“As I think I explained, this job includes an apartment in one of our dormitories.” She looked inquiringly at Lauren, who nodded. Rent-free accommodations were definitely part of the appeal.
“The resident faculty member for each dormitory is responsible for the girls in that house—we call our dormitories houses—and will generally oversee their welfare while in the dormitory.”
Lauren wondered what welfare meant. She had a sudden vision of herself armed with a thermometer and a bottle of aspirin.
“Of course we have an infirmary,” Sister Rose said as if reading her thoughts. “You would not be responsible for the care of sick children, but you would see to it that the girls in that particular house would abide by the rules of St. Ursula’s, particularly as they pertain to curfews.”
“Are the girls allowed off school grounds?” Lauren asked.
“Yes, but there are rules regarding this as well. As you can see, we are not an easy walk into town. There is, however, a bus that runs at the base of the hill and girls do use this bus to go into town on the weekends.”
And she would have to use it, too, Lauren thought. She didn’t own a car and until this moment it hadn’t occurred to her that the job might require one. She was used to walking to the grocery store around the corner from her apartment in Hoboken, to going to the neighborhood bar for a drink in the evening. If she got this job she would be isolated during the week.
“I’m not familiar with St. Mary’s Academy,” Sister Rose said, glancing back down at the file open on her desk. “It’s outside Pittsburgh?”
Lauren nodded. The memories came in a rush. Rows of uniformed girls kneeling in the shadows of a dark church. St. Mary’s girls do not follow, they lead. A golden orb of incense swaying gently at the end of a long chain clutched in a priest’s veiny hand. The overwhelming smell of lilies.
“I see that you attended school there when you were younger, but you finished your education at a public institution?”
“Yes.” Lauren said. She’d anticipated the question, the need to know why she’d given up a religious institution for a secular one, and she’d prepared an answer. “I moved far away.”
She was sure that Sister Rose would ask more, but the headmistress just nodded briskly and looked back down at the open file.
“And you attended university in England?”
“Yes. The University of London.”
The headmistress nodded, fiddling with the thin silver chain that held a pair of black reading glasses against her chest. “Why did you choose to go overseas?”
“I’d always been interested in seeing Europe. It seemed like a great opportunity.”
Sister Rose seemed to consider this for a moment, nodding and looking down at the file in front of her. Lauren surreptitiously wiped her sweating palms against her skirt.
“And you studied history and education, but completed your teaching certificate last year once you’d come back to the United States?”
“Yes,” Lauren said, her hands relaxing against her lap. “I knew by then that I wanted to teach.”
A few perfunctory questions about her education classes and then Sister Rose abruptly closed the folder.
“Congratulations, Miss Kavanaugh. I trust you’ll be able to move in by next Tuesday at the latest?”
Lauren’s mouth fell open and then she thought how idiotic she must look and snapped it shut. “What? You mean I’ve got the job?”
Sister Rose gave her a small smile. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. I’m afraid that this interview was pro forma. I had reviewed your credentials already and quite frankly you’re the only qualified candidate available at the moment. We simply had to meet you in person to be one hundred percent sure.”
She had the job. She had a full-time teaching job! The tension in Lauren’s shoulders eased and she felt them drop a bit.
“I’m sure you’ll understand that with your relative lack of experience, we can offer this position only on a probationary basis,” Sister Rose added. The smile vanished in place of a serious look. “We will see how the first semester goes and decide at the end of it whether or not you’ll continue at St. Ursula’s.”
That stung a bit, but still—it was her first full-time teaching job! If she had to prove herself in it, well, that was probably to be expected. Any school would want to evaluate her competence.
Sister Rose abruptly stood up. Lauren scrambled to her feet, still stunned. The headmistress stuck out her hand and gave Lauren’s a surprisingly firm shake. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Kavanaugh. I look forward to your arrival next week.”
On the train journey back to her cramped apartment, Lauren replayed the interview in her head and wondered at having gotten the job. She needed it so badly and she’d gotten it.
All the way out here on the train, she’d kept up an internal pep talk, telling herself that if she didn’t get this job, there would be another. Only not this year.
It was too late for any other job to come through. The most she could have expected was for some regular teacher to go on maternity leave and free up a long-term substitute position.
So what that she had to live so far from a town. There were buses—she’d manage. And she could save money and pay off the credit card companies breathing down her neck. Every day she’d checked her messages and the mail, hoping to hear from a school, but now she wouldn’t have to bother.
Thinking of the mail reminded her of what had arrived in yesterday’s post. There’d been such a gap between this letter and the last that she’d gotten a shock when she saw the slim white envelope stuck in the middle of a pile of bills. She thought—she’d hoped—he’d forgotten all about her, but he never would.
It had taken him so long to find her and now she would be leaving again. Maybe this time he wouldn’t be able to find her. She stared out at the dirty window at the wet landscape streaking past, hands clenched in fists in her lap. Maybe at the school she would finally be safe.
Chapter Two
At night the lights go out and the school rests. From the sky, spotted by low-flying planes, it looks like some great coiled beast, the peaks of the rooftops like scales on a dragon’s back.
Lights must be out in the dormitories at ten; that is the rule and that is the official end to the day.
The first day was over. The hustle of moving in, the rush of old girls finding one another and the stress of new girls finding their way around—all of this noise was absorbed by the stone buildings and dissipated into the woods surrounding them. The day was over and everything that has happened now slipped into the past.
At night the school rests, but not everyone. There was movement in the dark hallways. Hours have passed. Those who were watching waited and then wait some more. Fifteen minutes after midnight they slip out of the doorways from different houses. They are used to carrying their shoes and stepping silently. They are used to pulling hoods over their faces.
Out of the houses they came, silent figures moving through the darkness. They don’t speak until they’re past the buildings, until they’re in the shelter of the trees.
“Hurry,” one of them said. “We’re late.” She held a small flashlight pointed at the ground. A round beam of light, eight inches across, is all that guides them. Still, they are used to this. They found the path they needed and moved along it.
“How do you know she’s even going to be here?”