Till the Sun Shines Through

‘Well, that’s it, love,’ Mary said. ‘There are few places. There are these bloody awful homes run by the nuns where you can hide away till the baby’s born and they take it from you and give it up for adoption. From what I heard from a girl who went in one of them, it was like a prison camp. They made them work hard, even while they were in labour, and were constantly reminding them of the sin they had committed and urging them to get on their knees and beg forgiveness.’

‘Oh God,’ Bridie said. ‘Is that what I must do to save my immortal soul?’

‘Bridie, love, it’s just deciding what’s best,’ Mary said. ‘Now, if you don’t like the idea of abortion, then the home might be the only alternative.’

‘It’s not just that I don’t like the idea of abortion,’ Bridie said. ‘I’m scared, and if I was to die, Mary, I’d go to Hell.’

Mary knew that too: the Church’s teaching ingrained into them both was clear. Abortion was murder and the murder of an innocent child … God! It was a desperate thought altogether. Both women were silent for quite a while, each busy with their own thoughts while the fire settled in the grate and the gas lamps hissed. Eventually, Bridie asked, ‘Does Eddie know?’

‘Yes, Bridie,’ Mary said. ‘Or at least he knows what I suspected from your letter.’

‘Aunt Ellen?’

Mary shook her head. ‘If she knew the half of this, she’d take the first boat home and punch Francis on the jaw,’ she said angrily. ‘And while we might all want to do that, it wouldn’t help at all.’

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