Ettie felt the pain so violently, it felt like an earthquake inside her. But nothing could alter the look of defeat on Sister Patrick’s face.
Whether or not the nuns approved of Rome’s directive, it had to be obeyed. But it was such a dreadful, unkind and heartless directive! It tore people apart and caused such loss, that Ettie, for the first time, questioned the faith on which she had built her life.
CHAPTER 3
THE CONVENT’S schoolroom was very old, with brown-painted walls and ink stains smudging the desks and floor. A grey and depressing light seeped in from the broken windows. In the very same manner as Ettie had held tightly to Sister Patrick, the little girls held fast to Ettie. ‘We don’t want to go,’ they wailed, cuffing the snot from their noses.
Ettie had just delivered the news. She wanted to tell the children herself. They had to prepare themselves.
‘I want to stay here with you,’ Kathy insisted.
Ettie lifted the little girl's chin. ‘Say your prayers. Jesus will look after you.’
‘We’re being got rid of!’ accused Johnny Dean, scratching nervously at one of his disfigured ears.
‘The nuns don’t give a farthing about us,’ agreed Michael Wilson, who looked very angry as he clenched his fists. Ettie always smiled when he bragged he was older and wiser than her. Though tall and skinny as a rake, he was very strong. ‘We’ll be turfed out on the street,' he declared. 'Or sent to the workhouse.'
Ettie looked into his rebellious grey eyes. ‘Where is your faith Michael?’
’The only faith I’ve got,’ he shouted dramatically, ‘is in myself!’ His face darkened as he poked a finger at her. ’Can the nuns stop the rozzers from nabbing me the moment I step out of this place?’
Ettie felt her tummy turn over. He could be right, for it was only the nuns intervention with the law that had prevented Michael’s arrest.
‘God will provide,’ she promised. ‘He'll answer your prayers.'
'He’s never answered them before,' came the reply. ‘Why should he answer them now?’
Ettie wanted to remind him that it was only because of the nuns request to the police that he wasn’t now incarcerated in the boys’ reformatory. But she knew this would upset him even more.
From the smaller children there were sobs and gulps as they listened to this harsh exchange. How could she reassure them?
‘Let’s say our prayers,’ she said and obediently they kneeled on the floor. All, except Michael.
'May God surround us with His light,' she prayed fervently. ‘May He enfold us with His love. May He protect us and guide us, so that forever we will remain safe in the palm of His hand.'
‘I’m clearing out,’ interrupted Michael, kicking his boot against a desk. ‘While I’ve got the chance.’ He grabbed his grubby cloth cap from the chair. ‘Good luck to all of you. You’ll need it.’
The younger ones began to cry and Ettie went to comfort them. 'Michael, don’t go,’ she pleaded.
‘Why should I stay?’ demanded the angry boy, his cheeks burning as he stood at the door.
'I don't know exactly, but please think again.’
He pulled up his ill-fitting trousers and tossed back his straggly dark hair. Plonking the cap on his head, he looked outside and shouted, 'I'm off while no one's looking.'
The door banged behind him and the orphans wept even more.
Ettie followed Michael into the cold and draughty passage. 'Michael, you can't leave,’ she called.
‘Who says I can’t?’
‘Where will you go?'
He gave a careless shrug. ‘I'll manage.’
‘But how?’
'Listen Ettie, you don't understand the world. You've lived in the convent too long. You don't know what life’s like on the outside.'
Ettie agreed she had led a sheltered life, but how bad could the world be? Hadn't Michael learned to trust the nuns even a little? Tears bulged in the corners of her eyes.
'Crikey, Ettie don't cry.’ Michael looked confused. He put his arm around her.
'You're making me sad.'
'I don't mean to,’ he said, squeezing her shoulder. ‘You and the other kids, well, I like you all.’ He added in a gruff tone, ‘You, mostly.’
Ettie stared up at him. Suddenly he seemed much taller and older than she was, though only one and a half years separated them.
‘I’ve never said that to a girl before.’
‘Really?’ Ettie sniffed.
‘It means something special when you tell a girl you like her.’
Ettie smiled, forgetting her tears. ‘Thank you.’
‘But listen!’ He pushed her away. ‘Don’t get no ideas. I’m not staying, not even for you.’
Ettie felt sad. She would miss this boy with the beautiful grey eyes, but who spoke words that could be so hurtful.
‘Friends are supposed to look after each other,’ Ettie said softly.
‘I’d be no good to you if I stayed.’
‘Why not?’
Michael stared at her solemnly. ’Do you really think the bishop couldn’t help the nuns if he wanted?’
This was a question that took her by surprise.
‘Listen, the Roman candles are rich, Ettie,’ he continued passionately. They’ve got more money stacked away than the Queen of England. If the bishop wanted, he could flog that ring on his finger and buy a whole new orphanage! But he won’t. ‘Cos this is the East End and out of favour with the toffs who fill his coffers. Mark my words, the sisters are done for.’
'Michael,’ she gasped, ‘please stop.’
‘It's the truth. I'm older than you - and wiser.'
Ettie wanted to say that he must be wrong, but the words seemed to stick in her throat. ‘Stay for the children,’ she begged one last time.
Michael took hold of her shoulders. ‘Sorry, kid.’
'You're really set on going?'
He nodded.
She flung her arms around him. 'Oh, Michael, I've grown so fond of you.'
He held her gently as though she was china. 'Tell you what,' he mumbled and made a show of straightening his jacket. 'We'll meet up somewhere like Victoria Park.’
‘Victoria Park? Is it close by?’
‘Just down Old Ford Road.’
Ettie nodded uncertainly, her brown hair falling across her eyes. ‘When?’
’First Sunday in December. Three o’clock sharp at the water fountain.’
‘I’ll try.’
Michael laughed cruelly.
