Shadows of the Workhouse

anyone. Would you answer it, please, Nurse Browne.”
    Chummy laid down her expert embroidery and left the room. We continued talking about the Christmas Fayre, speculating if the band from the SPY Club could be asked to provide some entertainment. Should they be paid and, if so, how much? “How about tea and cakes?” someone ventured. “Wouldn’t that be sufficient payment?”
    “What on earth has happened to Nurse Browne?” Sister Evangelina grunted. “She’s been gone at least five minutes. It doesn’t take that long to answer the door.”
    At that moment Chummy re-entered the room. She was bright red. She took a step forward and kicked a waste-paper basket, which shot into the air, spilling its contents as it flew. It hit Sister Evangelina on the side of the head, knocking her veil and wimple sideways. The shock caused her to prick her finger and blood spurted over the handkerchief she was hemming.
    “You clumsy fool,” she shouted. “Look what you have made me do.” She sucked her finger and waved the ruined handkerchief at Chummy.
    Sister Julienne took charge. “Never mind, Sister, use the handkerchief to bind the finger or we shall have blood all over the other work. Better to spoil one item than half a dozen? Now, Nurse Browne, what on earth is the matter?”
    Chummy opened her mouth and her lips moved but no sound came. She tried again with no success.
    The Sisters were seriously concerned. “My poor child, do sit down.”
    Chummy sat down and again tried to speak. Her vocal chords finally responded and the words came out in a rush. “Please, Sister, the policeman is at the door and he wants to see you.”
    Trixie gave a scream of laughter. “Didn’t I tell you! There, look, Chummy’s sweet on the policeman!”
    Cynthia kicked her hard.
    Sister Julienne looked troubled. “Oh dear, oh bother. I’ll go at once.”
    We all looked at one another. Sister Julienne would only use such an extreme expression as “oh bother” in an extreme situation.
    The knowledge that the policeman was at the door again gave me a nasty jolt. I had managed to lay aside the awful dilemma of the jewels found in Sister Monica Joan’s room. I looked anxiously at Cynthia, who was embroidering a cushion cover and who refused to look up. All the Sisters were silently bent over their work. Chummy took up her sewing again but her hands were shaking so much that she could not control the needle.
    Only Trixie spoke. “Well, now for it. They’ve come to take her away. There’ll be a right old rumpus.”
    Sister Evangelina turned on her. “Hold your tongue, you thoughtless, loud-mouthed girl. Just keep quiet for once.”
    “Sorry, I’m sure.” Trixie didn’t look at all sorry.
    I managed to catch Cynthia’s eye and we exchanged a look of alarm. Novice Ruth stifled a tear and worked furiously at the girdle she was making. Sister Bernadette was stuffing a golliwog, poking the stuffing down hard into the legs. The clock ticked and no one spoke except for the occasional “Pass the scissors, please”, or “Have you got the light-blue thread over there?”
    The soft footsteps of Sister Julienne were heard and we all looked up expectantly, but she passed the door and went upstairs. Glances of real anguish were exchanged between the Sisters.
    All the muscles around my chest and stomach seemed to tighten at once and I felt hot all over. “Could we open a window, do you think?” I enquired.
    “I was about to suggest the same thing,” said Sister Bernadette, and Cynthia, who was nearest to the window, stood up and opened it. The clock ticked on and we continued sewing. No one spoke.
    Again footsteps were heard – descending the stairs this time. We all looked up, each with the same thought in mind. What were they going to do with her?
    The door burst open and Sister Julienne stood there, her features filled with joy. “They are dropping all charges and taking no further action! Oh, the relief, I can’t tell you the relief. I have just been up to see Sister Monica Joan to convey the news, although I am not sure that she understood what I was saying because she just looked at me in complete silence.”
    “Praise the Lord,” said Sister Evangelina, sniffing hard. She blew her nose loudly into the blood-stained handkerchief and wiped the corner of her eye. “Let us praise the Lord for his mercy.”
    We were all overjoyed at the news, but Sister Evangelina displayed more emotion and relief than anyone else in the