Mary Ann Shaughnessy - The Devil And Marianne Part 7

"Yes."

The girl nodded, and a little smile lighted up her grave face. Outside the door they surprised the girl from the other bed. She was rubbing vigorously at her face, and Lola said, off-handedly, "You make hit worse, Marian. You are not the honly one who cry today. Come on."

Marian, walking on the other side of Mary Ann, sniffed a number of times, then spoke across her to Lola. "I wasn't crying about coming back ... I wasn't really. It was when Sister Alvis told me I was in Beatrice's dorm. She's awful. She's hateful, I wish I wasn't nine."

Mary Ann, perhaps in an effort to comfort someone who looked and sounded as sad as she felt, said, "I'm only eight."

Now she had the attention of them both.

"Height?" said Lola. "But you should be down in zee Lower School. Thees is Middle School, nine to thirteen."

"But I'll soon be nine-in August."

They did not remark on this, but turning in the opposite direction from the main staircase they joined a ma.s.s of girls hurrying, but not running now, towards a narrower stairway at the end of the gallery.

Mary Ann could see nothing but gym-slips and white blouses until, reaching level ground again, she had her first glimpse of the dining-hall. Tables jutted out from the walls all round a great room, except for a s.p.a.ce at the bottom end, which was taken up by a long table running lengthwise. Still attached to Lola, she was guided to a table some way down the room and pushed into a seat. And there before her was a plate holding three slices of bread and b.u.t.ter, a square of cake and a dob of jam, and, leaning against it, a card which bore the words "Mary Ann Shaughnessy".

She was staring at the card when all shuffling was suddenly cut off. So quick did the silence fall, that she turned round to see the cause, and just as she glimpsed it her head was brought to the front again by a shove from Lola. But by straining her eyes sideways she could see, filing through a side _ door and into the centre of the hall down towards the. long table, a stream of nuns. She thought of them as a stream : she counted ten black-robed figures with white collars, and following these ten more in unrelieved black, and then, slightly behind, a small figure, so small that Mary Ann had the funny impression that the clothes were walking by themselves. She watched fascinated as they all filed into their seats, and towards the seat in the exact centre, facing the room, went the little black-encased figure.

"Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts which we receive through Thy bounty. Through Jesus Christ, Our Lord. Amen."

"Amen."

The echo by the school to the Reverend Mother's voice seemed to be the signal for activity. Six of the white-collared Sisters left the table, and going, one after the other, to a lift in the wall, reached into the depths and brought out great enamel teapots and proceeded to supply the tables.

The grace that had just been said was at this moment giving Ma*^=Ann a faint trace of comfort, for was it not the very same grace that she and their Michael said every day? After all, apart from its bigness, this school might be just like the one at Jarrow. That the grace was the only thing in common that the convent had with her late school was mercifully withheld from her.

"Eat your tea." A Sister was standing over her.

She looked up. "I'm not hungry, Sister."

"Nevertheless, eat your tea." The voice was low, thickened with an Irish tw.a.n.g, and the tone brooked no discussion.

Many of the plates about her were quickly emptied. Yet it was heartening to note that a number, like hers, still held a quant.i.ty of bread. So intriguing to her were the actions of the Sisters who were serving, and also the apparent immobility of all the black-robed figures at the top table, that when a little bell tinkled and the thin voice came again, saying the grace, the fifteen minutes the tea had taken seemed like one to her.

In silence, the top table was vacated, but as soon as the last nun had disappeared through the side door the room became a hive of busde, but, strangely, no chatter.

As Mary Ann went to move from her place, the Sister who had told her to eat her tea appeared again, but with a smile splitting her face now, and dropping to her hunkers, which in itself was a surprise, as Mary Ann had always been in some indecision whether or not there really were real legs beneath the skirts of nuns, she took Mary Ann's hands and said in a voice gurgling with laughter, "Mary Ann Shaughnessy. What a name! Are you from Ireland, child?"

"No. No, Sister." Who, even with all the sadness of the world on their shoulders, could help but smile back into this round, beaming face.

"No? But your father was?"

"No. Well, yes. . . ." There had always been a doubt about this, but how could she say, "Me da was an orphan without any name and the name Shaughnessy was just given him. They took it from the porter who picked him up at the gate." She had never said, even to herself, "Workhouse gate."

"Ah, ha! Now don't try and tell me you're Welsh or something with a name like Shaughnessy.... Shaughnessy. Oh ! what a lovely mouthful. And what a North Country voice it is." She patted Mary Ann's cheek as she got to her feet. "Well, there, off you go. . . . Oh, you're with Lola? That's grand; Lola'll look after you."

The Sister patted Lola's cheek now, and for the first time Lola really smiled, and Mary Ann thought, She's nice, I like her, which could have meant, in this case, either or both of them.

"I'll take you to Mother St. Francis."

"Will you?" They were now in the Lower Hall. "What do they call that Sister?"

"Sister Alvis."

"Oh." A question arose in Mary Ann's mind. "Why do they call some Mother and some Sister?" she asked.

"The Mothers har mostly teachers, the Sisters do the work. They har the ones who wear the white collars."

"Oh. ... Is the Reverend Mother nice?"

"She ces all right. You weel not see much of her. Come this way."

More corridors.

"Will you wait for me? I'll get lost comin' back."

"Yes." */ "And will you show me what to do? I don't want that Beatrice to show me."

"She wouldn't, hin any case."

"But the Sister told her." Mary Ann's eyes widened.

"Sister Catherine is always telling her. She tries to punish her by geeving her duties, but it makes no

deefference. You will see has time goes on."

"Are you from a foreign country?"

"Yes." Lola now smiled down on her. "France and Germany."

"Two!"

"Yes, my mother is French and my father German. But you, too, are from a foreign country."

"Me ! " Mary Ann stopped, slightly indignant. "Me ! No, I'm not, I'm from England, Jarrow."

"Oh. Ha! ha!" It was a small laugh and did not annoy Mary Ann in the least, nor did the insult to her

beloved North which followed. lf[t is, nevertheless, odd how you talk-very guyjwal. Some people in France speak like thees. You will soon mend it here. I am only three terms, and I am mending mine very much."

Mary Ann didn't know now whether she wanted her voice mended-mending it, she understood, would make it sound sw.a.n.ky. And yet, that's what she was here for, that's why Mr. Lord had sent her.

"Here is Mother St. Francis."

They were approaching a nun. She had a round, fat face and, not to be disguised by her habit, a round, fat body. She looked about sixty, but appeared like a hundred to Mary Ann.

"Mother, this is Mary Ann Shaughnessy. She ees to see Reverend Mother."

"Ah, yes. h.e.l.lo, my child."

"Hallo, Sister-Mother."

"You are small. You're in Middle House, aren't you? Yes-

I remember. I'm the bursar, I look after your money." She laughed. "And your letters and everything-and everything. You see? Come along this way. From the Tyne, are you? I know the Tyne. . . . Ah, yes, this way. You wait, Lola."

It was evident to Mary Ann that Mother St. Francis didn't need any answers, she gave them all to herself. She talked quickly as she waddled along.

"Now when Reverend Mother asks you a question, you answer 'Yes', or 'No, Reverend Mother', you see? And don't speak unless you are spoken to. You see? There now, here we are."

A tap on a door, to which a small voice replied, and they were i aside the room. And there was the little woman, sitting behind a big desk. As Mary Ann was pressed nearer she could see less and less of her, until, standing right close up to the desk, there seemed only the head and shoulders left.

"And you are Mary Ann?"

"Yes, Sis-Reverend Mother."

"And you've come a long journey by yourself?"

"Yes, Reverend Mother."

"And do you think you will like being here?"

"No, Reverend Mother."

There, it had dropped out before she could stop it. And on its heels came a little gasp from herself and a

loud one from somewhere behind her, but from across the table came a laugh, a little tinkling laugh that reminded her somehow of the bell that went just before you had Communion.

"Come here."

She followed the beckoning finger and went round the side of the desk, and there two small, dry hands took hers.

"Let me look at you."

The Reverend Mother looked at Mary Ann, and Mary Ann looked back at her, wondering that anybody

so small could be in such a position of majesty-she didn't, at close quarters, seem much bigger than herself.

"Tell me, child, how is my brother?"

Her brother? Mary Ann's mouth fell open in perplexity, and then snapped quickly closed as she

remembered that this person before her was Mr. Lord's sister. How this could be she didn't

rightly know for Mr. Lord wasn't a Catholic and he didn't, she felt, like Catholics. She didn't connect "turning" with the woman before her-no one could "turn" into a Reverend Mother.

"He's all right."

"He's well?"

"He gets cold now and then, but that's because he lives in that big old house and he's only got Ben to see to him. When he comes to live at the farm, me ma. . . ."

"Ahem!"

The sound was behind her again, and she finished lamely, "She'll see he's all right-Reverend Mother."

"He is very interested in you, my child."

She gave no answer to this, for didn't she know it. Look where it had landed her. She was forgetting

again where it had also landed her father and mother and Michael.

"And he desires that you learn, and learn well. Are you going to do that?"

"Yes-Reverend Mother."

"That's a good child. Now go with Mother St. Francis, and G.o.d bless you and make you happy here."

Her hands were released, she was turned about by her guide and, the next minute she was in the corridor