The Sister(47)

Jackie looked up at the sky in a daze, exactly as she did that day as if looking through an invisible ceiling. She thought she saw herself, a reflection, a trick of the light. She’d taken on a ghostly appearance. Hair no longer dark, eyes no longer brown, a voice rasped, ‘Leave her alone!’ It didn’t seem real.

Startled, he turned around to look; the voice had given her vital seconds. She was choking; he was spooked. She heard Gilda’s familiar bossy voice nearby.

‘Leave – our – friend – alone!’

The rapist hid his face, rolled away and launched off down the hill, making his escape. She heard him thrashing through the long grass.

Her two friends ran to her. She was rubbing at her bare flesh with clumps of grass held tight in her hands, trying to clean herself, trying to get his smell off her.

‘Why didn’t I fight back?’ she whispered. ‘I should have fought back!’ She began to sob.

What happened that day started a life-long friendship between the girls.

Two blamed themselves for what happened to the third. Jackie developed an obsession with cleanliness and a pathological hatred for cigarette smokers; she would never be the same.





Sister sat with her head forward over the table, breathing in great gulps of air. When she’d recovered sufficiently, she levelled a look at Jackie.

‘Sweet mother of Jesus, so that’s what happened to you!’ Jackie didn’t answer; there was no need to speak. There was pain for her in The Sister’s eyes. Jackie wept; relieved at last, she’d been able to share the experience with someone who understood.

‘And the child, it’s his, isn’t it?’

Jackie nodded.

‘And you asked me for the truth, didn’t you?’

Jackie nodded again.

‘You already know the truth!’

Jackie looked at her; wetness smudged the mascara round her eyes, making them look large and afraid.

‘That child deserves better than you would give if you kept it.’

Jackie paused between each word as she repeated, ‘If – I – kept – it…?’

‘That’s right, if you kept it. You won’t have an abortion because you’re a good catholic girl, but 'Good Catholic Girl', you’ve been tainted. No, it’s not your fault, not at all. You'd come to resent it, the child. You don’t think so now. You don’t believe it, but if you kept her that is what would happen.’

‘Her? You know it’s a girl?’

The Sister continued, ‘She can’t help how she came to be, but you’ll punish her for it.’ She rested a gloved hand on Jackie’s forearm. ‘It would be the kindest thing, to give her a chance to be loved by someone else in the way that you cannot. It’s for the best, Jackie, in your heart y'know it’s the truth.’

The tiny bell over the shop door tinkled as another customer arrived.

She helped Jackie out and down the steps.

‘Keep well, Jackie. Oh, and there’s something else. I’ll be looking out for you from now on.’ She touched her forefinger to her lips as if it were a secret.

Jackie thought she recognised the man in the lobby. She pointed at him and then at Sister. With the question on her face, she did not have to speak.

‘Hello, Jackie,’ the man said with a half-smile, he looked different without his glasses. ‘Even psychiatrists need a bit of help with the future, from time to time.’

She supposed that was how he came to recommend she came here. She made her way out of the gloomy shop, back into daylight. Freed of making the decision by herself, she felt incredibly light on her feet despite the additional weight she was carrying. She held her belly in both hands. The cold light of the day only strengthened her resolve.

She wondered what help Dr Ryan needed with the future.





Chapter 34



On Sunday morning, two days after her consultancy with the Sister, Jackie doubled up in pain. The baby was coming early. That evening just as darkness fell, she gave birth. It was a girl.

In a strange way, having the child gave Jackie something she could focus on. Abortion had been out of the question; it wasn’t the child’s fault, but she knew she couldn’t keep it. In time, she’d grow to resent it, questioning every foible and fault, believing it came from him. It was far better she allowed the child a chance at life, free and unhindered from what her father was.

So when the time came, it was not without sorrow that she gave her up. She knew she must.

Tears came; she wept for the part of her that was gone and pined for what might have been. It’s for the best… Cursing the Sister’s words and the hand that fate had dealt her, she wiped her face dry.





Nature can be cruel and seemingly illogical at first glance. In the wild, a TV cameraman films a trio of prideless, nomadic male lions as they come across two isolated females. They attack their cubs. The lionesses fight desperately to protect their young. Once the males succeed in killing the cubs, a strange thing happens. Nature and instinct take over in an unexpected development. The females begin flirting outrageously with the males, parading with sexual swagger, back and forth, getting close, head rubbing, tails flicking across the male’s flanks. The heat of a new breeding cycle begins, triggered by the savage loss of their cubs. They mate with the killers of their offspring. No bereft human female would behave in such a way with the executioner of her children.