‘There is no one I would trust to look after her. If there were I should not be here. God knows, it seems a terrible place … I was admitted by a girl who was scrubbing the hall floor …’
‘I resent that comment, Miss O’Hanran. We pride ourselves on giving our children the best care we can manage and on being a warm and welcoming place for those who need us. If as you say you were admitted by one of the kitchen staff, it is because things are difficult just now. We have three members of staff down with influenza, and we have some very sick children in isolation,’ Sister Beatrice said coldly. ‘Normally, Nan sees to the new arrivals at first and then the nurses and carers take over … well, do you want the place or not? I doubt you’ll find anyone else to take her.’
Rose swallowed hard. She wanted to march out right now and tell her mother that she would stay home to look after Mary Ellen, but if she did that they would never get out of the slums that her father’s untimely death had brought them to. Her chest caught with pain, because even now she couldn’t bear to think of Pa’s death and her mother’s terrible illness. Yet she knew she had spoken out of turn and must apologise.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise. Naturally, your staff problems must make things difficult.’
‘We have limited funds, Miss O’Hanran, but St Saviour’s never turns away a child that really needs us however stretched we are – so do you want her to come to us?’
‘Yes, please,’ Rose said. ‘I shall bring her next Monday morning, which is my only free time before I start my new job, if that is all right?’
‘Yes, bring her on Monday. Mrs Morton can take you down and arrange the time with you. She will be admitting your sister unless Nan is back by then. I simply do not have the time.’
Rose clamped her mouth shut, walking out before she lost her temper and told that awful old woman what she could do with her bed. If only Pa hadn’t died she could have left Mary Ellen in his care; he might have liked a drop of good Irish whiskey but he’d been fond of his daughters, especially the youngest one. Her heart ached, because it was hard to lose the people you loved, and Rose was carrying a burden that was almost too much to bear. Seeing her mother grow weaker, knowing she was probably going to die, had been made worse because she couldn’t share her grief with anyone. She had to keep the truth from Mary Ellen as long as she could.
Hearing hurried footsteps behind her, she turned to see Angela trying to keep up with her. She slowed down, because she needed to find out a few things that she hadn’t felt like asking Sister Beatrice.
‘I’m sorry,’ Angela apologised. ‘I know Sister can be a bit harsh but she has good reason for it today – we lost a child early this morning. He only came in a week ago and went down with chicken pox. Unfortunately, he was very weak and he contracted pneumonia. The nurses did everything they could but we lost him, though his elder brother and sister are recovering, I’m thankful to say.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ Rose bit her lip, because that put her firmly in the wrong and she knew she’d bordered on rudeness. ‘I didn’t realise …’ she said, but she hadn’t changed her mind about the nun. She’d made Rose feel like something dragged in off the streets and she wouldn’t take that from anyone.
‘She was up all night with him. I saw her when she left after performing the last offices; Father Joe was with her, because the boy’s family was Catholic. Sister was truly devastated, though she hides it behind a brusque manner.’
‘Well, that explains it,’ Rose said. ‘We don’t want Mary Ellen to go out for adoption. Either Ma will come home after she’s cured … or I’ll look after her once I’m in a position to do so.’
‘Yes, I think we’ve understood that,’ Angela said, checking her list. ‘She is a temporary … but she’ll need to live here until you can provide a home for her. I must take some more details and there are some forms for you to sign and then we’ll discuss what she needs to bring with her … and her feelings about coming here. Perhaps we could go back to my office and talk before you leave?’
‘Yes, all right.’ Rose realised that Mrs Morton had more authority than she had first thought and sighed; a shadow descended as she imagined her sister’s reaction to the news. ‘She can be a bit stubborn, and she isn’t going to take kindly to the idea …’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll look after her. She will soon settle in.’
The trouble was Mrs Morton didn’t know how stubborn Mary Ellen could be when she didn’t like something and Rose wasn’t looking forward to telling her the news.
Mary Ellen stared at the faces looking down at her, mutiny flaring. Rose kept on saying that she had to go into St Saviour’s until Ma returned from hospital, but something in the way her mother looked at her told Mary Ellen that Ma didn’t think she would be coming back. She could feel a sick lump in her chest and she wanted to scream and stamp her feet, but Ma looked so sad and so tired.
‘I don’t want to go,’ she mumbled in a voice barely above a whisper. ‘I want to stay here with Rose and you …’ Her eyes entreated her mother, but Ma looked as if she too wanted to cry and that was worse than all the rest. Mary Ellen longed to make her better, to bring back her loving smile, but there was nothing she could do and that hurt – it hurt so much that Mary Ellen thought she would die of it. How could they just send her away to that horrible place, as if she were an unwanted stray? She wanted to be with her mother, to feel Ma’s loving arms holding her close and see her smile. Her chest felt as if it would burst for the pain of it.
‘I can’t look after you, love,’ Ma said, and tears spilled from her eyes, dripping slowly down her pale cheeks. ‘I don’t want to leave you, Mary Ellen – but I have to go to the hospital. If I stay with you, you may get my illness and I don’t want you to suffer like me. Anything is better than that …’
Mary Ellen didn’t want that either, but she longed for Ma to laugh and take her in her arms as she had in the old days when her father was alive and Ma was always happy and singing.
‘Why can’t Rose stay and look after me?’ Mary Ellen didn’t particularly want to be in her sister’s care, because Rose was so sharp, but it was better than going away to a place she didn’t know – a home for orphans. Surely that was for kids who had no family? Mary Ellen had a mother and a sister and she wanted her own home.
‘Because Rose has worked hard to get that place in the hospital and she needs to work her way up until she’s a senior staff nurse or a sister and then she will earn enough to have a house that we can all live in. I’ll be able to move from here too, Mary Ellen. Let Rose go and do what she has to – and then we can all be together again.’
‘I would rather she stayed here until you come home from the hospital.’
‘Well, I can’t,’ Rose snapped. ‘I have to go now or not at all. Stop complaining, Mary Ellen. Ma is ill and she has to go to the hospital. She doesn’t want to go either but you don’t hear her whining and moaning. I’ve made the arrangements and I shall take you on Monday morning and that’s that.’
‘Well, I think you’re mean and rotten and …’ Mary Ellen broke off with a gasp as Rose gave her a smack round the face. Tears welled in her eyes but she didn’t sob or carry on because the slap had shocked her more than hurt her. Rose had never hit her before and something in her sister’s manner told her that she had reached the end of her tether. In that moment Mary Ellen understood that her sister was suffering too, even though she was trying not to show it. ‘I’m sorry …’
Rose was looking pale, as if she were shocked by what she’d done, and Mary Ellen felt her resistance ebbing. She’d known ever since Ma told them she had to go away that this was coming, but she’d been hoping something would happen and everything would be all right again.
‘Rose, love, don’t quarrel with your sister. It’s