The Ladies' Midnight Swimming Club(54)

‘The truth is, even if you manage to locate the wretch of a mother who gave birth to you, there’s a very good chance she won’t want you any more now than she did back then.’ Berthilde spat at him and he knew that this was it. He’d come to the end of his search, such as it was. It hadn’t been long. A couple of forms filled in and sent off to the health service and a day spent trawling through scant social work records that meant nothing to him really. He got up from the chair opposite, considered wishing the old nun good luck, but had a feeling she’d rather if he just left.

Outside, in the corridor, he stood for a moment to gather his composure. He felt winded by the nastiness of the old girl. What kind of person turns into someone like that? he wondered.

‘Fancy seeing you here?’ Lucy’s warm voice dragged him back into more familiar surroundings.

‘Yes, I was visiting Sister Berthilde.’

‘Ooh, lucky you,’ Lucy said ironically. ‘Is she her usual bundle of laughs?’

‘Hmm, well, it depends on what you find funny, I suppose,’ he said, but he felt utterly deflated after the visit.

‘Oh, she’s always been a complete dragon, don’t mind her,’ she said and he joined her as they both made their way back towards reception. ‘You were braver than most to come anywhere near her.’

‘I almost wish I hadn’t now.’ He wasn’t sure if he was more upset with her words to him or at how upset Elizabeth had become.

‘Are you all right? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘I…’ He stopped for a moment, looking out towards a small residents’ patio. He was too deflated to keep this secret any longer. ‘Unfortunately, Sister Berthilde was my last chance.’

‘Your last chance?’ Lucy stood for a moment and then her eyes widened, and he could almost see her adding up his interest in St Nunciata’s and his visit to the nun. ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry, I never realised. You weren’t pinning your hopes on that evil old bat?’ Lucy shook her head.

‘I’ve tried everything else I can think of and Elizabeth suggested perhaps asking her for help. I’m glad it’s not just me?’ Dan asked hopefully.

‘Definitely not. She’s always been a bit barmy and nasty too. Really, when you hear horror stories about what happened in some of those places, I always think old Berthilde is the devil incarnate and it only takes one bad egg.’

‘I’d say she’s rotten to the core all right.’ He smiled then. ‘At least Elizabeth gave her what for.’

‘Good for her. You’re not giving up though.’ They were at reception now. The ponytailed girl had left her post and Lucy dropped the medical folder she’d been carrying on the desk, pulling a pen from her jacket to fill in whatever updates it needed. ‘Are you?’

‘There’s not much else I can do. I’ve filled in all the forms; Sister Berthilde was my last hope.’

‘Have you tried Mother Agatha?’ She looked at him then, waiting for him to say ‘yes’ probably.

‘Mother Agatha?’ he repeated as if he’d just lost the ability to reason.

‘Hang on, let me fill this in and we’ll have a chat outside.’ Lucy flicked open the file, wrote in her notes quickly and signed with a flourish, by which time the receptionist had returned and she confirmed that all was well with the patient she’d come to see, temperature down and it looked like there was nothing to worry about.

‘So, Mother Agatha?’ he repeated a little stupidly as they made their way towards the car park.

‘Yes. Have you met her? No. Of course you haven’t, she’s been living with her family over in Ballybrack for the last few years. Arthritis, really very debilitating, according to Mum; it’s totally riddled her spine and spread out from there. She can hardly walk at this stage. That’s the thing about these women: they suffer on in silence for years and by the time they actually go to a doctor there is so little to be done about things.’ Lucy smirked. ‘Well, I’m not sure Berthilde ever suffered in silence, but then, thankfully, she’s a rare old kettle of piranhas.’ They had reached Elizabeth who was standing next to her car.

‘I’m so sorry, Dan, but that woman – honestly, she’s had it coming for a long time.’

‘Don’t worry; she deserved every word of it,’ Dan said smiling at Elizabeth. ‘Look who I met and she’s just been talking about a nun called Mother Agatha.’

‘Of course, Mother Agatha – I never thought of her, but I’m not sure she’d know a lot about Saint Nunciata’s. She worked mostly in the local hospital, helping in the maternity ward.’

‘Still, I’d love to go and see her if there’s a chance she might know something…’ Dan heard the words trip from his tongue, despite the fact that only a few minutes earlier he’d promised himself this would be it. No more. Let sleeping dogs lie and all that jazz.

‘Unlike Berthilde—’ Lucy nodded back towards the nursing home ‘—Mother Agatha will be thrilled to have a visitor. She was the last Reverend Mother in the convent, so she’d surely have a good idea of where you might be able to track down more records.’

‘Did they send all of the babies over to English families, do you think?’