiny from the sea; she found a lovely piece of driftwood too. She gathered them and put them in her pocket, souvenirs of the day out.

Before going home they all went for a final paddle, the tide almost out, and Blue wishing the day would never end.

‘It was magic,’ she sighed as she sat on the rug drying her feet with the stripey towel.

‘You’ll be back again,’ reassured Mrs Mooney, shaking out her cardigan.

Blue blinked, not quite believing it.

‘I meant it about teaching you to swim next summer,’ declared Jimmy, standing barefoot on the sand, his skin burned pink with the sun, ‘and about coming back to Dollymount and doing lots of other things besides.’

‘Go on, tell the child,’ urged Mrs Mooney.

‘I talked to the nuns.’ Jimmy Mooney was standing in front of Blue, his big face unusually serious. ‘That Sister Regina and the other nun with the pointy face. We asked and we tried, we did everything we could, but they still said Ma and I can’t foster you.’

Blue looked at the waves.

‘We can’t foster you because of my marital status and …’ he looked at his mother.

‘Me being an old one,’ said Mrs Mooney.

Blue could hardly breathe. What were they saying? What were they trying to tell her?

‘But we
can
take you out. Take you home to Iveagh Street, have you visit at weekends and in the holidays …’ he trailed off ‘… that’s if you like, of course. If you want to.’

If you like …

‘I suppose we could be a sort of a family, if you want to call it that,’ he added huskily.

Blue jumped up from the sand and flung herself into his arms.
Jimmy caught her and swung her high in a circle, going round and round, the sea and sand spinning madly.

Mrs Mooney was half-crying with happiness. ‘Jimmy, I told you the child needed to be part of a family. Knew it the minute I laid eyes on her. She’ll come and visit as often as she can, stay with us whenever she wants.’

‘We know we’re not the perfect family,’ Jimmy said slowly. ‘Not what you expected or deserve. We’re just simple, ordinary people, but we do care about you and when the time comes and you are old enough to leave Larch Hill, you will have a place in Iveagh Street.’

Blue was overwhelmed with emotion. It was true: this wasn’t what she had expected or imagined at all. A big man with red cheeks, and hairs that grew on his chest and arms, and had sunburned skin and smoked tobacco and had a mind like a map, and a fat old woman with permed grey hair who like to paddle with her skirt stuffed into her knickers and play cards. It wasn’t what she had imagined at all, but somewhere deep in her hungry heart she knew that Jimmy and Nance Mooney were the exact people she wanted to have as family.

‘Thank you,’ she said hugging them both. ‘Thank you…thank you …’

They sang all the way home and Jimmy bought three whipped ice cream cones to celebrate. Bursting with happiness, Blue savoured the sweet, creamy taste.

‘I’ll collect you next Sunday and maybe we might go for a walk in Stephen’s Green. There’s ducks there and swings and a slide.’

‘And I’ll cook something special, and make some more of my buns,’ smiled Nance Mooney, trying to wipe her smeared hands clean with a hanky.

Blue leaned back against the leather car seat. She couldn’t wait to get back and tell Lil and Sarah and Sister Monica the good news. At long last she had found … well sort of found … a family of her own.

BOOK: A Girl Called Blue
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