The Family Way (Molly Murphy, #12)

“Oh, it’s not bad,” Gerda said. “Come on. I’ll show you where things are kept. You’ll have to go down there all the time when you’re on kitchen duty.”


She went across the room and into a scullery where clean plates were drying on a rack beside the sink. In one corner a stair led down by the outside wall of the building. I followed her cautiously, then saw that the stair was broad and smooth from continuous wear. What’s more it consisted of six steps, then a little landing, then a ninety-degree turn, and six more down to a narrow room. It also had a good handrail. Surely nobody could have fallen to their death down these stairs?

And when I reached the cellar I saw that it had a high window near the ceiling that let in a shaft of natural light. Gerda went ahead of me, took a dipper from the wall, and ladled milk from a churn into a tin mug. “Here you go. Get that down you,” she said. “We also keep the meat, fish, and fruit down here. As you can see it’s always cool. Apart from that window it’s all underground, sort of cut into the hillside.”

I was staring up at that window. If I piled boxes on the kitchen table it was just possible that I could reach it. However was it wide enough for me to climb through in my present state? And there didn’t appear to be any way to open it—unless I smashed it. I tucked it away as a last chance solution. I drank the milk gratefully, then came up the steps again to the kitchen. After I had eaten heartily of bread and cheese I supposed I should go out to the garden again to do more fruit picking, but it was the first time I’d found myself alone.

As I came out of the kitchen I could hear the sound of chanting coming faintly from the chapel. I went over to try the door for myself. It was indeed locked. I wondered if Sister Jerome was in there with the other nuns. I was sure the door locking must be her idea. I wondered if the other nuns had any idea that she went to such great effort to make sure that none of her charges escaped. But then of course they would all be glad of the money that our babies brought into the convent. They might know everything that was going on with us. If only I could find a chance to talk to one of them.…

I walked the length of the downstairs hallway but found no door apart from the one that led through to the chapel and the nuns’ part of the building. I went through to the extra wing that contained the laundry room downstairs and the maternity ward upstairs. Again I could hear the pathetic cry of a newborn. I felt a wave of contraction through my own body in reaction and tears came into my eyes. I could feel all too strongly what it would be like to go through the pains of labor, to hold a precious child in my arms, and know that it was about to be taken from me. No wonder Maureen changed her mind.

I have to get out of here now, I thought. The only windows in the laundry room opened onto the garden with its high wall. It seemed my only option was the chapel. If I could find somewhere to hide when the nuns weren’t occupying it, then I could slip out while they were concentrating on their office. I hadn’t really taken in the details but surely chapels always had side altars and statues and banks of candles—and enough shadow to hide me. If they were currently chanting in there then the next opportunity would be when they returned for the next service at eight o’clock tonight. Elaine had said there was one office every four hours, day and night. Nighttime would be a better idea, as I could melt into shadow more easily in a poorly lit building.

As I stood looking out of the laundry room window I noticed a patch of bare earth. It looked as if someone had started to build something—maybe a raised bed for vegetables. Not deep enough to bury anybody, Elaine had said. And then suddenly a thought came to me, so awful and violent that I had to grab onto the window ledge to support myself. Another patch of bare earth and the maid Anna saying that Mrs. Mainwaring had suddenly taken it into her head to build a summer house. Mrs. Mainwaring, usually so cold and withdrawn, who had been quite emotional that Maureen had not returned. I had been blind and na?ve about the Mainwarings’ baby. Had I been equally blind about what happened to Maureen? What if she had returned to the Mainwarings unexpectedly and tried to take back her baby? And what if the Mainwarings weren’t about to give it up and had killed her … and buried her on their own property, building a summer house to cover the evidence forever? Now that this thought had entered my head it seemed entirely possible. Perhaps Mrs. Mainwaring did meet Maureen when she came to the convent and the almighty row Maureen had was with her former employer. What if Mrs. Mainwaring took the baby and Maureen followed, tried to take her child back and …

I now had an even stronger reason to get out of here immediately. I had to tell Daniel right away and let him take it from here.