sobbing almost at once. I had distinctly heard the word orphanage. If it had been said before, throughout that long day, I had not heard it.
‘Does that mean that I am not going to jail for ever?’ I asked in a low voice.
‘Of course you are not going to jail. Whatever gave you that idea? You’ll be better looked after there, than before now. You were very lucky that woman made a complaint to the ISPCC.’
‘What complaint? What woman? What is the ISPCC?’
‘What went on in that house was disgusting. The whole world knows about that house. I just have to sign some papers here in the office and then we’re off,’ he said.
I had a million questions to ask. But I was afraid to open my mouth, in case I got into more trouble.
‘Of course, my shoes and trousers are ruined because of you,’ was the last statement I heard from the cruelty officer.
Before I left, while nobody was looking, I checked for any evidence of where I had wet the office floor earlier that day. Horror of horrors, it was still visible. I silently prayed to God that nobody would notice the stain. I felt so guilty about it.
FOUR
Safe in Prison
THE CRUELTY OFFICER wasn’t as rough after the hearing. He came back to the office and took me gently by the hand this time and led me away. We were going to the orphanage so I had stopped crying. The journey took about half an hour by car. The time passed quickly.
We got out of the car and walked to a heavy wooden door. The officer rang a bell and a nun opened the door and she invited us in. She took us into what seemed to be a large waiting room. It was warm and comfortable and smelled of lavender floor polish.
It was lovely.
‘This is Celine Clifford. She is coming to stay with you, Sister,’ said the cruelty officer.
‘We are expecting you, Celine. You are most welcome to the Mount Orphanage. This will be your home. I hope you will be happy here,’ said the nun.
I was still clutching tightly to the cruelty officer, as I looked cautiously around the room.
The nun said that the other children were saying the rosary and that I might like to join in. As I knew how to say the rosary, I said, ‘Yes, please.’
She led the way down some long corridors. A faint murmur of sound became a choir of children’s voices chanting the responses to the familiar leads of the rosary. The nun said that she would come and get me as soon as the rosary was over. I was then silently introduced to another nun who was leading the prayers, by a system of nods between the two nuns.
I was put kneeling down, between two other girls at a long bench seat. As I looked at the girl on either side of me, each in turn smiled a greeting. As the rosary drew to a close, a large number of the children surrounded me. There were so many of them asking me questions, I could barely raise a voice in reply. Some of them wanted to touch me. I recoiled slightly. But they were all good touches.
A surge of emotion overwhelmed me. I could feel the blood rise to my cheeks. I realised for the first time in my entire life that I felt safe.
I thought to myself, ‘I am going to love this place.’
The nun came back to collect me as promised. She asked me if I had been fed. As I had not been given any food during the day, I suddenly felt hungry. In truth, I was always starving but in the past months I’d gotten used to being fed so I was now hungrier than ever. The nun said that I should join the other children for supper, and afterwards they would bath me and show me where I would be sleeping.
She took me down to the refectory, where all the other children were already noisily ensconced at the various long tables. It smelled of sour milk. I never heard such bedlam. Everyone seemed to be shouting or talking at the same time. Each one wanted me to sit at her table. It was so exciting.
Supper consisted of bread and jam, washed down with cold milk. There was a plate piled high with bread and jam. I wolfed down as many slices as I could. The
‘Does that mean that I am not going to jail for ever?’ I asked in a low voice.
‘Of course you are not going to jail. Whatever gave you that idea? You’ll be better looked after there, than before now. You were very lucky that woman made a complaint to the ISPCC.’
‘What complaint? What woman? What is the ISPCC?’
‘What went on in that house was disgusting. The whole world knows about that house. I just have to sign some papers here in the office and then we’re off,’ he said.
I had a million questions to ask. But I was afraid to open my mouth, in case I got into more trouble.
‘Of course, my shoes and trousers are ruined because of you,’ was the last statement I heard from the cruelty officer.
Before I left, while nobody was looking, I checked for any evidence of where I had wet the office floor earlier that day. Horror of horrors, it was still visible. I silently prayed to God that nobody would notice the stain. I felt so guilty about it.
FOUR
Safe in Prison
THE CRUELTY OFFICER wasn’t as rough after the hearing. He came back to the office and took me gently by the hand this time and led me away. We were going to the orphanage so I had stopped crying. The journey took about half an hour by car. The time passed quickly.
We got out of the car and walked to a heavy wooden door. The officer rang a bell and a nun opened the door and she invited us in. She took us into what seemed to be a large waiting room. It was warm and comfortable and smelled of lavender floor polish.
It was lovely.
‘This is Celine Clifford. She is coming to stay with you, Sister,’ said the cruelty officer.
‘We are expecting you, Celine. You are most welcome to the Mount Orphanage. This will be your home. I hope you will be happy here,’ said the nun.
I was still clutching tightly to the cruelty officer, as I looked cautiously around the room.
The nun said that the other children were saying the rosary and that I might like to join in. As I knew how to say the rosary, I said, ‘Yes, please.’
She led the way down some long corridors. A faint murmur of sound became a choir of children’s voices chanting the responses to the familiar leads of the rosary. The nun said that she would come and get me as soon as the rosary was over. I was then silently introduced to another nun who was leading the prayers, by a system of nods between the two nuns.
I was put kneeling down, between two other girls at a long bench seat. As I looked at the girl on either side of me, each in turn smiled a greeting. As the rosary drew to a close, a large number of the children surrounded me. There were so many of them asking me questions, I could barely raise a voice in reply. Some of them wanted to touch me. I recoiled slightly. But they were all good touches.
A surge of emotion overwhelmed me. I could feel the blood rise to my cheeks. I realised for the first time in my entire life that I felt safe.
I thought to myself, ‘I am going to love this place.’
The nun came back to collect me as promised. She asked me if I had been fed. As I had not been given any food during the day, I suddenly felt hungry. In truth, I was always starving but in the past months I’d gotten used to being fed so I was now hungrier than ever. The nun said that I should join the other children for supper, and afterwards they would bath me and show me where I would be sleeping.
She took me down to the refectory, where all the other children were already noisily ensconced at the various long tables. It smelled of sour milk. I never heard such bedlam. Everyone seemed to be shouting or talking at the same time. Each one wanted me to sit at her table. It was so exciting.
Supper consisted of bread and jam, washed down with cold milk. There was a plate piled high with bread and jam. I wolfed down as many slices as I could. The
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