The Family Way (Molly Murphy, #12)

“Of course not. Sister wouldn’t let her see it again. Took it and locked it up in her own room until the new mother could come for it. That’s probably why she ran away. She had nothing to stay for.”


“What are you two gossiping about?” came a shrill voice behind us, the accent still with a trace of French to it. We turned guiltily to see another nun standing behind us. She was small, thin, with dark eyes and arched eyebrows that gave her a surprised look. She looked at me with interest.

“This is Molly, a new girl, Sister,” Blanche said.

“Ah, yes.” The nun continued to examine me. “Sister Jerome informs me of your arrival.” It was hard to tell how old she was. Not that young anyway, with a sallow complexion and a thin line of mouth. “And were you not showing a bad example to the new girl by gossiping with her during silence hours, Blanche?”

She was glaring at us, those dark eyes boring through us. Blanche gave a little whimper.

“I’m sorry, Sister,” I said. “My fault. I was asking Blanche about where the laundry was done. And she said it was all right to ask questions about our tasks.”

“Yes, that is correct.” She was still staring at me. I wondered how much she had overheard. We had been talking in low voices, hardly more than whispers, but maybe she had been standing just outside the laundry closet door listening for some time. I felt ridiculously afraid.

“I am Sister Angelique, in charge of you from now on. Go into the bathroom and get yourself changed, Molly,” she said. “And then I’ll have you taken out to the garden. They could use some extra help picking beans. And you, Blanche—Sister tells me you are to move to the guest room. Are your things already packed to leave?”

“No, Sister. I haven’t had time,” she said.

“Time for idle chatter, I notice. Then hurry and do it now and then meet me down at the nun’s guest room.”

“Yes, Sister,” she said. She gave me a regretful glance and then scurried back to the dormitory. I prayed that she would remember Patchin Place and turn up on my doorstep in a few days. I didn’t think she’d be an ideal servant, but I was going to give her a chance anyway. I went into the bathroom, took off my crumpled muslin, and tucked it into my bag. Then I splashed water over my face and put on the gray dress and blue overgarment. They were made of coarse cloth, heavy and itchy. I wondered if the rest of the nuns wore silk and whether they all enjoyed a good life thanks to the donations Sister Jerome was taking in for them. So much for poverty, chastity, and obedience.

I noticed there was no mirror on the bathroom wall. Clearly vanity was a sin. I ran a brush through my hair, then, on a sudden impulse, I reached into my purse, took out my calling cards and tucked them into the pocket of my dress. I wondered if anything else might give me away. I remembered my wedding ring, and decided to remove that from my purse and hide it likewise in the pocket of my muslin with the calling cards. Luckily I had not brought too much money with me, nor any form of cosmetic that might brand me a hussy. Sister was waiting for me outside the door. I wondered if she might have been spying on me through the keyhole and seen me hide my calling cards. However she gave no hint of suspicion, but nodded in approval at the uniform. “Now you look suitable and ready for work,” she said. “Go and put that bag in the cubby beside your bed and we’ll be off.”

I did as she said, feeling awful again that this cubby had been Blanche’s until a few minutes ago. I wondered if she’d managed to find all her things, and it occurred to me that perhaps the same thing had happened to Maureen. Had she been told to vacate her bed and had to pack up her possessions so rapidly that some of them got left behind? I realized that I’d probably never know now. I had heard the same story of her quarrel and departure from three people. It had obviously been discussed among the girls so it would have come out if anyone had seen her go. I supposed it all made sense. She had no chance of saving her child and so she had simply slipped out of the place that night. Story solved. I had come all this way and gotten myself into this ridiculous situation for nothing. But then I remembered that Katy had been worried, had had something on her mind, and had ended up falling down the cellar steps.





Twenty-five