remorse floated after her as she
left the room.
Chapter Six
T HE FOLLOWING WEEK IT snowed and the roads and pavements quickly became treacherous as a heavy frost set in. It was Mrs Travis’s custom to take
tea with Mother Superior at the Convent of Notre Dame every Wednesday afternoon. For many years she had been a benefactress
to both the nuns and the church of Our Lady Immaculate in Saint Domingo Road. Cat, who on the Wednesday after Joe’s departure
had no desire to go to Eldon Street, offered to escort her, seeing how slippery it had become underfoot.
‘I’ll come back here and keep the fires banked up, finish the mending and then nip back for you. You usually leave about five
o’clock don’t you?’
‘That’s very kind of you, Catherine, it is difficult to cross that road even at the best of times.’
So, wrapped in heavy coats, scarves and galoshes, they walked slowly and carefully the few hundred yards to the convent gates.
Cat helped her mistress up the steep flight of steps but as a black-robed figure openedthe door, she turned and left. As she stepped out on to the icy pavement she collided with another girl and they both slipped
and landed on their buttocks. Cat was about to launch into a tirade of accusations when she noticed that the girl was wearing
the regulation uniform of the convent school and that she was laughing.
‘What a cut we must look!’ she gasped. ‘Here, give me your hand and I’ll pull you up or we’ll both have wet drawers!’
Cat took the proffered hand and they stumbled to their feet. Cat’s own eyes were full of laughter at the black velour hat
with the wide brim, that Joe had described as looking like a po, for the fall had knocked it over one of the girl’s eyes.
It also amused her to hear this convent-bred girl talking of ‘drawers’. Whenever she had seen the girls from the convent,
walking in single file and flanked by the nuns, they had all looked so prim and proper. This one certainly didn’t fit into
either category.
The girl smiled at her. ‘We’ve just been let loose for the holidays!’
She presented a comic figure in the long navy blue coat, black wellington boots, navy blue woollen gloves and that awful hat
on which was pinned a badge depicting a sprig of Lily of the Valley and some gold lettering. Cat smiled again.
‘What’s so funny?’ The girl demanded.
‘That hat!’
She straightened it but it didn’t look much better for it seemed to rest on her ears. A fringe of sandy-blonde hair protruded
from beneath the brim and hung in loosecurls over her shoulders. ‘It’s bloody awful, isn’t it, but we have to wear them otherwise there’s hell to pay! What’s your
name? Mine’s Marie Hazel Gorry.’
Cat was shocked. Only men and sluts like her sister used words like that. ‘Cat Cleary, it’s short for Catherine,’ she stammered,
forstalling the usual question.
‘Do you live round here?’
‘Sort of. I’m in service with Mrs Travis.’
‘Oh, her! She’s the one who comes to tea with Mother Exterior every week!’
‘Don’t you mean “Superior”?’
‘No. All those sweet smiles and pious looks are “exterior”, underneath she’s a holy terror! Where are you going?’
‘Back to Mrs Travis’s house, I’m collecting her at five.’
‘Oh.’ She sounded disappointed.
‘Aren’t you going home? Do you live round here?’
‘No, I have to get the tram to Walton.’ She brightened. ‘Walk down Royal Street with me, there’s a park at the bottom – Lester
Gardens – we can talk!’
‘It’s freezing!’ Cat protested.
‘It’s not that bad!’
Cat warmed to her. She had experienced little company of girls of her own age, although this one looked a bit younger. Cat
surmised that if your parents could afford to pay for you to go to an expensive school, then you obviously stayed there a
lot longer than if you went to an ordinary school. She nodded and so hanging on to each other
left the room.
Chapter Six
T HE FOLLOWING WEEK IT snowed and the roads and pavements quickly became treacherous as a heavy frost set in. It was Mrs Travis’s custom to take
tea with Mother Superior at the Convent of Notre Dame every Wednesday afternoon. For many years she had been a benefactress
to both the nuns and the church of Our Lady Immaculate in Saint Domingo Road. Cat, who on the Wednesday after Joe’s departure
had no desire to go to Eldon Street, offered to escort her, seeing how slippery it had become underfoot.
‘I’ll come back here and keep the fires banked up, finish the mending and then nip back for you. You usually leave about five
o’clock don’t you?’
‘That’s very kind of you, Catherine, it is difficult to cross that road even at the best of times.’
So, wrapped in heavy coats, scarves and galoshes, they walked slowly and carefully the few hundred yards to the convent gates.
Cat helped her mistress up the steep flight of steps but as a black-robed figure openedthe door, she turned and left. As she stepped out on to the icy pavement she collided with another girl and they both slipped
and landed on their buttocks. Cat was about to launch into a tirade of accusations when she noticed that the girl was wearing
the regulation uniform of the convent school and that she was laughing.
‘What a cut we must look!’ she gasped. ‘Here, give me your hand and I’ll pull you up or we’ll both have wet drawers!’
Cat took the proffered hand and they stumbled to their feet. Cat’s own eyes were full of laughter at the black velour hat
with the wide brim, that Joe had described as looking like a po, for the fall had knocked it over one of the girl’s eyes.
It also amused her to hear this convent-bred girl talking of ‘drawers’. Whenever she had seen the girls from the convent,
walking in single file and flanked by the nuns, they had all looked so prim and proper. This one certainly didn’t fit into
either category.
The girl smiled at her. ‘We’ve just been let loose for the holidays!’
She presented a comic figure in the long navy blue coat, black wellington boots, navy blue woollen gloves and that awful hat
on which was pinned a badge depicting a sprig of Lily of the Valley and some gold lettering. Cat smiled again.
‘What’s so funny?’ The girl demanded.
‘That hat!’
She straightened it but it didn’t look much better for it seemed to rest on her ears. A fringe of sandy-blonde hair protruded
from beneath the brim and hung in loosecurls over her shoulders. ‘It’s bloody awful, isn’t it, but we have to wear them otherwise there’s hell to pay! What’s your
name? Mine’s Marie Hazel Gorry.’
Cat was shocked. Only men and sluts like her sister used words like that. ‘Cat Cleary, it’s short for Catherine,’ she stammered,
forstalling the usual question.
‘Do you live round here?’
‘Sort of. I’m in service with Mrs Travis.’
‘Oh, her! She’s the one who comes to tea with Mother Exterior every week!’
‘Don’t you mean “Superior”?’
‘No. All those sweet smiles and pious looks are “exterior”, underneath she’s a holy terror! Where are you going?’
‘Back to Mrs Travis’s house, I’m collecting her at five.’
‘Oh.’ She sounded disappointed.
‘Aren’t you going home? Do you live round here?’
‘No, I have to get the tram to Walton.’ She brightened. ‘Walk down Royal Street with me, there’s a park at the bottom – Lester
Gardens – we can talk!’
‘It’s freezing!’ Cat protested.
‘It’s not that bad!’
Cat warmed to her. She had experienced little company of girls of her own age, although this one looked a bit younger. Cat
surmised that if your parents could afford to pay for you to go to an expensive school, then you obviously stayed there a
lot longer than if you went to an ordinary school. She nodded and so hanging on to each other
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