he wrote, ‘I
want to see you again.’ It sounded like an order.
She was trying not to think about James; he
confused her. Working the garden was Sarah’s cure for ills, but it didn’t
stop nonsense thoughts rattling in her head. Thoughts like the fact that James had kept
other boys away from Sarah all through school and afterwards, whether he was even
talking to her or not. Now here she was, twenty-three, and he was still playing cat and
mouse.
But did she want her life to be any
different than it was? Most of Sarah’s classmates were married. Did she want
marriage? She certainly didn’t want three in nappies like her cousin Mary. Though
that would be better than ending up like Annie Mangan. One morning, after years of
perfect attendance, Annie just didn’t show up. Never came to school again. Her
family had her in America, lodging with a second cousin, doing very well for herself.
Then they had her as a librarian in New York City. They had her very busy.
Sarah had forgotten about Annie until
recently. In February, just after Sarah’s birthday, James had said he wanted to go
steady. A few days later she was standing at the kitchen window, gazing out at the
snowdrops on the slope outside, her hand in her pocket secretly holding the birthday
brooch he had given her. He had whispered his love to her. Next time the snowdrops
pushed up, it might be an engagement ring she held. She was trying to take in what that
might mean when out of nowhere Mai asked if she remembered Annie Mangan.Of course she did; they’d been good friends. Mai told her Annie
hadn’t been sent to America; she’d been sent to a laundry and was there
yet.
‘It was all hushed up at the
time.’
‘How do you know about it,
then?’
‘I confirmed the girl’s
condition.’
‘What happened to the
child?’
‘The nuns that run the laundry took
it. They take all the girls’ babies –’
‘What girls?’
‘There are lots like Annie
Mangan.’
‘Why are you telling me this – why
now, after all these years?’
‘Poor Annie didn’t get there by
herself. Do you understand me?’
Sarah recalled Annie’s smooth plaits,
how they’d hung right down past the bench. How she’d sat stock-still during
class. Annie was an example to them all, the Master used to say, attentive, with a
wonderful posture. The back of her brown jumper was coated in fair hairs. Sarah was
always dying to reach out and brush them off. She tried to imagine Annie fat with child,
but couldn’t.
‘Do you understand me,
Sarah?’
‘I think so.’ Sarah wasn’t
sure she wanted to. ‘So when’s Annie coming back?’
‘Ah, what do you think?’
Mai looked at Sarah as if she were the
biggest eejit ever to walk the planet. Mai flared up sometimes, but it never lasted more
than a few seconds. They were opposites like that: Sarah tended to brew. Like now, using
weeding as an excuse.
Sarah plucked a cowslip and lay down – the
scent was heaven. A cabbage butterfly flitted past, a blackbird sang, Sarah stretched
out her arms. Life was fine here, just fine. The shadows of the long grasses played
across her skirt. What if all the secrecy was a ruse by James? Only for that, they could
get married and set up home, or go off travelling together. Would she like that? Sarah
didn’t know what she wanted – just knew that when she saw James again, it would be
him she wanted.
Mai called her. Sarah stood and waved. Her
aunt crooked her finger, which meant
I want a word
. What if someone had seenher and James on the road? Mai sat on the bench and waited for Sarah
to climb the slope to the backyard. She patted the space beside her. Sarah sat down.
‘Now.’
‘Now what, Mai?’
‘Now we’ve something to talk
about.’
‘We do?’
‘We do indeed.’
Mai took Sarah’s hand, turned it over
as if she were going to read her grass-stained palm and took a deep breath.
‘You did very well at school, Sarah;
if we’d the money you could’ve gone on further, but we
want to see you again.’ It sounded like an order.
She was trying not to think about James; he
confused her. Working the garden was Sarah’s cure for ills, but it didn’t
stop nonsense thoughts rattling in her head. Thoughts like the fact that James had kept
other boys away from Sarah all through school and afterwards, whether he was even
talking to her or not. Now here she was, twenty-three, and he was still playing cat and
mouse.
But did she want her life to be any
different than it was? Most of Sarah’s classmates were married. Did she want
marriage? She certainly didn’t want three in nappies like her cousin Mary. Though
that would be better than ending up like Annie Mangan. One morning, after years of
perfect attendance, Annie just didn’t show up. Never came to school again. Her
family had her in America, lodging with a second cousin, doing very well for herself.
Then they had her as a librarian in New York City. They had her very busy.
Sarah had forgotten about Annie until
recently. In February, just after Sarah’s birthday, James had said he wanted to go
steady. A few days later she was standing at the kitchen window, gazing out at the
snowdrops on the slope outside, her hand in her pocket secretly holding the birthday
brooch he had given her. He had whispered his love to her. Next time the snowdrops
pushed up, it might be an engagement ring she held. She was trying to take in what that
might mean when out of nowhere Mai asked if she remembered Annie Mangan.Of course she did; they’d been good friends. Mai told her Annie
hadn’t been sent to America; she’d been sent to a laundry and was there
yet.
‘It was all hushed up at the
time.’
‘How do you know about it,
then?’
‘I confirmed the girl’s
condition.’
‘What happened to the
child?’
‘The nuns that run the laundry took
it. They take all the girls’ babies –’
‘What girls?’
‘There are lots like Annie
Mangan.’
‘Why are you telling me this – why
now, after all these years?’
‘Poor Annie didn’t get there by
herself. Do you understand me?’
Sarah recalled Annie’s smooth plaits,
how they’d hung right down past the bench. How she’d sat stock-still during
class. Annie was an example to them all, the Master used to say, attentive, with a
wonderful posture. The back of her brown jumper was coated in fair hairs. Sarah was
always dying to reach out and brush them off. She tried to imagine Annie fat with child,
but couldn’t.
‘Do you understand me,
Sarah?’
‘I think so.’ Sarah wasn’t
sure she wanted to. ‘So when’s Annie coming back?’
‘Ah, what do you think?’
Mai looked at Sarah as if she were the
biggest eejit ever to walk the planet. Mai flared up sometimes, but it never lasted more
than a few seconds. They were opposites like that: Sarah tended to brew. Like now, using
weeding as an excuse.
Sarah plucked a cowslip and lay down – the
scent was heaven. A cabbage butterfly flitted past, a blackbird sang, Sarah stretched
out her arms. Life was fine here, just fine. The shadows of the long grasses played
across her skirt. What if all the secrecy was a ruse by James? Only for that, they could
get married and set up home, or go off travelling together. Would she like that? Sarah
didn’t know what she wanted – just knew that when she saw James again, it would be
him she wanted.
Mai called her. Sarah stood and waved. Her
aunt crooked her finger, which meant
I want a word
. What if someone had seenher and James on the road? Mai sat on the bench and waited for Sarah
to climb the slope to the backyard. She patted the space beside her. Sarah sat down.
‘Now.’
‘Now what, Mai?’
‘Now we’ve something to talk
about.’
‘We do?’
‘We do indeed.’
Mai took Sarah’s hand, turned it over
as if she were going to read her grass-stained palm and took a deep breath.
‘You did very well at school, Sarah;
if we’d the money you could’ve gone on further, but we
Similar Books
