Trio Read Online Free PDF Page B

Driscoll?’ Another nun. Older this time, with grey curls peeping from the edge of her wimple. Thick glasses and a rough, red complexion. ‘Good afternoon. I’m Matron. Sister Monica.’
    ‘Yes, Sister. You wrote.’
    ‘That’s right. You’re up in Collyhurst?’
    ‘Just beyond.’
    ‘St Malachy’s?’
    ‘Yes, Sister.’
    ‘I knew Father Gilmartin from Salford, we were both at St Claire’s for a while.’
    Connections established, they followed Sister Monica into a generous-sized room which held a desk and several upright chairs, a filing cabinet and some easy chairs around the fireplace. Above the mantelpiece was a picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour and behind Sister Monica’s desk one of the Sacred Heart. A tea tray with cups for three sat on the desk.
    ‘You’ll have some tea before your journey back?’ Sister addressed Mammy. Megan felt a rush of heat inside. She wasn’t going back, she had to stay. She could see pink wafers on the tray. Her favorite. Peak Freans.
    ‘We’ll do that then and have a little chat, and then I can show Megan around the place. Tea is at five thirty, so we’ve plenty of time. When's your bus?’
    ‘They’re every twenty minutes back to town, so I’ll be fine, thank you, Sister.’
    Sister poured tea and Megan got a cup and a biscuit. Sister Monica established Mrs Driscoll’s home town in Eire and the two regaled each other with families they knew, priests and schools and seminaries and churches. Megan let the chat bubble round her. She felt tired and cranky. Oh, Brendan. She missed Brendan. He had been banned from the house and she from seeing him. She had sent him a couple of notes to work, getting her sister Kitty to take them on her way to the factory. She knew he still cared. She saw him at Mass, his family all stuck to him like sticky burrs and no chance to talk.
    ‘Now, Mrs Driscoll.’ The tone changed and Megan paid attention again. ‘Do you have any questions?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘And we think the baby is due in the middle of May?’
    ‘Think so.’
    ‘Father Quinlan does the purification ceremony here and then Megan will be able to make a clean start of it all. Yes?’
    ‘Yes, Sister.’ She didn’t want her mammy to go. She didn’t want to be left here. She felt herself getting hot, like a burn travelling up her back, along the sides of her arms and her neck.
    ‘The baby will be placed and Megan will need to give her consent for the formal hearing. It’s only a couple of minutes and the parties never meet. You won’t see the parents. Just a formality.’
    She felt a flare of resentment. She and Brendan were the parents, the real parents. If they’d been a few years older they could have got married and no one could have stopped them.
    ‘I’ll be on my way.’ Her mammy rose and Megan took in the shabby green tweed coat, the ill-matched hat, the determined face her mother had put on.
    She stood for a hug, suddenly panicky, no air in the place, fevered, her eyes hot. Mammy’s touch was swift, almost brusque, not giving either of them the chance for a show of emotion.
    ‘Ta-ta, now. Thank you, Sister.’
    ‘Mammy.’ Megan tried to slow her down, no idea what to say.
    The door opened and Sister Giuseppe was there. Like Igor, Megan thought. There’d been no signal. ‘Mammy.’
    ‘Sister will see you out, Mrs Driscoll.’
    Her mother practically ran from the room and the door closed on them.
    Megan stood, her throat parched, her heart fluttering in her throat.
    ‘Sit down, Megan,’ Sister said quietly, but there was no warmth in the voice. ‘Let me check your notes.’
     
    Joan
    ‘Father’s name?’
    Joan shook her head. ‘He doesn’t know.’
    ‘You couldn’t tell him?’
    ‘He isn’t free.’
    She could sense the disapproval from the other side of the desk like a fret of distaste settling about her. She hadn’t just been careless, she had led a married man astray. Home wrecker, scarlet woman.
    ‘Can you leave it blank?’ She