The Sisters of St. Croix by Diney Costeloe

of the pram possessively, murmured, “Hannah.”
    “Well let’s go inside and find a doctor for Catherine, some milk for Hannah and perhaps some bread and cheese for you?” She ended on an interrogative note and David nodded again.
    “Come along then.” Mother Marie-Pierre led the way to the front door where Sister Celestine was waiting, peering anxiously round the doorpost. Mother Marie-Pierre despatched her to the infirmary to fetch the doctor, telling her, on her way, to ask Sister Danielle to come immediately.
    Sister Danielle arrived almost at once and Sister Henriette handed Hannah into her care with some relief. Hannah was very hungry and was making her displeasure at the fact very clear.
    “Give her some milk and get her clean and dry, please, Sister, while Sister Henriette finds David something to eat. Then we’ll see what else needs to be done. Ask Sister Marie-Joseph to come to me as well, please.” Mother Marie-Pierre turned back to the little boy, still clinging onto the handle of the pram. She spoke gently. “When the doctor comes we’ll get Catherine into bed and make her comfortable. Will you go with Henriette to the kitchen?”
    David shook his head. It was clear he did not want to leave Catherine. “Papa said look after the girls,” he whispered.
    “Was your papa with you?” asked Mother Marie-Pierre.
    The boy shook his head again. “Just Maman…” His face crumpled and Sister Henriette dropped onto her knees beside him and putting her arms round him, gathered him against her.
    For a long while he leaned against her, his sobs muffled in her habit. Sister Henriette looked over his head at Reverend Mother, who nodded briskly and gently lifted the little girl from the pram, carrying her indoors to find the doctor.
    At last David’s tears began to lessen and he pulled himself free of the nun’s arms. “Maman is dead,” he said on a sob. “The planes came and shot her. She’s in the ditch. We had to leave her in the ditch. I couldn’t carry her.” He added pitifully, “She’ll get cold.”
    “I know, I know,” soothed Sister Henriette. “We’ll find her for you. We won’t leave her in the ditch, I promise you. You’ve been so brave, David. We’ll help you now. You did what Papa told you to. You’ve been very strong. He’ll be proud of you.”
    Tentatively Sister Henriette reached for the boy’s hand and when he didn’t draw away, she went to lead him up the steps, saying as he looked back anxiously at the pram, “Don’t worry about your things, they will be quite safe here, I promise you.” Still he dragged his feet, so she said brightly, “Tell you what, David, let’s go in through the kitchen door and you can leave the pram safely in the yard.”
    Together they pushed the pram round the building and on reaching the courtyard, Sister Henriette helped him put it into the small shed there before leading him indoors.
    Sister Marie-Joseph joined them in the kitchen as David was tucking into bread and cheese and a glass of milk, clearly very hungry.
    “Mother wants you in the recreation room,” she said to Sister Henriette. “I’m to take David over to the infirmary to see his sisters and to have him checked over by Dr Felix.” She smiled down at the boy sitting at the table. “If you come with me, David, you can see your sisters. Catherine is awake now. She had a bump on the head, but the doctor says she’ll be fine very soon.”
    She held out her hand, and David slid off the stool and took it. He found her less intimidating because, although she wore peculiar clothes too, her hat wasn’t as big as the other ladies’ and she didn’t peer at him from underneath it.
    When Sister Henriette reached the recreation room she found many of the sisters assembled there. At Reverend Mother’s request she quickly put them in the picture.
    “All that gunfire we heard earlier and the planes; that was the Germans firing on a group of refugees,” she told them. “Aeroplanes