jabbed a finger into the chest of three of them, ‘you three carry the child to the ablution room.’
‘Yes, Sister Hortense.’
The three selected girls grabbed hold of Winnie and struggled to pull her from the chair.
‘Hold on, you’re hurting me,’ Winnie protested. ‘The best way is if one of you takes hold of my legs and lifts them over the side of the chair, and then you stand on either side of me so that I can lean on you both.’
The girls looked at each other, then nodded in agreement and did as she asked.
When they reached the ablution room they found Sister Hortense already there and that several other girls were filling the tin bath from large jugs.
‘Remove her clothes and help her get those irons off her legs, then put her in the bath,’ Sister Hortense ordered.
Despite her struggles and protests Winnie found herself immersed in the bath of hot water, to which Sister Hortense had added so much Condy’s Fluid that it had turned the water a bright pink.
Sister Hortense stood with her arms folded and kept well away from the water as one of the bigger girls rubbed at Winnie’s scrawny body with a harsh brush and a swab of rough flannel that felt like sandpaper on her tender skin. Then she pushed Winnie’s head under the water to rinse the soap out of her hair.
‘Right. Take her out of the bath, wrap her in a towel and sit her on the stool over there, and then leave,’ Sister Hortense ordered.
‘She can’t walk, not a step, we had to carry her all the way,’ Gladys Wells said, wide-eyed with concern.
‘You heard my orders! One more word and you’ll be punished. Now go!’
The girls slipped away like mice, closing the door gingerly behind them, but not before they’d peeped over their shoulders and stared in fascination at Winnie’s wasted legs.
As soon as they were alone in the room, Sister Hortense walked slowly round Winnie, then without a word produced a large pair of scissors from an inside pocket in the skirt of her black habit. With a brisk, swift movement she seized a handful of Winnie’s dripping wet hair. There was a sharp rasping noise and a bunch of black ringlets dropped down onto the floor at Sister Hortense’s feet.
Winnie’s scream was like that of a tortured animal.
‘Quiet!’ Sister Hortense hissed. ‘One more sound and you’ll be severely punished.’
Winnie stared at her in horror. ‘My hair! What are you doing?’
‘Cutting it, my child,’ Sister Hortense told her calmly. ‘Haven’t you noticed that all the girls here have their hair short?’
‘I don’t want mine short,’ Winnie protested. ‘I like my curls.’
‘Then it is time you realised that such vanity is sinful. All the more reason to have those ringlets removed. Being vain is one of the most grievous sins of all, and unless it is curbed you will be condemned to Hell’s fiercest fires.’
‘That’s stupid! If God gave me curls then he’s not going to punish me for liking them!’
‘How dare you answer me back!’ The hard edge of Sister Hortense’s hand caught Winnie across the face.
Winnie’s lips clamped together to stop herself from screaming. She was shaking with a mixture of fear and humiliation as the scissors completed their savage attack.
‘That brings you into line with the other girls here, so I hope we’ll have no further tantrums, Winnie Malloy. Understand? You’ve sinned enough with your blasphemy already. You will be punished, make no mistake about that. It merits at least one Act of Contrition.’
Silent tears streaming down her cheeks, her entire body trembling, Winnie said nothing. She heard the door shut behind Sister Hortense and sat shivering as she waited for someone to bring her some clothes and help her from the ablution room.
The minutes dragged endlessly, and by the time Gladys came back Winnie was shivering with the cold and starving hungry. As Gladys helped her into the standard uniform worn by them all, Winnie ran a hand over her head and
‘Yes, Sister Hortense.’
The three selected girls grabbed hold of Winnie and struggled to pull her from the chair.
‘Hold on, you’re hurting me,’ Winnie protested. ‘The best way is if one of you takes hold of my legs and lifts them over the side of the chair, and then you stand on either side of me so that I can lean on you both.’
The girls looked at each other, then nodded in agreement and did as she asked.
When they reached the ablution room they found Sister Hortense already there and that several other girls were filling the tin bath from large jugs.
‘Remove her clothes and help her get those irons off her legs, then put her in the bath,’ Sister Hortense ordered.
Despite her struggles and protests Winnie found herself immersed in the bath of hot water, to which Sister Hortense had added so much Condy’s Fluid that it had turned the water a bright pink.
Sister Hortense stood with her arms folded and kept well away from the water as one of the bigger girls rubbed at Winnie’s scrawny body with a harsh brush and a swab of rough flannel that felt like sandpaper on her tender skin. Then she pushed Winnie’s head under the water to rinse the soap out of her hair.
‘Right. Take her out of the bath, wrap her in a towel and sit her on the stool over there, and then leave,’ Sister Hortense ordered.
‘She can’t walk, not a step, we had to carry her all the way,’ Gladys Wells said, wide-eyed with concern.
‘You heard my orders! One more word and you’ll be punished. Now go!’
The girls slipped away like mice, closing the door gingerly behind them, but not before they’d peeped over their shoulders and stared in fascination at Winnie’s wasted legs.
As soon as they were alone in the room, Sister Hortense walked slowly round Winnie, then without a word produced a large pair of scissors from an inside pocket in the skirt of her black habit. With a brisk, swift movement she seized a handful of Winnie’s dripping wet hair. There was a sharp rasping noise and a bunch of black ringlets dropped down onto the floor at Sister Hortense’s feet.
Winnie’s scream was like that of a tortured animal.
‘Quiet!’ Sister Hortense hissed. ‘One more sound and you’ll be severely punished.’
Winnie stared at her in horror. ‘My hair! What are you doing?’
‘Cutting it, my child,’ Sister Hortense told her calmly. ‘Haven’t you noticed that all the girls here have their hair short?’
‘I don’t want mine short,’ Winnie protested. ‘I like my curls.’
‘Then it is time you realised that such vanity is sinful. All the more reason to have those ringlets removed. Being vain is one of the most grievous sins of all, and unless it is curbed you will be condemned to Hell’s fiercest fires.’
‘That’s stupid! If God gave me curls then he’s not going to punish me for liking them!’
‘How dare you answer me back!’ The hard edge of Sister Hortense’s hand caught Winnie across the face.
Winnie’s lips clamped together to stop herself from screaming. She was shaking with a mixture of fear and humiliation as the scissors completed their savage attack.
‘That brings you into line with the other girls here, so I hope we’ll have no further tantrums, Winnie Malloy. Understand? You’ve sinned enough with your blasphemy already. You will be punished, make no mistake about that. It merits at least one Act of Contrition.’
Silent tears streaming down her cheeks, her entire body trembling, Winnie said nothing. She heard the door shut behind Sister Hortense and sat shivering as she waited for someone to bring her some clothes and help her from the ablution room.
The minutes dragged endlessly, and by the time Gladys came back Winnie was shivering with the cold and starving hungry. As Gladys helped her into the standard uniform worn by them all, Winnie ran a hand over her head and
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