A Girl Called Blue (12 page)

She kept it a secret for a long time, not trusting anyone to know that she was going to run away. She hated Sister Regina and Sister Agnes and she was fed up with life in the orphanage. The idea of escape grew and grew in her mind.

She was not sure where she would go to but she had some money hidden away – a half crown from the Hickeys as well as Jess’s one pound, twelve shillings and sixpence. Surely that was enough to buy a ticket to get far away from the nuns and Larch Hill? She wondered would she have enough to get to Liverpool? Liverpool was where Molly was. Liverpool was where The Beatles lived – John, Paul, George and Ringo. Lil said they were the best band in the world. Her mind was addled with plotting and planning, trying to work out how she could get away and not get caught.

‘Blue, are you listening to me?’ asked Mary one evening while Blue was thinking about her plan.

‘What?’

‘You’re not listening, I knew it!’

‘Go on, I’m sorry.’ Blue could hear the worry in Mary’s voice.

‘I was trying to tell you about Tommy. His teacher said to him
yesterday about working hard in his new school.’

‘New school?’

‘Yes! Why would the teacher mention a new school unless he’s going to leave Larch Hill?’ Mary was almost hysterical, her eyes wild and scared-looking. ‘I don’t want him to go, Blue. I can’t bear it.’

Blue’s heart sank. She didn’t know how Mary would get over losing her little brother. He was her only family.

‘They can’t send Tommy away. It’s not fair.’

‘You know the boys only stay here till they’re eight, and then they go to the boys’ home. You know that, Mary.’

‘He’s not going. They can’t send Tommy there. I’m going to go and talk to Sister Regina about it.’

Blue couldn’t believe it, Mary going to the head nun’s office.

‘Will you come with me?’

Blue swallowed hard. Sister Regina hated her.

‘I don’t mean you have to come in, Blue, but just walk up to the door with me so I don’t get cold feet and run away.’

‘’Course I will.’

Mary’s face was strained and pale the next day when she stood outside the head nun’s door, trying to get the courage to knock. Blue was nervous for her.

‘Go on, Mary,’ she urged.

‘I’m doing this for Tommy,’ Mary said firmly, clenching her hand into a fist and knocking loudly on the heavy door.

‘Come in,’ said the voice.

Blue squeezed her hand before she disappeared inside.

She waited down the corridor. Mary reappeared a few minutes
later, and walked right past her.

‘Mary! Mary, how did it go?’

Mary Doyle, eyes red-rimmed, didn’t say a solitary word.

Ten days later Tommy was gone. He and two other small boys, Davey Lynch and Paul Byrne, no longer sat at the table in the corner of the dining hall or chased around the corridors after each other. The three of them had been moved to a home for older boys.

‘I didn’t even get a chance to say a proper goodbye to him,’ Mary repeated over and over again. She sat at the table in despair. In school she paid no attention to the teacher and did no homework. In the yard she refused to play, and at night she pulled the blankets over her head and gave in to her tears in the dark.

‘God, it’s awful,’ declared Lil. ‘Do you think she’s going mad?’

Blue had to admit she was really worried. Her plans for running away were pushed to the back of her mind as she couldn’t contemplate leaving Mary at a time like this.

‘Girls, be kind to Mary Doyle for the moment,’ urged Sister Carmel, who was shocked by the change in the girl and concerned for her well-being.

Three weeks later a letter came. Mary tore the envelope open. It was from Tommy.

Mary read and re-read the letter again and again, as if it contained some coded message or hidden meaning. There was no address, just the simple, lined white paper. She studied the envelope.

‘Look, Blue. It says Galway. That’s where they must have sent him.’

Blue was relieved. She hoped that in some way Mary could get back to her old self, now that she knew her little brother was safe and well.

Once again she began to hatch her own plans, dreaming of being free of the grey walls and strict routines of Larch Hill. Timing was the important thing, as she would have to make sure no one was watching her, and she lay awake at night trying to plot the best way of getting out of Larch Hill.

‘Blue, are you awake?’ whispered Mary.

She nodded.

‘Can you keep a secret?’

‘’Course I can. Cross my heart!’ She sat up. Mary had been acting so strange lately.

‘I’m getting out of here.’

‘Getting out! But how?’

‘I don’t know yet,’ confided Mary, ‘but I’m going to Galway to find Tommy. They can’t separate us. I won’t let them.’

Blue took a deep breath. She’d been half expecting this. Mary wasn’t the type to forget about her brother. She would go to the ends of the earth for the people she loved.

‘Will you help me?’

Blue didn’t know what to say. She had been planning her own escape, but looking at the excited, freckled face she realised that she would have to bring Mary Doyle with her.

Two are better than one, that’s what they told themselves as they plotted their escape. The best time to make their getaway was early in the morning, after breakfast, when the children from Larch Hill marched across the yard and down a short laneway to join all the other children from the streets nearby going to the local primary school. In those few minutes they were in a no-man’s land between the orphanage and the school, with no one directly in charge of them.

‘That’s the very best time for us to go,’ insisted Blue. ‘The nuns will think we’re at school and Mrs Brady will probably think I’m with the nurse again and you can let on the day before that you’re sick.’

Mary agreed. It was a good plan. She didn’t have any money, so they would just have to make do with what Blue had saved.

They waited for the opportunity and then, one bright March day, they fell back from the others in the yard, and scrambled behind the low walls where the bins were. Minutes later, when the
bell had sounded and class had started, they dashed across the yard, climbed up over the back wall, then jumped down to the freedom of an overgrown and rubbish-strewn back alley, where a startled rat darted in front of them. The two girls took to their heels.

They were out of breath and panting by the time they reached the bus stop. Mary blazed red as a woman with a shopping basket stared curiously at them. Blue gave her a dig in the ribs, hoping she wouldn’t give the game away by mentioning the orphanage if the woman questioned her. The minute the bus appeared, they made their way upstairs, away from the woman and her shopping basket.

‘Mary, will you stop looking so guilty!’ Blue whispered.

‘Janey, my heart’s beating so fast I thought that woman would hear it!’

‘Will you shut up now and stop drawing attention to us.’

They stared out the window as the bus headed towards the city centre, filling up with passengers at every stop. The conductor came and took their fares. At last the bus come to a juddering halt and the passengers tumbled out.

‘There’s the river Liffey,’ Mary pointed out excitedly as Blue stopped a man in a business suit and asked him the way to the train station. Anxious to get out of Dublin, they ran along the busy city quays, following his directions. Kingsbridge railway station was crowded with people, and the two girls joined the long queue to buy tickets.

‘Two to Galway,’ said Blue firmly when their turn came at last.

‘Return?’ asked the man behind the glass panel.

‘Return?’ Blue hesitated, unsure.

‘Are ye coming back to Dublin later this month or on the same day? It makes a difference.’

‘We’re staying in Galway with our Granny, and we won’t be coming back.’

‘Then it’s two singles you want. That’ll be one pound twelve shillings and sixpence.’

‘How much?’ gasped Mary. It was nearly all the money they had.

‘You heard me!’ said the man, getting irritated now as the crowd became agitated behind them. ‘Do you want the tickets or not?’

‘What time does the train leave?’ asked Blue.

‘Well, you missed the earlier one. The next one will be leaving around six o’clock and will get you into Galway by half-past nine.’

‘I’m sorry, but we’ll have to come back later,’ apologised Blue, grabbing hold of Mary’s jacket and pulling her out of the line, ignoring the annoyed stares of the other waiting passengers.

Mary looked like she was about to burst into tears. Blue didn’t want to attract attention so she dragged her friend into the ladies’ toilet.

‘What are we going to do?’ Mary wailed. ‘We’ll have no money left over, and the next train isn’t till tonight! How are we ever going to find Tommy?’

Blue had to admit she hadn’t reckoned on the price of the tickets being so high and the fact that there wasn’t another train for hours, but she wasn’t going to give up now.

‘We’ll never get to Galway,’ sobbed Mary, ‘and I’ll never see Tommy again.’

‘Shush, shush,’ Blue soothed, trying to calm her friend down.

‘Miss the train to Galway, loveys?’ asked the toilet attendant, who was busy polishing the mirrors. ‘People are always missing trains, but you could always get the bus. It takes a bit longer, but sure, it’s only half the price.’

‘Half the price?’

The cleaning lady explained to them where to get the bus and wished them luck.

The two of them ran helter-skelter back the way they had come. They arrived at Busaras only to find that they’d missed the morning bus to Galway too, but that there was another one in the afternoon.

‘That’ll do us fine,’ grinned Mary.

‘What’ll we do while we’re waiting?’’ asked Blue, not willing to sit in the bus station for hours.

‘I suppose we could walk around the shops for a while, once nobody notices us.’

They both agreed and headed back towards Nelson’s Pillar in the middle of O’Connell Street. The city centre was busy with shoppers and workers. Cars and buses all crowded into Dublin’s main street. A Garda with white gloves directed the traffic in the distance and they both automatically turned away from him.

‘There’s the GPO where they fought in the Easter Rising.’ Blue tried to imagine the street in 1916 with the buildings in flames and the street overrun with soldiers and filled with the sound of gunfire.

‘There’s Clery’s!’ gasped Mary, leading the way to the huge
department store. ‘Let’s go in here.’ She pushed in the heavy glass door with the polished brass handles.

A shop assistant watched them and Blue could feel her eyes follow them as they walked by the wooden counters with their displays of handbags and scarves. A customer finally called her away to wrap a scarf she had been trying on.

Spotting a sign for the toy department they headed downstairs. They walked through rows of pots and pans and bowls and glasses and trays of silver cutlery first, all proclaiming to be the perfect wedding present.

‘Look!’ shouted Mary at last.

The two of them stood in awe, taking in the paradise of the children’s toy department. There was a whole row of dolls, from a huge one the size of a child to lots of tiny ones, with every possible colour of hair and eyes. Each had an outfit – a check coat and matching scarf, a pink party dress, a riding outfit, a bride’s outfit. There were baby dolls that sucked on bottles and could wee, there were dolls with long hair to comb or plait, dolls that cried if you tilted them forward. Dolls that were soft and cuddly and dolls that had hard, plastic faces and bodies. Neither of them had ever seen the like of it. The place was almost empty and they played a delicious game of pretend, in which they could each pick their favourite doll. They could have stayed there for the day, imagining they were allowed to play with all the toys, but they spotted the security officer ambling over towards them.

‘He’s watching us,’ whispered Blue. ‘Let’s get a move on.’

Reluctantly they left Clery’s, suddenly realising how hungry
and thirsty they were and wishing they’d brought something to eat. The cafés and restaurants were full, and their stomachs groaned as the smell of food assailed them.

‘Janey, I’m starving!’ said Mary. ‘Do you think we’ve enough money to buy some food?’

They looked around and spotted a small kiosk that sold doughnuts and they bought one each, plus a small bottle of lemonade, asking the man for two straws. They gulped down the doughy rings and took small sips of the fizzy drink, saving the rest for later.

Across the road they spotted a large bookshop and Blue persuaded Mary to go inside with her. She had never seen so many books in her life, and longed to read every one of them.

‘’Tis only stupid books,’ sighed Mary, who still stumbled over letters and words and had no interest in reading. Blue managed to distract her for a while by pointing her towards the stationery section with its coloured pens and pencils and crayon sets, while she scanned the vast bookshelves.

Back outside, they turned a corner and found themselves in Moore Street. Voices called to them all along the street.

‘Bunches of green grapes – bring them to the hospital – treat yourselves – all the way from Italy.’

Fruit and vegetables were piled up on every stall, the women gossiping to each other as they shouted out their wares. Mary and Blue watched as they weighed out potatoes and carrots and plums and onions, and, if the customer was nice, adding an extra one for luck, before tipping the stuff into a paper bag which they twirled in
the air as they fastened it.

Finally it was time to catch the bus for Galway. They got their tickets, then fell into their seats, anxious and excited at the thought of the journey. The driver revved the engine for ages before he finally closed the doors and set off.

‘Don’t tell anyone what we’re doing!’ cautioned Blue. ‘Pretend we’re sisters and are going to visit our Granny.’

Mary nodded nervously. Both of them were only too aware that they looked nothing like sisters. But the bus was half-empty anyway, so they wouldn’t have to talk to anyone.

The bus pushed its way through the city streets up along the quays, then out past rows of red-brick houses and terraces, until it finally left the city behind. Soon they were in the country, passing through one small town after another.

‘Do you think they’ll have missed us yet?’ Mary whispered nervously.

Blue shrugged. They had timed it well. The staff in Larch Hill wouldn’t realise till at least midday or, if they were lucky, three o’clock that they had not been at school and the teachers would simply have marked them absent. Mary had pretended to the others that morning that she wasn’t feeling well and told them she was going to the infirmary.

But by now the nuns would definitely know they were missing and would have a search party out looking for them. They were both tired and anxious and the lulling movement of the bus made them drowsy, but they didn’t dare fall asleep or let their guard down. It was almost half-past six when they finally reached
Galway city, the two of them yawning and stretching as they tried to rouse themselves.

‘We’re here, we’re here!’ shouted Mary.

‘Eyre Square,’ called the driver. ‘You two girls okay?’ he asked as they clambered down off the bus. ‘Is there someone to meet you?’

Blue spotted an old woman with white hair and a green cardigan, with a little terrier on a lead, approaching the bus stop on the square.

‘Oh Mary, there’s Granny and she’s brought Patch to meet us.’ She waved wildly and pushed her friend in the right direction.

A look of confusion crossed the woman’s face as she searched the crowd, trying to see past the girl with the flailing arms. Satisfied, the driver bent down to help someone with their luggage.

They stood in the corner of Eyre Square, totally unsure of what to do or where to begin the search for Tommy. Blue stopped an old man and a young woman, probably his daughter, to ask, ‘Do you know where Saint Gerard’s orphanage is?’

The daughter looked unsure, but the old man was in no doubt. ‘’Tis about four miles out the Salthill road, towards Spiddal.’

‘Four miles!’ They couldn’t walk four miles, not at this time of the evening. ‘Can you get a bus there?’

‘Aye, there’s a bus, but you won’t get one now till tomorrow.’

Mary looked like she was about to break down and cry. Blue stood beside her, unsure what to do.

‘We’re going out that way, Daddy,’ said the young woman. ‘We could drop them a good part of the way. Is that any use?’ she asked, looking at Blue.

Any use? It was perfect and, not believing their good fortune, the girls found themselves sitting in the back seat of a Morris Minor, surrounded by packages. The daughter was driving and if she was curious as to their destination she didn’t let on.

‘Do you have someone in Saint Gerard’s?’ asked the old man.

‘My brother,’ Mary blurted out.

‘It’s his birthday today,’ interrupted Blue, ‘and we were supposed to bring him a present from our Mammy ’cause she’s not too well, but we got delayed and didn’t realise the time.’

‘Well, you can’t let him down, then,’ smiled the driver. ‘Listen, I’ll drop you here, right near the place. It’s only about a five-minute walk. Take a right turn over there and you can’t miss it.’

They said a huge thank you, and when the car was gone took to their heels and ran the rest of the way.

A large statue of a saint, whom they presumed was Saint Gerard, guarded the gates to a tall, white-washed building that was the boys’ home. The gate was unlocked and in the distance in a small field a crowd of older boys were kicking a football around in the dusk.

‘They’re the big boys. Tommy won’t be with them.’ Mary’s face was so white that Blue wondered would she be sick. ‘He must be inside.’

She could feel her own stomach doing cartwheels, turning over at the thought of being caught. Over and over again they had discussed coming to the orphanage and seeing Tommy, but nothing beyond that. They’d forgotten the most important part of the plan: what would they do with Tommy once they found him?

‘Come on,’ hissed Mary, leading the way around the back. They could hear shouting and voices coming from upstairs. ‘They must be getting ready for bed. Tommy’ll be there with them.’

They went through a door and crept up the dark wooden stairs, praying that a brother or one of the boys wouldn’t come along. Up to one landing, then another, they found themselves amongst a line of small boys pushing and shoving outside a bathroom. They searched the faces trying to see if young Tommy was there.

‘Girls!’ shouted a young fellow, sounding the alarm. ‘Girls!’ he shouted again, even louder.

‘Shut up, Conor, or I’ll thump you,’ ordered Blue, immediately recognising him from Larch Hill. ‘Mary and I are trying to find her brother, Tommy Doyle. He’s a new boy, only here about two weeks.’

‘I know him, miss,’ offered a small, scrawny boy with a face like a mouse and two sticking-out ears. ‘Tommy sleeps in my room, that one just down there. He’s always sniffling and crying and the brothers don’t like him ’cos he causes a fuss.’

Sniffling and crying! Mary didn’t like the sound of that and looked like she was ready to murder anyone who touched her little brother. The boy pointed towards a dormitory along the corridor.