The Family Way (Molly Murphy, #12)

“I am, Sister, but I started feeling dizzy again so Sister Perpetua said I could go and lie down for a while.”


“Blanche, you have to stop this malingering,” Sister said angrily. “It won’t help you in the long run. You are fully recovered from the birth and you have to put it behind you. No amount of grieving will bring that baby back, and there is no point in wallowing in guilt and self-pity. In fact I think it would be far better for you if you went back to the outside world and got on with life.”

A terrified look came over Blanche’s face. “Don’t make me go yet, Sister. I’m not ready. I can’t face it.”

“Pull yourself together, girl,” Sister snapped. “You’ll be just fine.”

“But I’ve nowhere to go,” she wailed. “They won’t take me back at home. I’ve nobody.”

“I will give you a letter to take to my sister in New York,” Sister Jerome said. “Her convent has been most helpful in placing girls like you in domestic service. But if you can’t buck up and pull yourself together, who would want you?”

Tears were now running down Blanche’s pale face. “I try to buck up,” she said. “But I just feel so awful all the time. So sad. As if nothing good will ever happen to me again.”

“Of course it will, you silly girl. You’ll get a job and soon this will all seem like a bad dream. Now then, pack up your things and change the sheets on your bed. Molly will be sleeping here from now on.”

“Oh, Sister,” I intervened. “I’m sure I wouldn’t want to take Blanche’s bed. If she’s not feeling strong enough to go yet, then I really think she should stay. I’m sure we could find a place to put a cot for me until she’s ready. Or I could sleep on the sofa in the common room for now. I really don’t mind.”

“Blanche can sleep in the sisters’ guest room tonight, while we get together her letters of reference and a new outfit of clothes for her. Pack up your things, Blanche, and make your bed for Molly, then take her to the clothes closet and find her a uniform. I have letters to write, but I’ll be back for you in half an hour.”

As she turned to walk out of the room I heard the swish of those robes again and I realized what had struck me as strange about her from the first. Her habit was made of silk.





Twenty-four

“I’m so sorry,” I said to Blanche as soon as I heard sister’s feet going down the stairs. “I would never have turned you out. I’d rather sleep on the floor.”

She gave me a sad smile. “It’s not you,” she said. “She hates me. She can’t wait to get rid of me. It has really angered her that I’ve been allowed to stay for so long.”

“What has she got against you?” I asked as I helped her pull the sheet from the bed. She seemed a frail and delicate little thing, like an expensive French china doll.

She looked up at me. “My baby died,” she said.

“She blames herself for her own failure as a midwife?” I asked.

She shook her head. “In her mind she never fails,” she muttered. “No, she blames me because I let her down. She had a good home waiting for that particular baby, you see, and she didn’t want to lose out on that money.”

“What money?”

She moved closer to me so that our shoulders were touching. “The convent gets requests from couples who want a baby that they can pass as their own,” she said. “This couple wanted a fair-haired child with blue eyes and of course she was sure my baby would be light-haired—which it was, poor little thing.”

“And couples pay for this?”

“Oh, yes. From what we’ve heard they are asked to make a donation to the convent and sometimes it’s a generous donation. That’s why sister was so angry with me. I suppose the convent really needs the money.”

“As if you could have done anything to stop your baby from being born dead!” I said indignantly. “It must have been really upsetting for you.”

She nodded and her light blue eyes filled with tears. “I can’t seem to get over it. I hate this place, but I have nowhere to go. I don’t think I’m strong enough to get a job yet.”

I was so tempted to say that I’d take her on and look after her and nurse her back to health and wholeness, but how could I, when I was supposed to be in the same position as her.

“Look,” I said. “I think I might know some people in New York who could help you. But they won’t be home for a few days. If you go and stay with the nuns as Sister suggests, then by the end of the week you can safely go to this address and tell them that Molly sent you.”

“So what are you doing here if you have friends in New York, people who can help you?” she asked. It was a good question and I had to think before I answered.

“They are women who help destitute young girls to find employment,” I said. “They suggested I come up here to the convent and then go to them when I’ve had my baby.”

“I see.” She looked almost hopeful.