The September Girls by Maureen Lee Read Free Book Online Page B

your mammy and daddy too.’
    Fergus discovered an appetite, after all, and the sandwiches had gone when Brenna became aware the lads were being uncommonly quiet. ‘Have you lost your tongues?’ she asked.
    Tyrone looked sideways at Nancy. ‘She might cane us if we talk while we’re eating,’ he said in a small voice.
    Nancy screamed that she’d do no such thing. ‘Is that what they do in St Hilda’s?’
    ‘Yes. Our Fergus gets the cane nearly every morning for wetting the bed. Then he has to wash the sheet and hang it on the line.’ Fergus hung his head and refused to meet his mother’s eyes.
    ‘He never used to wet the bed,’ Brenna exclaimed hotly.
    Colm said they shouldn’t spoil the two hours by talking about the convent and asked Nancy about the union she belonged to. Nancy explained the members were known as suffragettes. ‘They got together in nineteen hundred and three to advance women’s rights, particularly the right to vote in elections. Some were sent to prison for their pains, where they were force-fed.’ Her big, plain face shone with indignation. ‘Two years ago, women over thirty were given the vote, but we shall keep on fighting until it’s twenty-one, same as men. Woman form half the population of the country, yet they’re treated like second-class citizens - no, not citizens, subjects . It’s about time we got rid of the royal family and became a republic like America.’ She suddenly grinned. ‘I suppose it’s time I came down off me high horse and made us all another cup of tea.’
    It almost broke Brenna’s heart to take Fergus and Tyrone back to St Hilda’s after what seemed all too short a time. ‘It won’t be long before we’re all back together,’ she assured them confidently, although wished she had more faith in her own words. At least Nancy had invited them back to tea next Sunday. It would give them something to look forward to: her and Colm an’ all.
     
    December came and there was ice in the air. The paraffin stove was turned full on and Brenna felt as if the fumes were choking her to death. Cara developed a wracking cough and her breathing was hoarse when she slept.
    Christmas was only ten days away and the lads were dreading the idea of spending it in St Hilda’s where they were already learning new hymns and special prayers to say at Mass. Nancy was going away for Christmas and Boxing Day. Apparently, she had an elderly father in Rochdale and wanted to keep him company.
    It was going to be a really wretched holiday. Colm had lost all faith in getting a regular job and Brenna remembered his threat that he’d have to find some other way of making money if he hadn’t found work by Christmas. It made her feel even more despondent. One morning, she felt so low that she sobbed into her pillow as soon as Colm had left, imagining him being sent to jail and she wouldn’t see him again for years and years and there’d be even less chance of getting back her lads. It was the first time she’d allowed herself to cry and she felt ashamed.
    She sat up, sniffed, wiped away the tears with the back of her hand and told herself sternly that this just wouldn’t do. The tears had left streaks in the grime on her hand. Lord Almighty, she was letting herself go on top of everything else. When did she last wash herself all over? She couldn’t remember.
    There was still hot water in the kettle from the tea she’d made for Colm and she poured some into the metal bowl in which she did the washing, then took off her clothes. Using one of Cara’s clean nappies, she washed every inch of her body, shivering mightily in the process. Then she did the same to Cara, although it was pity there weren’t some nice, clean clothes to put back on their nice, clean bodies. If ever she had a penny to spare, she’d take herself to the public baths. She fed Cara, made some tea, dipping a chunk of dry bread in it, wrapped herself and the baby tightly with the shawl, and made her way to St