Boston Blood

six

Frances's hand shook as the two girls stood in the large courtyard. She took the cigarette from Sinead and lighted it. She was shivering but it had nothing to do with the damp weather. She let herself slump against the side of the laundry building and tried to concentrate on keeping it together. Sinead sighed as she took a large drag of her smoke. Frances inwardly screamed at herself. She couldn't believe she let this happen. If only she could have done something. She felt useless and dangerously angry.
Sinead's grunted as she looked over her shoulder, making sure the coast was clear now. One of the older nuns, Sister Kate, had just hobbled out of the school building about fifty feet away. The two girls froze for a moment as they spotted the ancient woman, but thankfully she didn't see them.
"That fucking bitch. I knew she was up to something but I had no idea that it was Michael . I bet ya he wasn't adopted, I bet ya she sold him to the highest bidder. God, I wish I never took this fuckin' job. It's like working for criminals." Sinead's tone was sharp and cutting. Frances nearly choked on her cigarette smoke as she whipped her head up to glare at Sinead. "What?" she whispered in complete shock. 
"Yeah! did you not know? Yeah the church has a long history of selling kids that come into their care. Sister Delores has had me record it over the last year as; "generous donations" so it doesn't look suspicious... but she's selling the poor kids. No thought about who or where these people are, just how much they're willing to pay." 
Frances couldn't comprehend what Sinead was saying. Michael was sold? To who? Where? She thought she was going to get sick, again, but she focused on controlling her breath as the knot in her stomach was now causing her physical pain.
Sinead was lost in her thoughts but physically recoiled when she realised what she had just said. "Oh, Frankie I'm sorry. I didn't-" Frances held her hand up to stop Sinead. She didn't want to hear anymore. Her time at this place had been awful. She actually never thought she would prefer her father to these people. She had hated every second, here. The nuns were horrible, evil bitches who relished in torturing kids, whether that consisted of physical abuse if you were cheeky or psychological abuse by making a fool of you if you got something wrong in Maths or History. Frances despised this place and had hoped it couldn't get any worse. But not that Michael was gone? She really had to wrestle with the dark thoughts forming in her mind, now. She had no one and Michael was now living with strangers who could be just as evil as the nuns. 
Frances breathing was becoming quicker now and her mind was reeling. She had to find him. He needed her. He was too sweet and innocent. He needed his big sister to protect him, he's all she had. It's my fault he's here. First my ma, now Michael. Sister Delores was right; I am a waste of fucking space.
"Sinead?" Frances asked, fighting back the angry tears which burned her eyes.
"Yeah?"
"Can you actually help me find Michael or were you just saying that?" Frances didn't mean for her tone to sound as harsh as they came out but she was furious. 
Sinead stood there, biting her lower lip and avoiding France's wild green eyes. Frances could see that Sinead regretted ever mentioning it.
"Sinead?" Frances snapped, unable to hide her anger, then. 
Sinead "She keeps a folder in her office of all the "adoptions." It's always locked away in her desk drawer. I could try to get a look at it the next time I'm in there? Maybe it'll have a name or address of the family who have him?" Frances' heart sank as she saw the doubt on Sinead's face. She knew there was no way Sinead would be able to get into Sister Delores' desk drawer. She carried the key around her neck. Frances knew this because she had seen it swing from the nun's neck on one of the many occasions Frances was at the receiving end of one of her beatings in her office. 
"For fuck's sake! You know she sleeps with that fucking key! It's hopeless! I'm never going to find him." Frances roared and before she could stop herself she punched the concrete wall she was facing, causing her knuckles to split, painfully and bleed. 
"Frances! stop!" Sinead grabbed Frances' shoulders and shook her, violently. "You have to keep it together. You can't let the nuns see you like this."
"But it's no use Sinead! I'll never get to see that folder! I'll never find Michael. It's my fucking fault we were both thrown into this hell hole in the first place. It's all my fucking fault! All of it!" Frances had lost her battle against the tears she was trying to fight. They were flowing down her cheeks now, hot and angry. 
Sinead's hands were holding Frances's face, now, wiping the tears away. She stared deep into Frances' weepy eyes for a long moment, before pulling away. 
"There might be another way get that key. But, fuck, Frances If she catches me-, if she found out about her-," Sinead whispered before trailing off. She had tears in her eyes now as she stared at Frances. There was a vulnerability there. It made Frances uncomfortable. Sinead leaned against the wall and ripped the tight bun from her hair. As she ran her fingers through her wild blonde curls, sighing, she looked nervous and frightened. 
Frances raised her eyebrows in confusion as she silently probed Sinead's panicked face. The young woman looked pained as she stomped out her cigarette. "I'm not the only secretary that works for Sister Delores. Joan comes in every Saturday morning to go through the books. She and I are-, close. She might help us. She hates the nuns just as much as we do. I don't know, though. I could try to ring her? Oh God help me." 
Frances waited in apprehension as Sinead mumbled to herself. Today was Thursday which meant she could possibly know where Michael was in two days. She stared at Sinead who now looked ill. She had only realised, just then what she was asking of Sinead. If they were caught Sinead would most certainly lose her job. Or worse, be arrested or beaten. She felt guilty in that moment. Sinead was the only person in this place that had ever shown her an ounce of kindness. If Frances had had a big sister, she hoped she would be like Sinead. 
But the need to find her brother and the silly hope that was bubbling within Frances overpowered the guilt she felt. If Sinead could help her, she had to tell her, no matter the consequences. 
"Sinead? I know this is dangerous and I know you have no reason to help me, but please. I'm begging you, please help me find my brother." Frances grabbed both of Sinead's hands and squeezed, tightly. She could feel them shaking. 
A shrill, deafening voice made both of the girls jump and Frances' blood drain from her face. It was Sister Kate, again. "What are you doing here? You! get back to work and you!" Sister Kate stabbed Frances' chest with her finger. "Aren't you supposed to be cleaning the toilets? Only job for a trouble maker like you." The nun smirked as she pulled Frances' arm and tried to lead her back towards the main building. 
"Sister, Frances was just getting some air. She had some bad news and I was making sure she was okay." Sinead interjected but was immediately silenced when the nuns' wrinkled hand connected with Sinead's face. The large gold ring that sat on the nun's baby finger tore a lump of flesh from her cheek, leaving her bleeding. "How dare you address me like that! You don't get paid to help these girls. You get paid to work in the office and do as you're told. Now, fix your hair this second. You look like a whore." The nun snarled before grabbing Frances's arm.
Sinead's brown eyes were wide as they pierced Frances's. She was quiet for a second before she finally nodded and whispered; "We'll get that fucking key."
Frances yanked free from Sister Kate's grip and wrapped her arms around Sinead's neck, pulling her into a bone crushing hug. She was just able to hear Sinead whisper "meet me here at 8 tomorrow night," before she was slapped and dragged away, violently.
***
Frances couldn't sleep that night. She kept replaying the night her father killed her mother over and over again. She had always felt like it was her fault her mother had died. If only she wasn't such a coward and went downstairs earlier. She could have stopped her father, somehow. She could have grabbed the gun and shot him first. He would be gone and they would be a family, now. Happy and free. She thought about what kind of life she would have. Could she ever move on and not feel so angry all of the time?
Her eyes stung as she hugged herself, digging her nails into upper arms. She thought about her young brother and wondered where he could be. She imagined all types of scenarios. If what Sinead said was true and the nuns didn't care about kind of environment that children they sold were going to be in, poor Michael could be worse off than her. Those people could be just as bad as the nuns. Frances shook those thoughts from her head as she tried to concentrate on how she was going to get the key. 
But what if the people that have Michael were nice? They obviously have money. Maybe Michael has actually been given a chance at a life he's always deserved. Maybe he'll be happy. 
The tears had returned and Frances sobbed into her pillow. She hated herself for being so emotional. She had tried to train herself to stop crying and to toughen up. She may have looked and acted like a complete bitch to the other girls here, maybe she was. But deep down, she was a frightened, angry young woman who was haunted by what her father did. She blamed herself. 
She had to find Michael. She had to feel useful, like she could do something right for once in her life. 

When she finally drifted off to sleep, Frances was tormented by terrible images. Her mother was lying on the kitchen floor, drenched in blood. Frances crawled over to her and just before she slipped away she released a gut-wrenching scream. "You did this, Frances. You could have saved me." Michael was crying in the corner as her father turned towards him, raising his gun and aiming. "No!" Frances had screamed but it was too late. His lifeless body was at her feet and she raised her head in horror, there stood Tommy Ryan and Sister Delores. They were both laughing, devilishly. 

"Frances Ryan!" A sharp sound made her stir and sit upright in her bed. She peeled open her eyes and wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead. It was still dark outside. She had no idea what time it was or why she was being woken up, but Sister Angela was yanking her out of bed, now and instructing her to get dressed. Some of the other girls were watching through half closed eyes as Frances slipped off her nightdress and stepped into her grey dress. 
The middle aged, skinny nun watched her like a hawk but said nothing. Frances knew better than to ask her why she was waking her up but she knew something wasn't right. 
When she was dressed Sister Angela pulled her by the elbow and led her out of the dormitory. Frances was scared but tried her best not to show it. 
They were headed towards to the main building. She was pushed through the huge iron door that lead to Sister Delores' office. As they entered the room, Frances heart stopped at the sight in front of her. Sinead was lying at the feet of Sister Delores and Sister Kate. She had been beaten and was bleeding from her face. She was barely conscious. 
No! Oh God, what have I done?