Gracie (13 page)

Gracie was just a second away from giving her tactless sister a good clip round the ear but she bit back the response she wanted to give. She didn’t want an argument that she knew she would lose in her frame of mind.

‘Of course I’m still working, we need the money – but not for much longer. And I’m here doing nothing because today’s my day off,’ Gracie snapped. ‘I’m just lucky that I work where I do and that Ruby is so understanding. Most of the time I manage reception and do some office stuff, though if truth be told I sit behind the desk feeling sick and being no use to anyone.’

‘I could help out there if you like, you could put your feet up more often then?’

‘You’ve got your own job,’ Gracie replied.

‘I know but I hate it at that bloody Ecko factory, it’s just so boring. The only good thing there is the social club. I’d much rather wander round a hotel looking important like you do. Anyway, I have to change my job …’ Jeanette opened her eyes wide and bit her lip. ‘Gracie, I’ve called the wedding off! Mum and Jenny have both gone mad, I’m really in the doghouse with everyone and it’s difficult with Mick working at Ecko and being my boss and all …’

‘What went wrong? I thought it was all on for a big flash double wedding?’ Gracie asked her sister, more out of politeness than actual interest.

‘Boring. He became so bloody boring. It was fun being engaged at the start but then I got to know him!’ Jeanette laughed loud and hard, and Gracie found herself joining in. ‘I did the right thing and gave him the ring back, but now I’m in a fix because he’s still my boss and I’ve dumped him from on high. I was sort of hoping you’d see your way to helping me out.’

Gracie shook her head. ‘So you’re here because you want a job? You didn’t just come to see how I am? What a surprise …’

Jeanette laughed and batted her eyelashes. ‘I did want to see how you are, really I did, but I also thought I could kill two birds with one stone. Or three birds! A job would be nice, thank you very much, but mostly I really need somewhere to live for a bit. Mum’s being such a cow over the wedding and everything. She and Jen are like a pair of old crones together.’

‘Well, I don’t know where you can go. I hope you weren’t thinking about staying at the hotel, that’s not allowed …’

‘No, I wasn’t thinking of the hotel. Gracie, you’ve got a spare room, can’t I stay here? Just for a while. I can pay rent and that’ll help you when you have to stop working.’

Gracie looked at her sister and laughed.

‘Jeannie, I give you top marks for bare-faced cheek. I never see you and then you turn up bold as brass and want me to give you a job and somewhere to live? You’ve got more front than Woolworths …’

‘I know, but you love me for it,’ Jeannie grinned. ‘Will you think about it? Please? I’ll go nuts if I have to listen to Mum and Jen going on and on about how selfish and horrible I am for mucking up their wedding plans. Never mind my feelings; and then at work I’ve got Mick looking sadly at me like a stray mongrel staring at a pig’s trotter in the butcher’s window. Pleeeease?’

Gracie didn’t want to smile but she couldn’t help herself. Her younger sister had always been able to equally annoy and amuse her, right from the moment the twins had developed very different personalities. It had upset her that she had seen so little of them after the St Angela’s episode, her mother had seen to that, but after the fragile peace was brokered by the family going to the wedding she had at least had a little more contact with both her sisters.

‘I’ll think about it, okay? But it will only be for a little while, until you find somewhere yourself, because we’ll need the room once the baby’s here. And it would have to be up to Sean as well. We make decisions together.’

Gracie wasn’t convinced she could cope with having her buoyant younger sister living there but she didn’t feel well enough for a pleading session so it was easier at that moment to take the line of least resistance. And she could also see the benefit of some extra money coming in.

‘Where’s Sean now?’ Jeanette suddenly asked. ‘Is he at work?’

‘Yes, but he’ll be home in an hour, and now you’ve reminded me I’d better go and start getting the dinner ready. Sean hates it when his dinner isn’t on the table,’ Gracie answered, hoping Jeanette would take the hint and leave but instead she jumped up.

‘I’ll do dinner for you. Tell me what it’s going to be and I’ll do it. You stay there and keep your feet up; it’ll help that bloody awful swelling go down.’

Gracie was momentarily lost for words. Whereas Jennifer had always been caring and domesticated, Jeanette never usually did anything of her own volition, even when she was after something. But the thought of not having to drag herself into the kitchen was just too appealing for her to turn the offer down.

‘Are you sure? I made the steak and kidney pie yesterday, it’s in the larder, but if you can peel the spuds and shell the peas – that’d be a help.’

‘Whatever you need doing, I’ll do it. You look so rough …’ Jeannie pulled a face. ‘Sorry, no offence, but you do look dead on your feet. I don’t like seeing you looking so worn out, it’s not like you.’

With that, Jeanette disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Gracie sitting with her feet up, feeling relieved and just a bit mean. She knew Jeanette was trying to get round her and she was taking advantage of it because she felt so unwell.

It was proving to be a difficult pregnancy, which was a disappointment, because Gracie had been looking forward to being able to do everything properly instead of hiding it all away. She had wanted to savour her pregnancy, talk about it and enjoy the process but instead she had ended up hating every minute. From the early sickness that never went away, through to the grossly swollen ankles and aching back, she could only imagine how bad it would get in the run-up to the birth. She had never anticipated it being such a trial, especially after remembering the ease of the first pregnancy which she’d successfully hidden for nearly the whole duration.

It was also a disappointment to her that Sean, the man who had wanted the baby as much as she had, was acting as if her sickness was an irritant to him. Instead of understanding he was either snappy to the point of rude or else he took no notice of her. She justified it to herself as him being over-tired from working so hard but it hurt her nonetheless. That wasn’t how she had envisaged her married life would be.

She could hear Jeanette pottering in the kitchen and although she knew exactly what her motive was, Gracie decided to savour the moment. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes but instead of peace wafting over her there was once again guilt and memories; all she could think about was that the way she was feeling was retribution for giving baby Joseph up.

As Gracie started to doze off, it all came flooding back …

Gracie’s welcome to St Angela’s mother and baby home had been even more frosty and judgemental than she had dreaded on the almost-silent journey there in Father Thomas’s old boneshaker of a car.

Her mother had thrown a few things into a small case, handed it to her at the top of the stairs and then turned away, leaving Gracie to follow Father Thomas out to the car alone. Just before she climbed in she looked up at the window and saw her mother peering around the edge of the lace curtain, but the second Dot McCabe saw her daughter she dropped the curtain, without acknowledging her.

The priest had indicated to her to sit in the back and she had sat bolt upright behind him, clasping her suitcase to her chest throughout the journey, which seemed to take forever. She had actually wanted it to take forever because she didn’t ever want to arrive at her destination, but eventually the car slowed right down. Gracie’s heart started to pound as they turned off the narrow country lane, pulled into a wide gravelled driveway and stopped in front of an imposing pair of iron gates. They were ornate, tall and wide and were boarded from behind, so no one could see what was on the other side. The high ivy-covered brick wall either side of the gates disappeared off into the distance and was bordered on the inside by tall conifers. Not knowing exactly what was behind the gates made it seem both attractive and frightening at the same time. It could have been either a lovely country house or a ghostly mansion like the ones in the horror films Gracie had seen at the cinema.

‘This is St Angela’s convent where you’ll be staying until after … well, you’ll be staying here until everything is dealt with and you can go back home again,’ the priest said, as an elderly man with his head bowed and eyes averted opened one of the gates wide to let the car through, then quickly closed it again. ‘You know this is the only option for a young girl like yourself? It’s not a punishment, Gracie, it’s a solution and I hope you never find yourself doing something so wrong again.’

‘No, Father …’ Gracie had answered, without really listening.

Driving slowly along the unmade drive that led up to the house, she had been a little reassured by the sight of the grand old building that stood in the centre of what could have been a park. For a moment she was almost relieved; she had been expecting to be confronted by a prison or a workhouse. But although it looked impressive, the silence was eerie, and there wasn’t a single person to be seen either in the grounds or at the windows.

Again fighting her urge to run somewhere, anywhere, Gracie had walked up the steps to the double front doors of the main entrance, alongside Father Tom, his hand resting reassuringly on the small of her back. He rang the bell and they waited until a door was opened by a woman in ordinary clothes, who silently waved them into the vast unfurnished lobby, where the tiled floor echoed their every footstep.

The moment the door had banged shut three nuns appeared as if from nowhere, hands clasped and heads bowed in front of the priest. But while he was greeted as a visiting dignitary by the deferential Mother Superior and taken straight to her office, Gracie had been quickly bundled off in the opposite direction with a nun either side of her. Although they walked close to her, neither of them touched her or looked at her. Gracie felt as if she was carrying a communicable disease rather than a baby.

She was marched along in silence by the two women who, in their black and white floor-length habits, seemed to be floating as they swept quickly along the corridor, with a pregnant Gracie trying hard to keep up. When they reached the end of the second corridor one of them said ‘Stop’ in a voice that made Gracie immediately pause in her tracks. They turned sideways in unison and one of them produced a key from inside her habit, unlocked the door and gently pushed Gracie into a small windowless room that resembled a prison cell. There was a narrow bench running along the wall and a trolley in the corner that was covered over with a cloth.

‘Do not speak,’ Gracie was told when she tried to ask what was going to happen to her. ‘While you are here you do exactly as you’re told, and you’ll be treated without fear or favour by everyone here. Silence is not a request, it’s an order. You only speak when spoken to and follow our orders to the letter.’

She was then given sharply issued instructions on what to do and as the nuns left the room, Gracie heard the click of the key being turned.

As she had been told, she unpacked the limited contents of her small suitcase and laid them out on the bench before undressing down to her underwear and sitting alongside them in her bra, vest and knickers, none of which fitted her anymore. She felt like a child back at school as she sat quietly and waited, aware that compliancy was the best option if she wanted to get through her time there.

It seemed like hours before a different nun arrived, by which time Gracie was shivering uncontrollably and terrified, but this one was more kindly and stated that she had nursing training, before asking a few questions. Some of the questions were intimate but Gracie quickly realised that the young nun was more embarrassed than she was and that made it slightly easier for her. She whipped the cloth off the tray which held a few medical instruments and a clipboard on which she wrote Gracie’s name in large letters, before scribbling down some other details that Gracie couldn’t read.

After the questions the kindly nun handed her a grey itchy blanket to wrap around herself and then very superficially examined her before making some more notes. Then she read aloud the rules of the convent that applied to everyone, and which were to be obeyed at all times.

After this, she handed Gracie a coverall ankle-length navy blue smock with a high neck and wrist-length sleeves, three pairs of navy blue knickers, two large vests and a pair of ill-fitting lace-up shoes. The final item, which had very nearly made Gracie laugh, was a pair of muddy coloured and well-darned thick lisle stockings, with nothing to hold them up.

‘This will be your uniform while you are here. Your own clothes are to be packed away and the case handed over to Sister in charge of your dormitory. You can use your own toothbrush if you have one but everything else is shared.’

‘Yes, Sister,’ Gracie answered respectfully as she had been instructed. The nun was a young woman who was probably not much older than herself, and Gracie tried not to stare at her, but her natural curiosity made her watch surreptitiously and wonder what would have made her take such a drastic step. The nun’s face was expressionless but her voice was gentle as she examined Gracie and gave her the instructions and timetable that went along with life at St Angela’s.

When she left, locking the door behind her, Gracie put the clothes on, sat back down on the bench and waited again. She closed her hands into fists and forced her fingernails into her palms, determined not to shed a single tear while she was there.

A different nun again came to take Gracie through the main building, to a part of the house that had been divided into two large dormitories.

‘You will be in this dormitory as you are so advanced. I am the nun in charge and if you abide by the rules then your time here will pass far quicker than if you get it into your head to go against me. You have to remember,
your
behaviour brought you here, not us.’