No One Wants You by Celine Roberts Page B

had to do the washing and the ironing were not of the same high status as the other nuns. The orphans were not even deemed suitable to wash the nuns’ clothes.
    But there was one job that the orphans were seen as suitable for. When the nuns’ habits were washed and dried they were sent down to the orphanage. We had to inspect the habits, for stains on the black cloth which had remained after the washing process. These were generally food and drink stains on the bodice of the garment. They obviously occurred during meal times when a nun might actually spill their soup or their food. The nuns were constantly celebrating a feast day and there was always a lot more washing.
    To remove these stains we had to constantly dab them with a cloth soaked with liquid ammonia, until they disappeared. We had to hold the cloths at arm’s length. The ammonia was the reason that we ‘orphans’ were allowed to touch the nuns’ habits. It was used undiluted, from a large Winchester bottle. It gave off very strong vapours if you inhaled them directly, they would take your breath away. The vapours were highly toxic, but we were never told about any safety procedures. Many young girls’ lungs were probably irreparably damaged by exposure to the ammonia fumes.
    One evening, after another girl and myself had finished removing stains from the habits, we folded them up and returned them to the nuns’ laundry area. When we got there, we left the habits with a young nun. She had just taken a delivery of fruit and was putting it away in a cupboard. As she became distracted by the now, stain-free habits, we were able to steal an apple each, when her back was turned. Both of us began the walk back to the orphanage, through a network of corridors, secretly eating our apples. We had only taken a few bites out of our apples, when we met the Deputy Mother Superior of the entire convent.
    ‘What are you girls eating?’ she snapped. ‘Where did you get those? Give me those apples at once, and follow me.’
    Before we could produce an answer, she snatched the apples from us and marched us into the office of the Mother Superior of the whole convent.
    ‘These girls stole apples from the pantry, Mother Superior,’ she said.
    We both opened our mouths to deny the theft.
    ‘Silence,’ yelled Mother Superior in our direction. ‘Take them away, and deal with them,’ she ordered her second-in-command.
    The sister caught each of us by the ear and led us out of the office. We tried to protest our innocence but were once again told to be quiet, by a stern command of, ‘Silence, you evil pair of thieves’.
    She took us to a marble staircase, between the ground and first floor. The staircase went halfway up between the floors to a wide landing and then turned. At the landing, on the wall, there was a large crucifix. She told us to kneel down in front of the crucifix and join our hands in prayer.
    ‘Both of you will remain here until the morning. You will not move, you will not speak to each other and you will pray to Our Blessed Lady for forgiveness.’
    We knelt down and dared not look at each other. We remained in that position for many hours. As kneeling on the solid marble began to feel like agony and my legs started to cramp, I just tried to ignore the pain. When all the lights were turned out, we realised that all the nuns had gone to bed. Only when this happened did we dare to speak to each other, in a barely audible whisper. Eventually we sat down under the crucifix. All night we debated the injustice of the harsh sentence, but every time we heard a sound, we jumped back into the kneeling position.
    Eventually morning arrived and the first nun appeared down the stairs, ‘What are you two girls doing here? Get back to the orphanage, at once.’
    We both looked at one another and before I could get moving, the nun pushed me. As I was not expecting it, I unbalanced and fell headlong down the marble steps. My face hit the steps with an almighty thud and