Cathy Sharp - The Orphans of Halfpenny Street

Rose swallowed hard, nails turned into the palms of her hands as she battled with the urge to tell this woman just what she thought of her. She hated being made to feel she was begging, but what was her alternative? Giving up her dreams wasn’t an option and she wouldn’t do it.

‘Please, would you consider taking her? She has nowhere else to go and I have to take up my place as a nurse in the hospital next week. I could bring her here on Monday morning. My mother has to go away. She has advanced TB.’ Rose spoke as calmly as she could manage, holding back the caustic comments that rose all too easily to her mind.

‘I hope neither you nor your sister is infected? I suppose you’ve been checked?’ Rose nodded. ‘We’ve got enough problems as it is …’ Sister Beatrice made a noise of frustration as someone knocked, barking out that whoever it was might enter. ‘Oh, it’s you, Angela. I’ve been waiting for those updated lists all afternoon …’

‘Sorry, Sister,’ the elegant woman in a silver-grey dress said apologetically. ‘I wanted to get it right and it was rather a muddle …’ She broke off as she saw the indignant look in Sister’s eyes. ‘We’ve had a lot of coming and going recently.’

‘I am well aware of that – tell me, what beds are available on the girls’ ward, aged about …’ She glanced down at a paper on her desk. ‘Eight, this says … is that right, Miss O’Hanran?’

‘Mary Ellen will be nine in two weeks’ time.’

‘Near enough then. Well, what is the situation?’

Rose thought how rude she was and felt sorry for the woman who might be her secretary, though she was very well-dressed for such a position; she looked a bit uncertain as she shuffled her papers while the Sister drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair.

‘We have two emergency beds in the sick ward …’

‘No use, we have to keep those in case we need them. What else?’

‘There is a bed free but in the ward with the nine- to twelve-year-olds …’

‘Well, I suppose that would do at a pinch.’ Sister Beatrice glared at Rose. ‘You are certain she doesn’t have an aunt who would look after her – or a kind neighbour? Children are better in their own surroundings if at all possible.’

‘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.