Eighteen
Veronica
“Bryce? I have something to tell you.” My fingers drummed on the desk. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. I didn’t want to have this conversation right after my father’s death.
“About your father?”
“My father passed away earlier today.”
He sucked in his breath.
“Oh my God, Veronica! Why didn’t you call me? I can be on the next plane to New York. I’m so sorry.”
“No, Bryce, I don’t need…I don’t need you to come.”
“Why not? Of course, I’ll be there.”
“No, Bryce. I want to end this.”
“End what?”
“Our engagement. It’s off.” I clutched Ash’s handkerchief in my hand.
“Why, Veronica? You don’t mean that you’re just upset over your father. I love you. I’ll be there on the next flight out. Just let me call the company jet.”
“NO! It’s over, Bryce, I’m sorry. Ash and I are back together. This is what I want. I’m so sorry.”
“Veronica! This is nonsense. Let me come be with you. I don’t care what you’ve done with Ash Blackthorne. Let me be there.”
“No. Bryce, it’s over. I’ll call you in a few days.” With that, I hung up on him. Falling back on my bed, I felt my world collapsing. My phone kept vibrating, but I just ignored it. I knew Bryce deserved a better explanation than that.
Suddenly, there was a sharp knock at my door.
“Ronnie? It’s me.” Ash opened the door. He was dressed casually in black pants and a grey pullover.
“Come in, Ash.” I swung the door open.
“Ronnie, how are you?” He pulled me into a tight embrace. I stood in stony silence not feeling anything.
“I can’t believe he’s gone, Ash. There’s just so much happening right now. I just can’t think straight.” I pulled away to grab a tissue from the box.
Ash rubbed my back gently.
“It’s okay, Ronnie. I know how much it hurts to lose your father.” He sighed running his hands over his thick hair.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t with you when you lost your father. He was a kind man.”
Ash smiled weakly. The pain in his eyes was reflected in my own with the shared experience of losing our fathers.
“When my father told me he had cancer, I refused to believe it. He was such a strong man, powerful in business and in life. He had a younger girlfriend and they were traveling the world in his new yacht. He had just finished making a huge acquisition overseas. I had noticed he’d been a bit rundown, so I asked him to go to the doctor. Of course, as always, he blew me off.”
I smiled recalling how stubborn Ash’s father had been.
“One day in his office during a very important meeting he collapsed. He was rushed to the hospital where they diagnosed him with stage four pancreatic cancer. He was given less than six weeks to live. It was his girlfriend, Fiona, who told me about it. I was doing business in LA at the time, but I flew home immediately.”
I gasped, biting my lip. What a shock that must’ve been for Ash. I wished I would’ve been there for him.
“When I got back to New York, he was already discharged from the hospital. They recommended hospice care, but he refused any further treatment. He had been born at his family’s estate in upstate New York and he’d die there is what he told me.”
Ash stood up walking over to the fire. He stoked the fire as he spoke.
“Ronnie, the doctors told me he’d be gone in six weeks. My father was so stubborn and strong he lasted nearly three months.”
“Wow.” I walked over to stroke Ash’s back.
He turned to me with tears in his eyes.
“I used to tell him he was so stubborn that heaven wouldn’t take him and hell wouldn’t have him.” Ash laughed at the memory.
“Just like you,” I whispered.
Ash ignored my comment.
“I stayed by his side the entire three months. I moved back into our family home with him. We spent the days playing tennis, fishing, or hiking whenever he felt up to it. Those last days were magical. I’d been so angry with my father when I was younger. At times, I blamed him for my mother leaving then for my stepmother leaving with my baby sister. Like your father, he seemed to want to make me into something I wasn’t. After college, I wanted to go into the Navy. I wanted to serve my country. I didn’t want to be just another stuck-up Ivy League graduate from the Upper East Side. My father wouldn’t hear of it. He insisted I go into business with him. We had a huge blow-out on the night of my college graduation. I told him I’d already enlisted in the Navy.”
I nodded. I knew he had done a tour of duty as a naval officer prior to entering graduate school.
“I take it he was upset by that?”
Ash nodded, his eyes crinkled with laughter.
“He never understood my need to do that, but in time he grew to respect me for it. When I was finished with my tour, I came back and interned for his business for the summer before going to Harvard Business School.”
“I remember how proud he was when you graduated.” I recalled the day we both graduated and our fathers both stood in the audience beaming with pride.
“Yes, he was,” he sighed deeply. “I want you to know, Ronnie, how much I understand what you’re going through. The pain never goes away, but time makes it easier to deal with.”
Then Ash pulled something from his pants pocket. It was a small gold lapel pin with several small diamonds in it. I’d seen him wear it countless times.
“Ronnie, this was my father’s. This was the logo of the first company he started when he was only twenty four years old. My grandfather had it made for him. He wore it until the day he died. It wasn’t the most expensive lapel pin he had, but it meant everything to him. On the morning he passed he called me in to speak with him. His voice was shaky, barely above a whisper. He motioned for me to remove the pin from his shirt. I took it off and handed it to him. His old, gnarled hand pressed it into mine.” Ash trailed off holding the pin. He ran his fingers over it lovingly his eyes shining with tears.
“He said, ‘Ash, always remember where you came from because your first success is always your sweetest.’ So, I carry this pin with me everywhere to remind me of him.”
Ash fastened the pin to his shirt.
“And he was right.”
Tears coursed down my cheeks. My heart bled for his loss as well as my own. Ash had an advantage over me in that his father truly loved him. I doubted mine ever really had. I knew before we could any further I needed to tell Ash about my own sad, traumatic past. It was bound to come up in the days that followed when my father’s sister, Shannon arrived for the funeral.
“Ash, before we go any further there’s something I need to tell you. I know I should’ve told you this years ago.”
Ash looked up at me puzzled. He was lying back on the bed with his hands behind his head.
“What, Ronnie?”
I stood up and walked over to the bar. I poured two glasses of scotch.
“Take this, you’ll need it.”
He rolled out of bed and walked over to the chair next to me. The fire was crackling merrily in the fireplace as night had fallen outside.
“Ronnie, you can tell me anything.” He placed his hand on mine.
I nodded finishing my liquor in one swallow.
“You know that I was raised by my father. My mother died of breast cancer when I was six years old. I was left all alone with my father in that huge Manhattan penthouse. He raised me to be a devout Catholic like his parents before him. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but my father’s family is from Ireland. They immigrated here when he was only four.”
He pursed his lips as he considered what I’d just said.
“Ronald doesn’t seem to be an Irish name to me. I know you once said your father’s family was from Ireland I just didn’t know he wasn’t born in the US.”
“His real name was Malachy James. My grandparents changed his name to Ronald when they arrived in America fearing that he would be less successful in the business world with such an Irish name. During that time, in New York there was a great deal of prejudice against Irish immigrants or so was my grandparents’ perception. My grandfather met a kind man who helped him start his own business named Ronald so they took to calling my father by that name.”
Ash finished his drink.
“Ronnie, is that it? I have a feeling there’s more.”
I sighed deeply massaging my temples.
“Yes, there is, Ash. After my mother died, my father put me into a Catholic girls’ school in Manhattan. He demanded that I be ladylike at all times. I wasn’t even allowed to wear pants until I was ten years old. He groomed me for New York society and always spoke of the fabulous debutante ball I would be invited to when I was eighteen. He never asked me what I wanted. He handpicked my dates, sons of wealthy, prominent New York businessmen. I hated it. The boys he selected for me were just as sleazy and sex-crazed as the guys I wanted to date from Brooklyn, but my father wouldn’t hear of that. So, when I was seventeen I had been secretly dating a boy from the Bronx. He was your typical blue collar guy who liked to work on cars. Unfortunately, my father refused to put me on the pill so I found myself…” I trailed off ashamed to go any further.
“Pregnant?” He finished.
I nodded.
“Yes. So naturally when my father found out he was furious. Initially, I wanted to end the pregnancy, but I just couldn’t do that. He forced me to go to a home for wayward girls in England where my Aunt Shannon had volunteered.”
“So what happened? I never knew you’d been pregnant.” Ash looked alarmed. He poured himself another scotch and stood against the chair.
I sighed feeling all the pain of the past erupting inside me. I knew it was time to tell Ash everything. I knew I risked losing him, but he had to know.
Fall 1997
The huge gothic Victorian school loomed before me. The sky was dark and ominous as the limo drove up the circular drive. I sat with my hands clutching my skirt as I gazed out at what was to be my new home for the next nine months.
My father sat beside me his face stern and frowning. Overnight it seemed he’d aged his once dark hair now peppered with silver. I’d been forced to inform my friends that I was going overseas for a special “educational opportunity” for my junior year of high school. I’d been dreading this day since the day my father had found out about my pregnancy. Fortunately, I hadn’t experienced any unpleasant pregnancy symptoms like morning sickness although I’d noticed a slight bulging across my middle. I was still quite thin, but I’d already gone up a cup size. It wasn’t noticeable to others, as I’d been big breasted since I was thirteen.
“Quite impressive, don’t you think, Veronica? The architecture of this building is exquisite.”
I shrugged looking at the huge building. It was formidable and ugly to me. My stomach twisted into knots.
“Your Aunt Shannon told me it was built in 1857. This building has a long, interesting history. Perhaps you can read about it yourself to keep your mind occupied, but I suspect the sisters here will see to that.” He nodded.
I groaned inwardly. The heavy breakfast I’d consumed after our flight had arrived now seemed to be disagreeing with me.
The car pulled to a stop. I looked out the window and noticed several young men who appeared to be about my age doing repair work on a sidewalk.
“Who are they?” I muttered to my father. “I thought this was a girls’ school.”
He snorted with disdain.
“The help, I imagine, Veronica. Come now, we have a meeting with Sister Bridget.”
The driver carried my two suitcases inside following us. My entire seventeen years had been reduced to those two small bags.
As we walked into the school, immediately my senses were overwhelmed with the strong, musty odor of age. Years of repression also contributed to the heavy, cloistering aroma. I felt myself falling back into the 19th century. My father walked around admiring the Victorian architecture as I felt my gorge rise in my throat.
Just then, a heavy door squeaked open and a middle aged woman dressed in a nun’s habit gestured to us.
“I’m Sister Bridget. I assume you are Mr. James.” She nodded to my father to sit. She hadn’t even glanced my way yet.
Her skin was crisscrossed with fine lines. Her lips were an angry red slash. She had a rather large pale brown birthmark her right cheek. The shape reminded me of the African continent. Her voice didn’t have a typical British accent. Since I had spent every Christmas with my father’s family in Ireland, my ears detected a familiar Irish lilt.
“Mr. James, you have agreed to leave your daughter with us until she gives birth, is that correct?”
“Yes, Sister. I’m also hoping that you can improve her mental and spiritual life as well. Obviously, she’s lacking in both areas.”
Sister Bridget gave a curt nod.
“Obviously. Well, Mr. James, while our establishment is quite old we do enjoy the luxuries of modern medicine. Every medical need of your daughter’s will be met in order to ensure she gives birth to a healthy baby. No need for an innocent baby to suffer for the sins of its’ mother.”
I cringed. She still hadn’t made eye contact with me.
“Just to be clear, Mr. James, we have already arranged for a wonderful, local Catholic family to adopt the baby when she gives birth.”
“That’s exactly what we want. And no one will know she was ever here? I’m rather prominent in New York society I can’t have this getting out.”
Always he was concerned about his precious reputation. It sickened me.
“Discretion is the key, Mr. James. Most of the parents of the girls here are faced with the same issue. A sinful child can be such a burden.”
Finally, she fixed her gaze upon me. She looked at me as if I were a loathsome creature rather than a young woman.
“Don’t worry, Mr. James. The sisters and I will assist your daughter with learning how to atone for her sins. When you retrieve her in nine months, I expect she’ll be quite different, for the better I might add.”
“Veronica, I will come for you after the birth and we shall return to New York. Please listen to what the sisters tell you and perhaps we can make a fresh start.” He extended his arms to me. I buried my face in his coat heavy sobs erupting from me. Despite my anger at him, he was leaving me all alone in a foreign country with nuns I expected would deal quite harshly with me.
“Please, don’t go, Daddy! Please! I’ll be good, I promise!”
He pried my fingers from his arm.
“Now, Veronica, you’ll be fine. The sisters will take good care of you.”
After a few minutes of struggling, he left the building. I was tempted to run after him, but Sister Bridget’s bony fingers found my arm.
“Sit down, girl. Let me tell you what you can expect living here. This is not a summer camp or a luxury boarding school. You are here because you committed the sin of fornication. As a result, you have also found yourself pregnant with a child out of wedlock.”
This was 1997. What the hell century was she living in? There were millions out of wedlock births every year!
“You will likely find our accommodations less than the five star hotels you are used to frequenting. Our rooms are modest. Our nourishment is modest. You will be given three square meals a day. They will not be lavish, but they will nourish you and your unborn child. You will work while you are here.”
“My father said I was to attend school here.”
“Don’t interrupt me, girl!” She smacked the desk with her palm.
“You will attend classes here from 7 AM until 10 AM. The rest of the day will entail work. You will do penance for your sins by working. The sisters and I find that hard work enriches the soul and gives the mind a healthy focus. All the girls here work daily despite their pregnancies.”
I shrank back into the plastic cushioned chair.
“What…what kind of work?”
She smirked at me.
“I expect you’re a spoiled, pampered society girl. Never worked a minute in your life. Well, here you will do the chores you are assigned. We were given this building by the historical society to renovate and maintain. You will do such chores as mopping the floors, cleaning the bathrooms, washing clothes. Sometimes we have you do outdoor work on pleasant days.”
I swallowed hard. I wasn’t afraid of work just hard work while I was pregnant.
“We have prayer three times daily. You will be sharing a room with another wayward girl like yourself.”
She stood up indicating I should follow her.
“Another thing, girl. We don’t condone the use of cosmetics here. You will keep yourself clean and neat. No fancy soaps, perfumes, or other toiletries.” With that, she reached up and jerked out the jeweled clip I had in my hair.
“No jewelry with exception of religious jewelry. No ‘exotic’ undergarments. You will be given a nightdress, plain white underwear, and a uniform to wear.” She eyed the beautiful crucifix around my neck hanging from a white gold chain. It had belonged to my mother.
I clutched my bags to me.
“I can’t wear my own clothes? But…”
She snatched my suitcases from me.
“You will have these returned to you when you leave. Come now, we have much to do.”
As the heavy door to her office closed, I felt the outside world being closed off to me. The place looked like a prison. As I walked behind Sister Bridget, we turned off the long corridor into the right wing of the building.
Dozens of rooms were housed in that wing. The ceilings were quite high, but the windows were unnaturally small. Finally, near the end of the corridor Sister Bridget turned and opened a door.
“Here is another wayward girl to join us, Hannah.” Sister Bridget stood in the doorway to a sparsely furnished room. It was small with two twin beds adorned with plain white bedspreads. There was a small window between them. The walls were a sickly beige color and bare. The only decorations being a large crucifix and a portrait of the Virgin Mary.
Lovely.
“Pleased to meet you.” A girl about my age with brown hair cut unevenly extended her hand. She spoke with a heavy Cockney accent. Her stomach swelled slightly beneath the heavy, ugly brown uniform.
“Here are your garments, a bar of soap, toothbrush, and comb. Prayers are at five PM followed by dinner.”
With that, the hateful nun disappeared.
Taking the items she’d given me, I walked over to the vacant bed and sank down. As I suspected, the mattress was like a rock.
“No pillow?” I looked around.
Hannah shook her head.
“The sisters say that earthly comforts create a desire to sin. If you want to, you can ball up your towel to use as a pillow. That’s what I do.”
Hannah sat down on her bed.
“You’re very pretty.”
“Thank you.”
Hannah shook her head sadly.
“That won’t serve you well here.” She said ominously.
Again, I felt my stomach twitch. Feeling faint, I leaned back on the bed.
“What happened to your hair?”
Hannah again looked sad running her hands over her ragged hair.
“Hope you never find out.” With that, she curled up on her bed.
The next morning at 5 AM sharp we were awoken by the sound of the church bells ringing.
“Get up!” Hannah hissed bent over me. I rubbed my eyes and looked around. I was so hoping this had all been just a bad dream. Seeing the Spartan room, I knew this was no dream.
Sitting down at breakfast, I was surrounded by several hundred other unfortunate ‘wayward’ girls in various stages of pregnancy. They were all wearing the same clothes I was a drab, dark blue uniform with a blue and white apron buttoned in the back. They wore the same heavy, black lace-up shoes I was wearing. Their heads were hung low. Those who had long hair looked like they had strings upon their shoulders. They all had numbers sewn onto their uniforms just like I did.
I sat down next to Hannah. Soon a cart baring small bowls of porridge were served to us. That and an orange was to be our morning meal. I looked around as each girl sat with her hands folded and head bowed. Hannah poked me beneath the table to do the same.
Another girl named Serena stood up and read a passage from the Bible. After a brief prayer, mealtime was to begin.
Sister Bridget had warned me that no luxuries were given here, but I had at least expected full, nourishing meals. I felt like I was living a scene from Oliver Twist.
I picked up my spoon and took my first bite of porridge. A horrid, bitter taste filled my mouth. I’d never tasted anything this bad. It tasted like vinegar had been added to it. I looked around for a sugar bowl, but of course there was none.
“How do you eat this? It’s so bitter.” I whispered to Hannah. Talking was forbidden at mealtimes.
“Yes, there’s vinegar in it. Sister Bridget says it’s to remind us of the bitterness of our sins.”
“I can’t eat this.” I pushed my bowl away.
Hannah elbowed me in the side.
“You have to. If you don’t, they’ll force it down your throat. Squeeze your orange into it. That sweetens it a bit.”
“I hear talking! No talking!” Sister Margaret, a hateful old woman, walked by us.
I bent my head and squeezed my orange into the bowl. Stirring it around, I found that the sweetness of the orange made it more palatable.
As I finished the last mouthful of that hideous muck, I spotted the long table behind the partition where the sisters ate their meals.
The long table was covered with bowls of freshly toasted bread, plates of sausages and black pudding, bowls of beans, and eggs. A traditional English breakfast.
I shook my head. What a bunch of hypocrites!
The rest of the day didn’t improve. After a few hours of lessons, we were assigned our chores for the week. I was sent to work on the floors in the unused portion of the building. We had three floors to mop while kneeling on the hard floor with a scrub brush. It was backbreaking work to say the least especially while pregnant.
Once a week, we had church services with a sermon delivered by Father Patrick who was from Ireland.
“Young ladies, turn from your sinful ways! Those feelings you have stirring desires within you are straight from the devil himself. Don’t let him seduce you with his lies. Keep your legs together and your thoughts pure. Sex before marriage is a sin! An abomination in the eyes of the Lord. Don’t allow temptation to ruin you. Stay away from the opposite sex until you are married within a church by an ordained priest. Only then will your unions be blessed.”
I groaned inwardly. I think Father Patrick had learned that sermon from my own father. I fondled my crucifix necklace and thought of my mother. If she were still alive, would I be sitting here today? I decided no, I wouldn’t be. She wouldn’t have allowed my father to send me away like this.
“Veronica! Time for confession!” Hannah hissed in my ear.
Standing up, I made the sign of the cross as I moved from the pew over to the confessional line.
Hannah disappeared into the confessional booth before me. Several minutes passed. It was taking her an unusual amount of time.
Suddenly, the door to the confessional flew open. Hannah emerged clutching her blouse to her chest. She was visibly distraught as she raced out of the chapel.
After confession, it was time to retire to our rooms. Hannah was sitting on the bed crying.
“Hannah, what’s wrong?” I sat down beside her. After a few weeks, we’d grown close.
“Nothing.” She shook her head. She threw herself on her bed and covered her face with her pillow.
I stroked her back. She was due any day now. I was happy for her as it meant she’d be leaving soon, but I would be sad to see her go.
“I can’t stay here anymore, Veronica. I just can’t.” She sat up holding her pillow in her arms.
“It’s a nightmare, Hannah, I know. But how will you escape?” I had daydreamed about escaping this prison ever since I had arrived.
“I don’t know, Veronica. It’s…it’s Father Patrick…”
I narrowed my eyes trying to understand what had happened.
“What about him?”
“He does things…awful things. I can’t take it anymore, Veronica!”
A sickening realization dawned on me. What she was accusing Father Patrick of was repulsive. It frightened and disturbed me. What kind of place was this?
“Did you talk to one of the sisters?”
She shook her head.
“No, they wouldn’t believe me anyway. I just need to leave. I want to get out of here now!” She clutched her stomach.
“You’re due to give birth any day.”
She shook her head tears spilling down her face. She got up and sat over by the window.
“I’ll figure it out, Veronica.”
I worried about Hannah the rest of the day. As night fell, I heard her tossing and turning in bed. Finally, I drifted off to sleep.
A few moments later, I heard a scuffle on Hannah’s side of the room. The room was pitch black. I rolled over to look and see what was going on. Several sisters were in the room holding Hannah down.
“What’s going on?” I asked peering through the darkness.
“Veronica, go back to bed.”
“Is Hannah in labor?” I heard Hannah crying and pleading with the sisters not to take her baby.
“Go back to bed.” I recognized the stern voice of Sister Bridget.
“Veronica! Help me.” Hannah’s voice moaned.
One of the sisters accidentally switched on the lights. Hannah’s white nightgown was covered in blood. She was bent over with two of the sisters holding her up. Sister Bridget stood over her with the willow switch in hand.
“Hannah!” I cried out trying to get out of bed.
“Sit down, girl, unless you want to be in trouble.” Sister Bridget swung the switch menacingly.
“Veronica!” Hannah reached out for me with bloodied hands as they drug her out of the room.
I raced to follow her, but Sister Hazel Marie pushed me back.
“Stay here, child. This is not your concern.”
I fell back on the bed sobbing. Where were they taking her?
My blouse was soaked with tears. I hadn’t even realized I’d been sobbing that much until Ash brushed my cheeks.
“Ronnie, I have no words. That’s just unbelievably awful. What happened to your roommate?”
I blotted my eyes with his handkerchief. The winter sky was grey and snow was starting to come down harder. I searched his eyes looking for signs that he was disgusted or appalled by what I’d just said.
All I saw in his eyes was love.
I stood up and walked over to the window.
“They took her away. When I asked the sisters about it, they simply said she’d given birth and went home.”
Ash sighed taking a sip of his scotch.
“That was good, wasn’t it, Ronnie? Sounds like it was a nightmare there.”
I laughed sarcastically.
“Oh, that’s not the half of it, Ash. But I don’t think Hannah was okay. Two weeks after she’d been taken away one night, I overheard Hannah’s mother outside arguing with Sister Bridget. She was demanding to know where her daughter was.”
Ash furrowed his brow.
“So where was she?”
“I never found out. Sister Bridget claimed she’d given birth then ran away. Later, Sister Patricia was talking with Sister Bridget saying that Hannah had been a ‘real problem’ and she was glad that her father had taken her home.”
Ash swirled the liquor in his glass.
“That doesn’t make any sense, Ronnie. Were her parents divorced?”
“That’s what scared me, Ash. Hannah’s biological father was deceased. He died when she was a baby. Hannah’s mother had never remarried, so I was never sure who she was referring to as Hannah’s father.”
I choked up again. Ash rose from his chair to pull me into his arms.
“So how did you ever escape? Did your father come for you?”
I swallowed hard. I had never wanted to tell Ash how I came to leave St. Augustine’s and what happened to my baby, but if we were going to have a future together, he was going to have to know.
After Hannah left, I found the days nearly impossible to endure. Hannah had become like the sister I’d never had in the months we had roomed together. They never gave me another roommate, so the last two months I lived there were quite lonely. For months, I had watched the sisters beat and torture the other girls. I had managed to remain unscathed by the more sadistic punishments, but after Hannah was mysteriously removed from the school I knew more than ever I had to escape before I too met some unspeakable demise.
Since Hannah left, I’d been watching the gardener and his assistants who regularly came twice a week. The gardener was an older man, but his two assistants were young men around my own age. Finally, one beautiful autumn day Sister Cathleen sent me along with several other girls to hang laundry on the line.
As I bent over to pick up a sheet out of the basket, I noticed one of the young men staring at me. I glanced down and saw my blouse had opened up a bit to reveal my swelling breasts. Since becoming pregnant, I’d gone up two cup sizes so my breasts were huge. The clunky, ill-fitting bra the sisters had given me would no longer fit so I had taken to wrapping a bandage beneath my breasts to give them support.
He stood there watching me as I finished hanging the sheets. Sister Cathleen was preoccupied with scolding the other girls for some slight infraction, so I slipped around the corner of the building winking at the young man.
He was very good looking with light brown hair that spilled over one eye. He kept flipping his head back to keep the hair out of his eye. He was tall and well built. His brows flashed upward as I winked at him to follow me.
“Hi!” I smiled at him. He was even more handsome close up.
“Hi, what’s your name? I thought you girls weren’t supposed to talk to us.” He stared down at my breasts. His British accent was evident in his deep voice.
“I’m Veronica. No, I will get into terrible trouble if they catch me, but I couldn’t help but notice you.”
He laughed still eying my body with interest.
“I’m Graeme. So what did a pretty girl like you do to get sent here? I’ve heard it’s awful in there.”
I nodded.
“You don’t want to know how bad it is, Graeme.” I kept peering around the corner to ensure that Sister Cathleen was still preoccupied.
“Good to meet you, Veronica. You’re American, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I’m from New York. Have you ever been to America?”
He shook his head leaning against his rake.
“I’ve always wanted to. I’ve heard the girls there are beautiful.”
“There are pretty girls everywhere, Graeme.”
He shuffled his feet on the ground kicking some leaves.
“Not as pretty as you. How old are you, Veronica? I don’t want to get in even more trouble talking to an underage girl.”
That was an odd question, I thought. I folded my arms beneath my breasts.
“I just turned eighteen. What about you?”
He smiled broadly.
“I’m eighteen too. So why are you here, Veronica? My uncle tells me that this is a school for bad girls. Are you bad, Veronica?” He asked with a teasing grin.
I laughed. If he only knew…
“Not really, Graeme. My father sent me here.”
He looked around to see if anyone noticed us. His uncle was out of sight. Sister Cathleen was still screaming at the other poor girls.
“She’s a right strict one, aye?” He nodded in Sister Cathleen’s direction. His hair fell back over his eye.
I rolled my eyes.
“She’s not as bad as some of the other sisters.”
As we made small talk, a plan began to formulate in my mind. He kept staring at my body and I knew he had the keys to the gate. Perhaps if I flirted a bit more I could get him to sneak me out of here.
Subtly, I arched my back thrusting my tits against my blouse. A button popped open as his eyes widened.
“So, Veronica, do you think you could meet me sometime after you get out of here?” Graeme’s gaze remained focused on my swollen tits. The popped button revealed a lot more flesh to his hungry eyes.
“I don’t think so, Graeme. My father will be coming for me soon.”
He looked sad.
“So you will go home to America?”
I nodded. He seemed a bit slow on the pickup.
“So, if you want to see me, Graeme, it will have to be while I’m here. Maybe we could meet up later.”
His uncle gazed in his direction.
Graeme bent his head down and began raking the leaves quickly.
“My uncle’s looking over here. How can I meet you?”
“You have a key, don’t you?”
He nodded, still raking the leaves.
“If you come back after dark and get me out of here maybe we could do something together.” I emphasized ‘together’ stepping closer to him to press my breasts against his arm, I was ready to do anything to escape.
Graeme looked at me. His eyes burned with desire as he cupped my swollen breasts through my uniform. Due to the heavy uniform, my pregnancy wasn’t quite as visible.
He licked his lips as he squeezed my tits.
“Maybe. What’s in it for me?”
My eyes darted around. Any moment Sister Cathleen would be looking for me.
“I could—”
He grabbed my hand and placed it on his cock.
“—suck my cock?”
I nodded quickly. The thought sickened me, but I would do anything to leave this hellhole.
“When?”
“Tonight after lights out. You have the key to unlock this gate. Be here at 10 PM. I will sneak down here. I suck you off then you let me go. No one will know.”
Graeme scratched the back of his neck.
“I don’t know. If the nuns catch us and my uncle finds out, he’ll be really mad at me. He might fire me.”
Quickly, I unbuttoned my top and flashed him my tits.
“Wow.” His eyes bulged.
I nodded.
“Whatever you want. Come on, no one will know. I just need your help please.”
Graeme tentatively reached up to squeeze my tits together. He felt the full weight of them in his hands. His thumbs flicked my hardening nipples back and forth.
“Your tits are huge! Yeah, sure, I’ll be here. But I want more than a blowjob.”
Biting my lip, I quickly buttoned my top. Any minute now Sister Cathleen could appear around the corner.
“What?” I whispered impatiently.
“Can I come on your tits?”
I waved my hand. That was all?
“Sure. Please, please just be here at ten!”
I raced off around the corner casting one final glance at the handsome gardener. He was still gazing after me his cock rock hard poking through his pants.
Later, that night, I was poised at my window. It was nine-fifty and all was quiet. Slipping out of my room, I tiptoed down the long corridor. Suddenly, I heard a noise from Sister Bridget’s room. It was the sound of laughter from her TV. What a hypocrite, I thought. She denied all of us the ‘luxury’ of television stating how sinful it was, but she herself could watch all she wanted.
I walked quickly down the hall my long nightgown whipping at my bare legs. Just then, I caught a glimpse of another white nightgown. It was Serena, a British girl who was nearly eight months pregnant. She was sneaking food from the kitchen.
“Serena!” I whispered.
She spun around and nearly dropped the piece of roast chicken in her hand.
“Veronica! What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving, Serena! I’m getting out of here,” I whispered back.
“How?”
“The gardener’s assistant, Graeme is coming. Please don’t say anything.” I pleaded with her.
Serena stood looking at me. I could tell she was weighing her options. She finished her chicken leg and tossed it into the trashcan.
Licking her fingers, she walked over to me. I bounced back and forth on my feet. I had to be outside the door by ten!
“What will you give me to keep quiet?”
“Huh?”
“I could scream right now and every nun in the place would be down here. Or I could quietly go back to my room. It’s up to you.”
I sighed.
“What do you want?”
“Your crucifix.”
My hand fluttered up to my neck. The beautiful antique gold cross had been my mother’s.
Anything but that.
“It was my mother’s. Please, Serena, anything but that.”
“Okay, Veronica, have it your way.” Serena opened her fat mouth to scream.
I clamped my hand over her mouth.
“Okay, Serena.” Reluctantly, I unclasped the necklace and dropped it into her hand.
Forgive me, Mother, but I was prepared to do anything to escape this horrid place.
Serena smiled and tiptoed back down the hall. I reached the front door and slipped out.
I raced around the front of the building to hide behind a set of shrubs near the front gate. It had to be past ten. I wondered if I’d missed him.
Suddenly, a flashlight shone in my face. I started to scream.
“Veronica! It’s Graeme.” I sighed with relief as his handsome face became visible. The night air was cold, but I wore my uniform beneath my nightgown. Graeme gestured to my clothing.
“Hurry up, Veronica. It’s cold out here.”
“Hurry up with what?”
“Show me your tits again.”
“We can’t do this out here. Don’t you have a car?”
Graeme shook his head.
“No, I took the bus.”
“How about in the gardener’s shed?”
Graeme thought a moment and nodded his head.
He took my hand and we raced to the back of the building. I was so hoping he would’ve had a car.
Quickly, Graeme unlocked the gardener’s shed. It was damp and cold inside. The odor of petrol was strong.
“Come on, I have to catch the eleven pm bus back. Show me your tits again, baby.” I whipped off my nightgown to reveal my uniform.
“More clothes?” He groaned.
“Just a second.” I unbuttoned my blouse. I hadn’t worn the clunky, ill-fitting white bra they’d given me so I could easily access what he wanted.
As soon as I opened my blouse, he grabbed my breasts squeezing them and tugging on my nipples.
He groaned as he continued massaging them. I merely closed my eyes hoping he would be finished soon. I didn’t particularly trust Serena. Graeme’s hands released my breasts reaching beneath my skirt. His fingers found their way into my panties probing inside me. I squirmed slightly as he stood up.
“You promised you would suck it.” He reached into his pants pulling out his erect cock.
I swallowed hard. I really didn’t want to do this. He was handsome, but I just wanted to get out of here.
Graeme grabbed the back of my head pulling it toward his cock. As I parted my lips, the door to the shed swung open.
A collective sharp intake of breath could be heard in the silence of the night. We both spun around toward the door.
“Veronica! You wicked, wicked girl!” It was the awful voice of Sister Bridget.
“See I told you!” Serena was standing there her arms folded beneath her swollen breasts.
“Young man, leave these premises immediately.”
Graeme quickly zipped up his pants and raced from the shed.
Sister Bridget nodded to the other nuns.
“Leave us.”
The other nuns began to walk back to the main building. Serena stood there a moment.
Before Sister Bridget could say another word, I walked over to Serena and slapped her hard across the face.
“You bitch.” I spat at her. Reaching up, I snatched my mother’s necklace from her stuffing it into my pocket.
“That will be enough, girl.” Sister Bridget nodded for Serena to leave. She glared at me as she rubbed her cheek.
Sister Bridget turned back to me.
“Dress yourself. Follow me.”
My eyes were filling with tears. I knew this was going to be bad. Following her back into the building, I thought about just making a run for it. But I was seven months pregnant and the school was surrounded by a tall iron fence.
“Inside my office. Now!” she ordered. Her face was bright red and a small vein in her temple bulged.
I huddled inside the office clutching my nightgown like a security blanket.
“Drop that gown. Pull up your skirt.” Slowly, I released the security of nightgown. I pulled my skirt up around my waist.
“Bend over and remove your underpants.”
Terrified and shaking, I did as she commanded. Tears coursed down my face.
“Please, Sister, I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Sorry? You’ve disgraced yourself and this institution! You’re nothing more than a common whore. You filthy, disgusting girl.” She spat her words at me so angrily she shook.
“Please, Sister, I just wanted to go home.”
“So you had to fornicate with a stranger? You sicken me! I suppose it will be up to me to act as God’s agent and serve you with the punishment you so richly deserve.”
With that, she removed a long willow switch from her behind her desk. It was long and thick.
I’d heard about the beatings with the switch from Hannah and the other girls. I’d seen Hannah’s bleeding, lacerated thighs.
“Please, Sister, I’ll do all my chores. I’ll do extra chores.” I began to plead. I don’t know if I could take a beating being so far along in my pregnancy.
“Shut up, girl,” she commanded, her lilting Irish voice echoing throughout the room.
I gripped the chair in front of me.
One…two…three…four…
She lashed the backs of my legs over and over. Sharp, stinging pain exploded throughout my body. I could feel liquid running down my legs. I didn’t know if it was blood or my water breaking. Sharp pains reverberated in my stomach. I let go of the chair and clutched my stomach.
“I can’t…I can’t take it. Please, Sister, think of the baby!”
“What? Don’t you dare use the excuse of being pregnant to avoid your punishment! Accusing me of trying to harm an innocent child. How dare you!”
After several more lashes, she relented with the switch. I collapsed to the floor in a pool of blood and fluid. There was fluid leaking from my vagina!
“Sister, please.” I held up my hand soaked in blood and fluid.
“You did this to yourself. Get up and clean up this mess!” Sweat was beaded on her brow dripping down to her neck.
Scrambling to my knees shaking with agonizing pain, I looked up at her. She stood over me with a long handled scrub brush in her hands.
The pain in my abdomen was so bad I knew that something was wrong with the baby. I placed my hand between my legs and it was covered in blood. I was now bleeding from my vagina as well.
“Sister, please, I think I’m miscarrying.” I reached my bloodied hand up to her.
She swatted my hand away.
“Get up now! Clean this mess up.”
I struggled to stand, but slipped in the blood and fell back to the floor. The pain in my abdomen was excruciating.
“I can’t, Sister.” I reached for her foot.
“Are you defying me, girl?”
“No, I need help. Please call the doctor,” I begged, clutching my stomach. I felt severely nauseated and about to pass out.
“One more time. Get up.”
“I can’t!” I screamed.
“What did you say, girl? How dare you speak to me that way!” She screamed wielding the brush over my head.
“Fuck you,” I mumbled. Still on the floor I rolled over on my side.
“What?” She peered down closer to me.
“FUCK YOU!” I screamed with all my might.
My reward for that outburst was a belting whack against the side of my head with the brush. Everything went black.
“My God, Ronnie, I had no idea.” Ash shook his head his mouth agape. His eyes reflected love, compassion, and understanding.
I collapsed in his arms tears blurring my eyes.
“What happened to the baby?” He stroked my head sympathetically.
“Oh, God, Ash.” I covered my face with my hands. He pulled me tightly into his arms trying to still my shaking body.
“Where’s the baby, Ronnie?” He whispered.
I shuddered the bitter memory still so vivid.
When I woke up, I was alone back in that horrible, tiny room. My head ached terribly. I reached up to touch the top of my head and felt a huge lump. My right arm was bandaged and I pulled the bandage aside to look beneath. There was a bright red pin prick that resembled an injection mark.
My stomach still ached terribly. Something felt different though. I peered down beneath the covers and was horrified to see the blood soaked sheets.
What the hell had happened?
I felt my stomach which was diminished. Oh God, had I miscarried?
I tried to stand up and wobbled slightly. Suddenly, the door swung open. There stood Sister Hazel Marie.
“Child, what are you doing out of bed? You need to lie down.” Sister Hazel Marie rushed to help me back to bed. She was one of the kinder nuns.
“What happened, Sister Hazel Marie?”
She looked distressed. Her eyes looked at me so kindly with tears in them.
“The baby is gone, child.”
“Where, Sister? Did I give birth early and you sent her to her new family?”
She shook her head.
“No, child. You lost the baby. I’m so sorry.” She crossed herself.
“Lost the baby? How?” My voice began to rise.
“When you ran off with that gardening fellow, you must’ve fallen down in the shed. Sister Bridget said that you began bleeding and she called the doctor, but it was too late.” She crossed herself again as she tucked the covers around my body.
“My baby’s dead?” I screamed.
“Please, child, don’t upset yourself. You’ve been through so much.”
“I demand to see Sister Bridget! She killed my baby!”
“Hush, now, child. Don’t say such things. Sister Bridget would never—”
I screamed pulling my hair.
“She fucking killed my baby! That bitch! She beat me…look at my head!” I parted my hair showing her the huge lump.
Sister Hazel Marie backed away.
“That was from the fall, child. Please just calm down. I’ll send for the doctor.”
“NO! I want to see Sister Bridget!” I threw the glass of water next to my bed against the wall.
Her face went white as the glass shattered. She turned and ran from my room.
I was seething with rage. Fucking murderer! She’d killed my baby! I screamed as loudly as I could. A doctor in a white coat arrived in my room. Several nuns walked in with him.
“Veronica, you need to relax. Your baby was stillborn. The trauma of the fall caused you to go into early labor. Sister Bridget called me because you were bleeding. I had to take the baby early and I’m sorry to say that the baby wasn’t breathing.”
“How? How is that possible? My tests all showed a healthy baby!”
He shook his head sadly.
“I know what your tests showed, but apparently the trauma of the fall was only part of it. You have a genetic abnormality in your uterus as well. The baby’s oxygen was cut off.”
I felt faint. What the hell had that bitch done to me?
“It was Sister Bridget. She beat me with a switch and hit me on the head with a brush.”
The doctor shook his head.
“Veronica, you were fornicating with that boy. That’s what caused you to fall in the shed. Sister Bridget was alerted by Serena. They saved your life. Now I’m very sorry you’ve lost your baby, but accusing Sister Bridget won’t help you.”
My mind was reeling. I hadn’t wanted to keep the baby, but I wanted to give birth to a healthy child. To think that something was wrong with me all this time….it was too much.
“I…I want to go home,” I whispered.
The doctor nodded.
“Yes, your father has been sent for. He should be arriving in a few days.”
Oh, thank God, I thought.
“Sister Bridget, she’s a fucking murderer! Look at the way she beat me, the cuts on my thighs…”
“The cuts on your legs? That’s from where you fell in the shed.” The nuns stood around the doctor nodding.
“No, doctor, they didn’t. Sister Bridget hit me with a willow switch!”
“I’m sorry, Veronica. You need to rest.” The doctor stood by me with a syringe in his hand.
“She’s a killer, doctor! Believe me!” I flailed my arms about struggling to get up.
The doctor nodded at the nuns to restrain me.
“Now sleep, Veronica. Sleep until your father arrives.” He slipped the syringe into my arm. I felt my eyes growing heavy and the room became fuzzy. I lay there as if eviscerated, torn and bleeding. Slowly, the hideous nightmare in which I’d been living began to fade. Sister Bridget’s horrible face became a distant memory….
“So you lost the baby?” Ash looked pale and shaken. He kept his arm around my shoulder as I continued to cry.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me years ago?”
“Because I thought you’d want to have children. I’ve been to a gynecologist since then and I have PCOS. That combined with the scar tissue from the injuries years ago has left me with a less than five percent chance I can ever have children.”
Ash turned to gaze out the window at the snow beginning to fall.
“Ronnie, I don’t know how I feel about children, but that would never stop me from being with you. What you went through is appalling to say the least. But what I’m concerned with is how your experiences mesh with our relationship.”
“What do you mean?”
“You submitted yourself to me and I am your dominant. But I’m worried that given your traumatic past, this type of relationship may be too much for you. Perhaps that’s why you didn’t tell me.”
I shook my head.
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think less of me for getting pregnant so young. As far as our relationship goes, I love it. It’s exactly those types of desires my father repressed in me and the nuns tried to beat out of me.”
“I’m so sorry that happened to you. You getting pregnant doesn’t make me think less of you, but it does make me think less of your father. I’m sorry to say this seeing how he’s just passed, but I never cared for him. I like him even less now. Did you ever tell him what happened?”
“I tried, but he refused to hear it. He believed the sisters not me. That’s why I haven’t set foot in a Catholic church since then. I just can’t. I’ve woken up screaming many times in the night since then.”
“Ronnie, that’s terrible. But you have me now and that was so long ago. If you wake up screaming, I’ll be right here with you.”
I kissed him gently on the mouth. I snuggled down with him to watch the snow fall. The nuns led me to believe that I was branded a fallen woman and no good man would ever want me. I never thought I’d actually find my Prince Charming after that terrible time in my life.
Some dreams do come true.