Page 31 of Hidden Daughters

‘I wouldn’t know where to start. I fled to America and tried to forget about that time in my life. But now I need your help. I’m getting married and this secret is weighing heavy on my heart.’

Against her better judgement, Lottie felt inclined to help him. Mainly because she was intrigued by his story. ‘Tell me about this convent.’

‘It was a big building with a massive basement where the equipment was housed. You know, the old-fashioned washing machines and rollers for drying linen, but on an industrial scale. I’ve seen the photos online. You can check them out.’

‘Is the place still standing?’

‘Yes, though it’s been abandoned and neglected. Not far from here at all and not that far from Knockraw either, as the crow flies. The graveyard is still there. You can see it for yourself. But I believe a lot more died who didn’t get a headstone.’

‘A dark time in our history,’ she said, feeling some of that darkness fall as a cloak around her shoulders. She shuddered. ‘What was the convent called?’

‘It bore the name of the order of nuns that ran it. Sisters of Forgiveness. If you can get your head around that.’

‘And you haven’t told Grace any of this?’

‘No. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. I had put it all behind me and hadn’t thought of it in years, but then Grace started saying she’s still young and wants to have a family. The thing that haunts me is that I might already have a child out there somewhere, and if he or she is still alive, I want to know about them. And if they were born and died there… I also need to know what happened. Do you get me?’

‘I do, but I’m not sure what I can do for you. As I said, there have been investigations, commissions, reports. Have you read those?’

‘A little. But they didn’t help me. You could look for the records. I read how you uncovered what happened to your brother in that St Angela’s place in Ragmullin. How you found his bones buried on that land. You could find out what happened to Mary Elizabeth and our baby.’

‘Bryan, I think you have to speak to Grace about this.’

‘I will, maybe. First, though, I need to know that you’ll help me find out what happened.’

‘I can’t promise you a good result, but I’ll see if I can dig up anything.’

‘That’s good enough for me.Go raibh míle maith agat.Thank you.’ He shook her hand, formally, as if they had sealed a deal, then turned and walked slowly back to the house.

She looked over the wall at the fields falling away to the sea below. A massive seagull swooped over her head, its huge webbed feet and harsh squawking causing her to duck reflexively.

Was that an ominous warning?

She hoped not.

She knew full well what happened when you stoked the fires of the past. Usually it wasn’t good.

THE PAST

This was not how she’d imagined giving birth to her child. Within cold, bare walls. Surrounded by iron-faced nuns with stiff wimples, ratty veils and camphor-smelling gowns.

Despite everything, she wanted her family by her side.

She wanted him too. He had promised. Hadn’t he?

Another pain ripped through her and she felt the urge to push the child out of her body.

‘Not so fast,’ one of the nuns said. She had no idea which one. They all looked the same.

‘It’s coming!’ she yelled.

Unable to hold on for a second longer, she gritted her teeth and pushed with the little strength she had left.

Then… relief. The pain was gone. The child was out. She could fall into a restful sleep. But there was pushing and shoving around the bed. Heads bowing and looking, and then she felt towels or sheets being bundled up under her legs.

Where was her baby? Was it a boy or a girl? She wanted to ask these questions, but all her strength seemed to have left her body.

They wouldn’t tell her anything, just whisked the baby away from her after cutting the cord. She thought she would die from the heartache.

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