Jimmy showed Blue into the small kitchen at Iveagh Terrace where Nance Mooney was sitting by the fire with her feet up on a leatherette pouffe.
‘Where in heaven’s name did you find the child, Jimmy?’ she asked, jumping up to get a towel so that Blue could dry herself.
‘The girl is half-drowned with the rain and half-starved too by the look of it. Her name’s Bernadette O’Malley, but they call her “Blue”,’ he reminded her. ‘You remember her, don’t you? From the day at the zoo? She’s one of the kids from Larch Hill. I spotted her down by the station.’
‘Larch Hill?’ Nance Mooney bent closer to get a good look at her. ‘Yes, I remember her.’
Blue suddenly felt cold and shivery and weak, too tired even to think.
‘Poor pet, she looks all done in,’ murmured the elderly woman, her double chin wobbling with concern. ‘Jimmy, go get a blanket and the red dressing-gown from my room. We’d better get her out of these wet clothes before she catches her death of cold.’
Ten minutes later Blue found herself wrapped in a huge, soft, wool dressing gown, a check blanket spread over her lap and knees, and her hair combed out on her shoulders to dry. She watched Mrs Mooney make her a mug of hot, milky tea and set sausages and rashers on the pan to fry.
‘What were the nuns doing letting her out on a day like this?’ she tut-tutted as she pricked the sizzling sausages.
‘She ran away, Ma.’ Jimmy glanced over at the girl. ‘The nuns had nothing to do with it.’
‘Ran away? She’s a runaway!’ Mrs Mooney looked at Blue, her expression curious and concerned. ‘Is that true, child?’
Blue nodded, miserable. All her defiance and energy was deflated like a big balloon from which all the air had escaped.
‘Well, I never! What are we going to do? We’d better send her straight back to the nuns. By now they probably have the Guards and half the country out looking for her.’
‘I don’t want to go back,’ Blue burst out. ‘I hate it there. Please don’t make me go back to Larch Hill, Mrs Mooney, please!’
Blue’s eyes filled with tears and she had a choking feeling in the back of her throat. She looked at the big man with his blinking brown eyes and balding head, and the small, plump woman, with her neatly permed grey hair, staring at her. These people were her only hope. But what could they do for her? She would soon be back with the nuns, for sure. Her heart sank.
Jimmy put two spoonfuls of sugar in his tea, and stirred it slowly, considering the situation.
‘Have you family, friends, anyone you can go to?’ asked Mrs Mooney.
Blue shook her head. ‘No one. I’m on my own.’
A stricken look passed over Nance Mooney’s face as she realised the implication of not having a relation in the world to call on or cling to. ‘My God, you poor little thing.’ Instinctively, she reached forward and hugged the girl. Blue sank into the warm flesh and scent of soap and rosewater. Her head snuggled into the plump shoulders and breast.
‘Here, Ma, the sausages are burning,’ said Jimmy.
Minutes later they were all sitting around the table. Hunger overwhelmed Blue and she devoured her plate of sausages and rashers, along with three slices of fried bread and another mug of tea.
‘There isn’t a pick on the child! She needs feeding up, if you ask me,’ announced Mrs Mooney. ‘Don’t they feed you proper in that place?’
Blue thought of the plates of disgusting, dreary food that was served in the home – lumpy porridge, stale bread, soapy potatoes, squelchy mash and runny, watery eggs, and, if there was meat, it was either too fatty or too greasy or too gristly to enjoy. The serving size never changed and there was never enough for the children to eat.
‘They do feed us,’ she hesitated, ‘but it’s nothing like this.’
A pleased look spread across the woman’s face.
‘Well, what are we going to do with her?’ insisted Jimmy.
Blue looked from one face to the other, hoping they wouldn’t send her back.
‘She looks exhausted,’ said his mother. ‘Maybe she could stay a while here and rest, get her breath back and have a bit of a sleep.’
‘I have to go back to work, Ma. She’d have to stay here with you.’
‘Away you go then, Jimmy,’ the woman said. ‘We’ll have a think about it and decide what to do when you get back. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.’
Blue watched through sleepy eyes as Jimmy pulled on his heavy jacket and got his car keys. She wondered would he arrive back with the police in tow to arrest her or with Sister Regina to drag her back to Larch Hill.
Mrs Mooney fussed around the kitchen tidying up, her feet encased in two big pink furry slippers, her ankles and legs wrapped in flesh-coloured tights that emphasised her varicose veins.
Blue felt warm and drowsy and full.
It was almost dark when she woke to find Mrs Mooney looking at her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she yawned. ‘Did I fall asleep?’
‘You’ve been dead to the world for the past four hours. I didn’t want to disturb you in case I gave you a fright.’
‘Is Jimmy back?’
‘Not yet. He’ll be home in a while.’
Blue sighed to herself. No doubt he’d be back any minute to drive her to Larch Hill.
‘I’ve got the dinner on, a nice shepherd’s pie. Do you like shepherd’s pie?’
Blue shrugged. She had no idea what it was. ‘I’m not used to fancy food,’ she explained.
Mrs Mooney burst out laughing. She laughed so hard she had to sit back down in her wide armchair.
‘Well, I never! That’s a good one. Shepherd’s pie a fancy food! You are a funny little thing. Do you know how to play cards?’
Blue shook her head. Sometimes a deck of cards would appear at the children’s home but usually there were cards missing from it. She could play Snap and Fish in the Pool, but these games usually caused rows and the cards ended up being flung in the air with annoyance.
‘Then it’s high time you learned.’ Nance Mooney took out a pack of cards from the drawer and dealt them each a hand, explaining the symbols and numbers to Blue and their worth. ‘We’ll play Twenty-one.’
Engrossed, Blue followed the instructions carefully, examining her cards and working out a strategy. Mrs Mooney got all excited whenever Blue managed to win a trick.
‘I tell you, Blue, you’re picking it up. I’ll soon have you playing poker and winning.’
Blue grinned. She liked Jimmy’s mother and the card-playing. While they played they talked. Blue told her about running away to Galway and how Mary and Tommy were reunited, and about the Hickeys and the Maguires, and about losing Jess and about kind Sister Monica and the other girls in Larch Hill, and what had happened with Sister Regina the time she left the newspaper clipping on the floor in her office.
Mrs Mooney reminisced about her late husband Paddy, who was the best husband a woman could have, and her daughter Terry, who lived in Dundalk with her husband John and had four children, and confided how hard it was for Jimmy since his wife had run off to Manchester with an old boyfriend and had taken their little boy Danny with her.
Poor Jimmy, thought Blue. She imagined his little boy in England never getting to see his daddy.
* * *
‘Don’t tell me you have the child playing cards already?’ joked Jimmy when he arrived home. Blue’s stomach sank at the thought of what he’d say about her and what they would decide to do.
‘Sit down, the dinner’ll be ready in a minute,’ said Mrs Mooney as she set out three place mats, and knives and forks, and Jimmy buried himself in the sports results in the evening newspaper.
The shepherd’s pie was delicious, full of meat and gravy and creamy potato on top. Blue ate it as slowly as she could, to savour every minute of sitting around the table with them while Jimmy told them about the tourist who left one of his bags in the car and gave him an extra big tip for returning it to his hotel and Mrs Mooney praised Blue’s card-playing abilities.
‘Still raining outside?’ asked Mrs Mooney.
‘Hasn’t let up all day.’
‘’Tis an awful night to be going back out in the rain and dark with the child. Maybe it would be best to let her sleep in the small room, just for the night, what d’ye think?’
Blue held her breath, waiting for his answer.
Jimmy Mooney hesitated, torn between doing what his heart told him and getting into trouble with the law.
‘All right, Ma, she can stay the night but I’ll have to take her back first thing in the morning after breakfast. We’ll be in terrible trouble if I don’t.’
Blue jumped up and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him on his big red cheek.
Mrs Mooney came up to check on her after she had settled in the comfy bed. The kind old woman brought her a glass of warm milk and a digestive biscuit. Blue lay, snuggled up under a layer of heavy woollen blankets and a feather quilt with three squashy pillows behind her head. She wore an old floral-patterned nightdress Mrs Mooney had given her and she had a warm hot-water bottle to cuddle up to as she gazed at the rosebud-patterned wallpaper and the gaily striped curtains, with the rain lashing down outside. She could hear from downstairs the sing-song voices of mother and son talking late into the night. She concentrated on every moment of warmth and comfort, so she could call it up in her imagination in the future. This was one time when there was no need to imagine herself in another place. Instead, she pretended that this was her room and this was her home.
Jimmy Mooney was quiet the next morning and Blue couldn’t help but be nervous as she ate the creamy porridge and slice of brown bread for breakfast. Her own clothes and shoes were dry again.
‘You’ll come back soon to visit us, love,’ said Nance Mooney kindly.
Blue nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She noticed that Jimmy had put on a clean shirt and tie and combed hair oil through his few strands of dark hair. Eventually he led her out to the narrow street of identical red-brick, terraced homes where his shiny black taxi cab was parked.
‘You take care, love, and don’t mind what any of those old rips of nuns say to you,’ advised Nance Mooney. Blue flung herself into the broad arms, not wanting to leave.
‘Come on, we’ve got to go,’ urged Jimmy, and Blue sat into the front seat of the car beside him.
Blue was determined not to cry or beg or let herself down as she resigned herself to returning to the place where she had been raised. There would be no more running away. No more escapes. Larch Hill was the only home she had and it was high time she accepted it. The nuns would kill her. They would make an example of her in front of the other girls and Sister Regina would have a suitable punishment planned for her. She tried not to shake when she thought about it, not wanting the fear to engulf her. Instead she thought about Mary and Tommy and prayed that both of them were okay.
Jimmy coughed. ‘You understand, Blue, that Mammy and I wouldn’t be suitable candidates to raise a child or foster one. Mammy’s too old and I’m on my own since Sheila left me.’
‘It’s all right,’ she sighed. ‘I understand.’
‘I already have a child, a little boy, Danny. He’s almost six and I never get to see him.’
‘Thank you and Mrs Mooney for taking me in and looking after me.’
She watched the buses and cars in front of them.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she lied. ‘Fine.’
The gates looked bigger, the wall even higher, as the car pulled up the driveway of Larch Hill. Mr Mooney came to a halt outside the front door. Blue swallowed hard as dread clenched her muscles. Jimmy, looking uncomfortable, opened the car door and walked with her up the steps to ring the bell. They heard distant footsteps on the tiled floor. Sister Agnes opened the door, her eyes widening when she saw Blue.
‘I found the child wandering along by the quays,’ offered Jimmy Mooney. ‘She was in a right state. Shock, I reckon.’
‘Thank you very much, sir, for returning Bernadette to us. We’ve been frantic with worry about her and had alerted the relevant authorities,’ said the nun. She smiled a false smile, her pale face taut with suppressed anger. ‘You can leave the child with me. I will bring her straight to our mother superior to tell her the good news that the child has been found safe and well. We are very grateful for your good deed. I will look after her now as you have already given up more than enough of your time to bring her here.’
‘What will happen her?’ he asked gruffly.
‘Happen?’ The nun looked perplexed. ‘Naturally, the child must learn that she cannot behave in such a fashion. Such things cannot be tolerated in a place like this. We have all the other children in our care to think of. She needs discipline and Sister Regina, our mother superior, will know what to do.’
Sister Agnes was trying to politely move the taxi driver out of the hall towards the door and back out to his car.
‘If you’ll excuse me, Sister,’ his face had flushed red, the veins on his neck standing out above his shirt collar, ‘I would like to meet Sister Regina. I think it’s important that I talk to her myself.’
‘She is very busy at present,’ muttered the nun.
‘Then I’ll wait.’ He stepped past Sister Agnes and lowered himself into a high-backed mahogany chair. ‘I’m not leaving here till I speak to her.’
Sister Agnes was unable to disguise her annoyance.
‘That child doesn’t need punishing,’ he explained slowly. ‘I reckon she’s had punishment enough.’
‘Well, that is for us, her guardians, to decide,’ replied the nun coldly.
‘I wouldn’t like to hear that one hair on the girl’s head had been harmed, or that a finger had been laid on her,’ the man said obstinately.
Sister Agnes moved her lips and face, but no words came out.
‘Bernadette, go upstairs immediately and wait in your room,’ she said eventually. ‘I will tend to you in time, so stay there, do you hear?’
‘Yes, Sister.’ Blue threw a grateful glance at Jimmy Mooney, who, despite his discomfort, looked like he was prepared to sit for hours if he had to.
‘You take care of yourself, Blue,’ he called as she began to walk up the stairs.