Sins of the Mother (8 page)

All around me the air was filled with the terrible screams and wailing of my brothers and sisters as we were dragged, carried and heaved out of the courtroom and into police cars. Blind with
rage and terror, I felt the cold Dublin air hit my calves. And still I struggled and still I called out to my mammy. The hands under my arms were too strong for me. I wriggled left and then right,
I tried to reach for a face to claw at, I tried to kick out but I couldn’t find anything.
Where are they taking me? Where is my mammy?
I screamed for her over and over: ‘Mammy!
Mammy! Mammy!’

Moments later, I was plonked down into the back seat of a police car and I looked over. Next to me was a furious Peter, shouting like crazy. My missing shoe was thrown in after me then Martin
and Agatha quickly followed – they were red-faced with anger, howling their heads off. The car door was slammed shut, the driver started up the engine and, in no time, we were gone.

‘Would you all just SHUT UP!’ the policeman in the front passenger seat exploded once we had driven a few minutes away from the court. ‘I’ve got your little sister here
and she does not enjoy listening to your caterwauling. Just put a sock in it. It’s not going to make a blind bit of difference anyways so have some thought for her and keep it
down.’

It was enough to get us to stop shouting – I hadn’t realized Cecily was upfront with the policeman. I didn’t know what was happening at all. Martin squirmed next to me, Agatha
sniffed and Peter punched the car door with his fist.

‘Jesus!’ he fumed, only quietly this time.

‘Do you know where we’re going, Peter?’ I whispered but he just shook his head. I was scared now. I didn’t know what to expect. We’d been sent to children’s
homes before but never like this – never from a courtroom. There was something very different about the way this had happened, very final. And Frances wasn’t with us this time
either.

The car wound its way through the streets of Dublin and for a while we all just sat silently in the back, watching the city fall away behind us, lost in our own thoughts. I was counting the
minutes since we had last seen our mother, trying to memorize the streets we had passed so I knew how to get home. I bit down hard on my bottom lip and felt a familiar twinge in the pit of my
stomach. I hadn’t eaten for a couple of days and I was starving. Wherever they were taking us, I just prayed they had nice food. Or any food for that matter.

Finally, we turned off the main road and up a driveway surrounded on either side by well-mown lawns. The car slowed and then I saw on our left-hand side a large chestnut horse.
It had been grazing but now it looked up as we passed by and I noticed a white stripe down its nose.

‘It’s okay,’ I whispered to Agatha. I felt comforted by the sight of nature. ‘It’s going to be okay, Agatha. Look! Look – there’s a horse there. They
only have horses in nice places, don’t they? So this is going to be a nice place.’

The car rolled slowly towards a huge, imposing grey building. The closer we got, the bigger it seemed to get and I could clearly see now that on one side there were the unmistakable tall slim
windows and arches of a church.

‘Are you sure?’ Agatha whimpered as the car came to a stop and three nuns glided towards us. ‘Do you really think so, Irene?’

I reached down now and carefully put my left shoe back on.

‘Yes. We’ll be okay. I’m sure of it. They’ve got a horse.’

6

IRENE

St Grace’s

The policeman opened the door of the car and barked at us to all get out – now I felt scared but I tried not to show it. I didn’t know where we were or why we were
here but it wasn’t a very friendly place. The three nuns standing at the entrance to the grey stone building wore very stern expressions. I’d seen nuns in church before but they
didn’t look like this – so big and severe, covered head to toe in black. And I’d never really met one in person.

The one in the middle, the tallest one, addressed us: ‘Follow me, children!’

And with that she turned briskly on her heels and marched into the large building. They were all wearing black habits and I could see nothing except their black shoes peeking out from underneath
and long black rosary beads hanging from big black belts at their waists. We had no choice but to run behind her as the other two nuns walked alongside us.

I couldn’t believe how big this place was – I’d never seen anything so huge. As we walked through the corridor we were passed on all sides by children scurrying back and forth.
They looked very serious. Some seemed to be carrying mops and buckets, others held books, but they all looked down at the floor and no one stopped to say hello.

At the end of the long corridor we came to a huge bathroom, where there were sinks and taps along one wall, another row of sinks in the middle of the room and, at the back, a row of shower
cubicles. The whole place stunk of carbolic soap.

‘Get undressed please!’ the tall nun addressed us again. None of us moved.

Suddenly I realized Peter was missing and there was no sign of Cecily. ‘Where’s my brother Peter?’ I asked. ‘And where’s the baby?’

The nun seemed cross with me and she sighed before answering: ‘Cecily has gone to the nursery and your brother is being housed in appropriate accommodation for a boy his age. Now, no more
questions – come on. Clothes off!’

We took our clothes off slowly and reluctantly – too slowly. The nuns started to grab at us and pulled our dresses and our vests up over our heads. I didn’t like it. Then they told
me, Martin and Agatha to get into one of the showers and turned on the water, which was freezing at first. We were ordered to scrub ourselves with soap. I felt shy standing naked in front of these
nuns. After we’d finished, we were each handed a small rough green towel – it was so hard it felt like we were drying ourselves with sandpaper.

‘Ow, Jesus!’ I exclaimed.

‘Hush! None of that blasphemous language here, child!’ one of the other nuns chided.

‘But it feels like my skin’s being torn off with this towel.’

‘Quiet – now come here.’

The nun had a big brush on her with some strange pinky lotion which she started to paint onto each of us in big strokes, covering our whole bodies. It felt really wet and cold.

‘What’s this?’ I asked.

‘It’s calamine lotion. Just in case you’ve got scabies.’

‘I ain’t got that.’

‘You might. And you might have nits too – we need to check you over.’

It seemed to go on forever – we were painted with the lotion, still naked, then the nuns grabbed us each by the head and checked our hair. Finally, we were each presented with fresh
clothes. I looked over at Agatha – she looked scared stiff.

‘Where’s me old dress?’ I asked.

‘In the incinerator,’ the tall nun said. ‘It was filthy and probably infested with lice. Put these clean clothes on.’

So we dressed in the new clothes – the harsh fabric of the brown smock and green cardigan itched my skin but at least they were clean, like the nun said. I looked around for my shoes then
but all I saw was a pair of dull brown T-bars.

‘My shoes?’ I asked.

‘Gone. Put those on.’

Now I really felt like crying – I loved my shiny black shoes so much! But I managed to hold the tears back as I buckled on the brown shoes. I didn’t like the look of them: they were
so dull, so ordinary compared to my lovely patent ones. I waggled my toes – actually, they felt really roomy and at least these ones stayed on my feet. They weren’t the most beautiful
things I’d ever seen but it was nice to have a pair of decent shoes that were in good condition.

Once we were all dressed the smaller nun with the pretty face and pink cheeks marched us out of the bathroom and back out to the corridor. I knew it was getting on for tea-time because my
stomach was growling angrily. Children jostled past us now, and I could see we were all headed for the same place – the dining room. They were actually going to feed us here! But the moment
we walked into the enormous room with the rows and rows of long tables with benches either side, my stomach turned over.
Oh my God – the stench! It’s awful
.

At home there was a farmer who lived round the back of our estate and every few days he’d go round the street with his horse and cart loaded with two big barrels, collecting all the
leftover food for the pigs. We knew when the farmer was out collecting the leftovers because the smell from those barrels was so strong and overpowering that it filled the streets and our nostrils
even when we were indoors. We’d run around pinching our noses and screwing up our faces with disgust. It was rotten, just rotten! Now, in that dining room, I recalled that same smell.
So
maybe those barrels weren’t for his pigs after all. Maybe
the
pigman collected
the
food for
the
orphanages and
the
pigs were going hungry?

We were shown to one of the tables and ordered to sit down as the dining room slowly filled up with children – there were loads of them, hundreds. I felt shy and embarrassed in my new
clothes as I tried to keep my head down. After a little while a bowl of food clattered down in front of each of us. I looked into it. I should have been so excited – I hadn’t eaten in
two days. But the smell coming from the stuff inside made me feel sick.

‘What is it?’ Martin whispered to me.

‘I don’t know,’ I whispered back. It was strange – like a grey, sludgy water. There were bits of stuff floating in it but I couldn’t tell what the bits were because
they were grey, green and black. It didn’t look right but I didn’t care at that moment; I was so hungry all I wanted was to stop the pain in my belly. So I picked up the spoon and
started shovelling it in. It was horrible – worse than I imagined it was going to be – and I wanted to throw up, but I managed somehow to keep it down.

I ate really quickly and afterwards I sat back, hardly satisfied but at least I had something inside me. I sniffed the air.
Mmmmm
. Something smelled good. What was it? Where was it
coming from? I looked around me. All the children had their heads down over their bowls as three nuns patrolled the rows of tables. I leaned back slightly to get a better view. Now I could see
right to the back of the room. There, at the end, was a table on a platform where all the nuns were sitting, eating their dinner. Even from where I was sitting quite far away I could see they ate
from plates, not bowls, and on those plates were the unmistakable round shapes of potatoes sticking up. I squinted a little – they had golden roast potatoes, steaming orange carrots and some
plump cuts of chicken too. In the middle of the table was a bowl – it looked like it had fluffy bread rolls in it. Ohhh, it looked so lovely, so good. My stomach started rumbling again. Now I
knew where that delicious smell was coming from. But why did they have that nice food while we had the grey slop? I looked around, hoping to see someone approaching us with bowls full of rolls, but
nobody came.

After lunch we were shown through to a large room where there were chairs all round the sides. There was nothing else there.

‘This is the sitting room,’ the small nun explained. ‘You’ll start school first thing tomorrow but for now you can stay here. The doctor has to see you later. Benediction
is at six in the evening. I’ll come and fetch you then. By the way, you can call me Sister Beatrice. Now stay there and don’t make any trouble.’

‘Excuse me, sister, what is this place?’

‘Are you really that ignorant?’ the nun sneered. I didn’t know how to reply. Nobody had told us where we were so how was I supposed to know?

‘This is St Grace’s orphanage,’ she sighed. ‘Now enough of your stupid questions. Stay here and keep your mouths shut.’

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. At some point we were shown into a room to see a doctor who asked some questions and examined us and then, later, we were taken to the church for
Benediction. Tea was a slice of stale bread and some watery cocoa then we were sent through to the sitting rooms – there were different rooms for the different ages. They were very large
rooms with parquet flooring, high ceilings and wooden stacking chairs lined up round the walls. The three of us sat very close to each other but we didn’t speak – we were too scared and
confused. I just missed Mammy and wanted to go home.

Now there were children all around me, chattering and making a noise. I suddenly felt very small and shy. I just kept my head down and tried to stay as quiet and still as possible. Later we were
shown up to the dormitories – Martin was in the boys’ one and me and Agatha were shown to the girls’ dorm where we were stripped and given a nightdress each. After we said our
prayers it was time for lights out and I was so tired I closed my eyes and felt the inevitable tug of sleep. As I drifted off, my last thought was for Mammy.
I hope she’s coming to get us
tomorrow. I don’t think I like it here . . .

‘Get up!’ a timid voice whispered in my ear. Startled, I sat bolt upright. High ceilings, rows and rows of beds?
Where am I? What is this place?
For a
moment I felt confused and then it all came flooding back. Agatha stood next to my bed, her sky blue eyes wide with fear. It was the morning now and I could see children bustling about the
dormitory, pulling on dresses, rushing to and from the bathroom at the end of the corridor.