Annie's Stories (10 page)

“Square in the jaw.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “I’m surprised they let you go at all.”

Mrs. Hawkins laughed and pulled the lass to her. “You’ll be staying at my boardinghouse, but no boxing the staff.”

Aileen, to her credit, blushed. “Pleased and delighted, ma’am. I’m sure you are more civilized over there.”

Annie urged her toward the ramp to the ferry. “Just so you know, I’m the staff. Me and Mrs. Hawkins. Don’t upset her, Aileen. She’s been very kind.”

“Annie, I never meant
 
—”

Annie picked up the scarf Aileen had dropped and pushed it toward her, muffling whatever it was she was going to say.

11

W
HEN THEY GOT
to the house, Annie settled Aileen into her room. “Grace is another boarder, a very fine lass, and she’s to be wed soon.”

“How wonderful for her. Where is she now?”

“She is a nanny for the Parker family, four children. Most nights she comes home, but when Mr. Parker’s sister is visiting, she often stays over.”

“That sounds like so much fun. I love children.”

You are one,
Annie wanted to say. “Come on, I’ll show you the bathtub.” As she walked down the hall, she told herself that if Aileen didn’t have the courtesy to apologize for the lie that sent Annie away, she wouldn’t mention it either.

When they entered the bathroom, Aileen’s eyes grew wide. “That is where you bathe?” She unlaced her shoes and hopped into the empty tub. “’Tis so deep. What a luxury, Annie.”

“Indeed it is. A bit unlike the cattle troughs we used in Ireland. If you want hot water, we have to stoke the stove downstairs and wait for the water to heat up, and then it can be fairly slow to pump upstairs. We have to plan ahead and space out our turns.” She showed her how the faucets worked once she got out. “But you’ll be wanting a bath now, I suppose.” She wrinkled her nose, regarding her cousin.

“I suppose I do.”

“Ah, Mrs. Hawkins predicted so. The water should be ready to go.” She turned the hot faucet and the pipes moaned. Finally water came out and she put the stopper in the bottom of the tub.

Annie drew in a long breath. “Time for me to help Mrs. Hawkins put the finishing touches on supper. Can you manage, Aileen?”

“I can, thank you.”

“Aileen, tell me no one else is coming after you. Your parents, they’re staying in Ireland, aye?”

Aileen sputtered. “Of course they are, but why would you care?”

“After the way your father treated me, you should not have to ask why I don’t want him coming after me in America.” She wanted to say more but bit her lip. Aileen would deny she’d carried any responsibility, as she’d done before Annie was taken away.

“Oh, Annie Gallagher. Afraid of your own shadow, you are. Da was not happy you hardly served your penance.”

“My what? You listen to me, Aileen. I did nothing
 
—”

“That’s what he called it, not me, so. ’Tis all in the past. Johnny Flynn is as well, thanks be to God. Were you the one who called him an
eeji
t
? He was. Let’s not argue, Annie. You’re here. I’m here. They are not.”

Forget it all as though it had never happened?
Annie wanted nothing more, and she’d nearly accomplished it until Aileen tagged along to America after her. “Get comfortable with things here. I’m going to the kitchen. The back stairs are just beyond the bathroom.”

Trying to calm herself, Annie left Aileen in the bathroom and unpacked her cousin’s things, reminding herself that she was the housekeeper and she had to do her job. Among her
cousin’s clothes was a small linen bag that felt as though it had some coins inside, something only a pampered lass would have. Annie laid them on the windowsill closest to Aileen’s bed.

She rubbed the back of her neck when she came downstairs to the kitchen. The aroma of freshly baked brown bread and Mrs. Hawkins’s famous peas porridge made Annie’s stomach rumble. The porridge
 
—a combination of peas, a bit of mint from the garden, and fresh milk
 
—was one of Annie’s favorite meals. When Annie had first come to Hawkins House, Mrs. Hawkins had guessed she’d like it, saying it was what all mothers made for their wandering children when they made their way home. Annie didn’t know about that, but she did enjoy it.

Annie wrapped a towel around her hand and removed the large pot from the stove by its swinging handle, setting it on an iron trivet on the kitchen table. Mrs. Hawkins began ladling the peas porridge into the sieve, and Annie used the wooden pusher to squeeze the mixture into a clean bowl. It was a difficult process because the porridge was so thick, but well worth the effort.

When they finished, Annie, arms aching, carried the cooking pot to the sink. She nearly dropped it when loud wails erupted from the hall.

“What is the matter, love?”

Annie turned to see Mrs. Hawkins waddling through the kitchen doorway into the hall, wringing her hands within the depths of her apron.

“I’ve been robbed. My wee money sack was in my trunk and now ’tis gone!” Aileen roared.

Annie bit the inside of her cheek. “Calm down, Cousin. I unpacked your trunk while you bathed. The sack is on the windowsill. No one has robbed you. You forget where you are.” And a long time Aileen had been in that bath too. Annie had done all that and helped prepare peas porridge in that time.

Aileen sniffed. “I could go back if I’ve a mind to.”

“Then go.”

Annie’s wee cousin scrunched up her face. “You’d like to go home, wouldn’t you, Annie? But there is no one there who will have you.”

Annie glared at her, ready to ignore the presence of her employer and show the lass where her place was. “I’ll deal with you later,” she mumbled. She turned and carried the pot of porridge to the dining room. Just as she got to the hall, Grace entered.

As if to answer Annie’s silent question, Grace explained her presence while she hung up her coat. “Mr. Parker took the children on an outing to the park. Said they’d be having sausages and pretzels from the vendor for supper and didn’t need me the rest of the day. He’s been trying to spend more time with them since . . .”

Annie knew she meant since the children’s mother had passed away. “Aye, I suppose so,” Annie answered. “That’s good.”

“Aye, ’tis. And I’m happy for it today. I’m knackered. Interviewed five potential nannies, and either the children did not like them or the other way round.”

“I do hope you can find a proper nanny to take your place, Grace.”

“From your lips to God’s ears, so.”

God wasn’t on speaking terms with Annie, it seemed.

Grace helped her set the table. Annie was thankful Aileen hadn’t followed her. She seemed to be having a conversation with the Hawk back in the kitchen.

“’Twill need to be someone young with a lot of energy, so.” Grace poured herself a glass of water. “But somehow all the applicants I’ve received are doddery and somber. The children need so much more than that.”

Grace had been working long hours. Not even the children’s
aunt’s visit had shortened her days. Four children to care for. Annie could not imagine it. It was good Grace was getting some time off. “Go freshen up before dinner, Grace. We don’t need help.”

Aileen cleared her throat behind Annie. Annie took a step to the side. “This here is my cousin Aileen herself.”

“Just come from Ireland, are you? You are very welcome here, Aileen.” Grace greeted her as though they were friends already.

Aileen’s face revealed a thin smile.

Annie tried to relax her shoulders as she walked back to fetch the rest of the supper. Aileen stopped her. “I apologize. My temper. I didn’t mean no one wanted
 
—”

Annie nodded. “Never mind.” The sound of the front door opening and closing caused them both to turn in that direction. Kirsten marched in. Without comment, the lass climbed the stairs.

Mrs. Hawkins edged past Annie with a pot of tea. “She’s home early and about time. I telephoned over to the factory and gave Mr. Watson, her boss, an earful.”

“I’ll get her.”

Mrs. Hawkins shook her head. “We won’t wait. The porridge will get cold. She’ll come down if she’s hungry, love.”

It was true that peas porridge was not as good cold. Grace left her conversation with Aileen and helped carry in the last of the hot dishes, and they sat down, joining Aileen, who seemed to think she was to be served.

Mrs. Hawkins clicked her spoon against her glass, and Grace and Aileen finally ceased their chattering. “Let us thank God for our bounty.” She bowed her head and proceeded. When she finished, she tapped her fingers together. “Now, let’s eat. Who’s hungry?”

The pipes overhead began to rattle. Annie looked up. “Is she
taking a bath now?” Aileen had surely used all the water they had heated earlier.

Mrs. Hawkins put a hand on Annie’s arm. “Perhaps you better go check, love. She might be ill.”

Annie glanced down at her untouched porridge and pushed back her chair. When she got to the bathroom, the door was locked. She knocked. “Kirsten? Are you ill?” She held her ear to the door.

The reply was faint. “Go away.”

“What is the matter?”

“Annie, go, please.”

“At least let me get you some warm water. The bathwater must be terribly cold.”

She heard the faucet squeal, and the banging pipes silenced. The smell of Vaseline wafted from within.

“What are you doing, Kirsten? Let me help you.”

“You can’t help.”

The door suddenly opened and Kirsten stood there, hair dripping, a towel wrapped around her body.

“Let me go get some hot water.”

Kirsten pulled her into the room and shut the door.

Although the girl’s hair was flung over her face, Annie thought she noticed something amiss. She reached up and pushed away a few strands. She gasped. “What happened to you? Did someone attack you on the street?”

Kirsten turned away and cranked the faucet on. The pipes shook once again. Kirsten stuck both hands under the faucet and shivered. “I lost my job, Annie.”

“Why? What happened?” Annie grabbed another towel from the stack she had earlier left on a shelf near the window. Wrapping it around Kirsten’s shoulders, she urged the girl away from the water.

“I was bad.”

“You are not bad. Tell me what happened.”

Kirsten turned toward her and flipped her hair back, revealing several fresh bruises. “A good girl doesn’t tempt men.” She dropped to the linoleum floor beside the tub.

Her words sent Annie right back to Ireland and the doctor’s office.
“A sinner of the worst kind.”

“What are you saying?”

“He . . . How do I say it? . . . He forced himself on me.”

“Nay. Who? The fellow you thought was following you?”

“
Nein.
My boss.”

“Mr. Watson . . . hurt you. Did he . . . did he violate you, Kirsten?” She gripped Kirsten’s hands.

“Ja.”
She sobbed into her towel.

“I am so sorry for this trouble, Kirsten.” She thought about the man who had come around with questions. “The man you thought followed you earlier, Kirsten, was he a Pinkerton?”

“A what?”

“A detective. Those men . . . they conspired against you, I daresay. This was not your fault.” Even as Annie said that, she fought the urge to sink back to the place she’d taken her mind to when she was in the Magdalene Laundry, but she was losing the battle. To escape to that dreamworld meant one could not control what was happening, and Kirsten needed Annie to have her wits about her now. She swallowed the salty taste in her mouth. “You . . . uh, Kirsten . . . you did not invite this attention, isn’t that so?”

Kirsten nodded, sucking in her lower lip. “You will not want to be in my company anymore, Annie. Neither will the others. I am a bad influence on
gut
Christian women.”

“You are here to cleanse your sins, child.”

Annie’s knees began to ache from the memory. She had to sit down on the floor. “We . . . we cannot allow this, Kirsten.”

“It is done, Annie. I am a soiled woman. Without this job, Jonas and I . . . It was the only way . . .” She could not continue.

What had happened to Kirsten had nearly happened to Annie, and all her efforts to put it in the past failed in that moment.

“You listen to me, lass,” Neil snarled. “Forget about your dead father. He left ye nothing. You’re alone, see? I’ve no obligation to care for a Protestant.”

She started to jump out of the wagon. He caught her around the waist and tugged her back. Then he kept one arm around her until they reached the laundry the nuns ran. “Your new home,” he said.

Neil left her sitting in a hall with a handful of other girls. They stared, waiting for her explanation, the girls wearing identical slack, drab gowns. They’d already shared their reasons for being there: a petty theft, a pregnancy, a father who had knocked teeth out and might do worse next time. Now it was Annie’s turn.

“I should not be here.”

“And we should?” a dark-haired lass asked. “Why are you so special?”

“I don’t mean that. I’m here because of a misunderstanding. My uncle brought me here because my cousin said . . . uh . . . a lad she courted, he kissed me against my will and Aileen said ’twas my fault. Vengeful, she was.”

One of the girls shrugged. “Happens all the time, don’t you know.”

“But my uncle stole from me. As soon as I explain so, I’ll be off.”

The one expecting a babe looked away.

The toothless girl spoke up. “Maybe we’ll all get out when we explain ourselves.”

The girl with the full, round belly sighed.

“Shh. Here she comes.”

The nun returned and bid Annie to follow her. The sound of an iron door scraping across the concrete floor sent shivers up Annie’s spine. She hadn’t thought the place would be this . . . this repugnant. Pink flowers bloomed outside the door, but not a ray of sun entered this hall. A shadowy evil dripped from every crevice of the stone tunnel the nun led her down. When they got to the end, another spine-curdling scraping of a door. They stood inside a room with a table, an open cabinet filled with metal objects and jars stuffed with cotton, and a desk where a man sat staring up at them.

“The doctor will see you now,” the nun told her.

“I . . . uh, I don’t need a doctor. There was a mistake.”

“This one, is she unsoiled?” the doctor asked.

The nun shook her head and backed out of the room.

“Come here,” the man said, holding out his hand like . . . like the caring father Annie had just lost. “You can explain yourself to me.”

“I’m not to stay here long,” she said, worrying about what kinds of things the instruments on the shelves had been used for. “My uncle . . . he doesn’t want me, but I can take care of myself
 
—”