‘Knock the lights off,’ said Vin, turning to Edward.
They drove in darkness along the narrow road, parked and got out of the car. They heard a faint bark coming from the convent grounds.
Jerry rolled his eyes. ‘If I’m gone for any length, this is where he thinks I’ve gone.’ He took out a key, and opened the chapel gate. They walked through, and closed it behind them, staying close to the wall. As they moved towards the outbuildings, Rosco bounded around the side of one of them, and stood at the corner barking.
‘Look!’ said Vin. There was a bike lying on the grass, the spin of the back wheel slowing to a stop.
‘What’s that building?’ said Edward.
‘The laundry room,’ said Jerry. They jogged down towards it, Jerry shooing Rosco back around the corner. They heard the raised voice of a woman as they reached the door. Jerry mouthed ‘Consolata’ at the others.
They crept closer. They exchanged glances when they heard a man praying.
‘I confess to Almighty God and to you, my brothers and sisters—’
‘That’s him, the prick!’ said Vin, darting forward, yanking the door open.
Daniel Lynch was on his knees, his hands joined together in prayer. He looked up, wide-eyed, at Vin, then at Edward and Jerry, behind him.
Vin glared at Sister Consolata. ‘Is that what you think, you auld bitch? That he can pray it away?’
Sister Consolata stared at him, defiant, her back straight, her mouth in its tight line. Vin grabbed Daniel’s arm and pulled him to his feet. Then he grabbed him by the neck, and held up his fist to him.
‘Vin!’ said Jerry. ‘Vin! Take it easy, take it easy.’
Daniel, his eyes wide with panic, struggled against Vin’s grip. Edward moved in, grabbing his other arm, and they dragged him past Jerry out on to the grass. Jerry stood, frozen, in the doorway, his eyes wide.
Vin grabbed Daniel by the neck again, and punched him, splitting the skin over his eye, sending him down on his knees, blood pouring across his face. Vin staggered backwards.
‘Lads!’ said Jerry from the doorway. ‘Lads.’
Edward moved in then, pulling Daniel half off his knees, sending a powerful blow down on his jaw.
‘For the love of God,’ said Jerry, wincing, turning away, finding his gaze drawn to the floor of the laundry room where Sister Consolata was on her hands and knees reaching out for a small pair of bloodstained underpants. She froze, her hands on them, her eyes locked on Jerry’s. His mouth opened, but no words came out. Then his hand flew back to the door frame and he grabbed it as he turned, using it to throw himself outside, ploughing through the space between Vin and Edward to where Daniel lay, curled in a ball, sobbing.
‘You savage,’ said Jerry, kicking Daniel hard in the ribs, kicking him again. ‘Animal’s too good for you.’
He kept kicking until he was pulled away. And every time one of the men fell back, another stepped in to take his place until they had kicked and beaten the last breath out of Daniel Lynch.
They stood over him, sweating, heaving for breath, spattered with blood.
Sister Consolata stood at Daniel’s feet. Vin turned to her, running his hand over the top of his head, settling the thin loose strands of hair. ‘Do you think you’re God, Sister — is that it? Do you think your prayers can make men out of monsters? Do you think you can work miracles? Do you think you’re some kind of saint?’
Sister Consolata stared at him, her eyes flaring — a gleaming black in the void.
‘Telling me what a great fella Daniel Lynch is!’ said Vin. ‘How well he’d done since you brought him down here, how you could vouch for him and oh, sure, wouldn’t he be a great asset for my boat? And me having to drag him away Friday night from standing around the pier, seeing what little girl’s parents didn’t have a close enough eye on her. And you knew! You were warned, weren’t you?’ He pointed at Jerry. ‘Jerry found the letter you were sent. He found your letter, and he trying to gather up the history of the place and do it justice.’ He paused. ‘But you?’ he said. ‘Oh, no. Not a screed of justice in the world if it’s not yourself doling it out. Sure, why would you pay any notice to a letter when you’re God Almighty?’
He turned to Edward. He was staring, pale-faced, at Daniel’s lifeless body on the grass. Vin reached into his back pocket, and pulled out the envelope. He handed it to him. ‘Read this and it might make you feel better.’
Edward opened it and read.
Dr St John Burke
Finney Street
Cork City
PERSONAL
Sister Consolata
St James’ Industrial School for Boys
Pilgrim Point
Beara
Co. Cork.
7 June 1971
Dear Sister Consolata
I acknowledge receipt of your letter of fifth May, re Daniel L. and regret to inform you that the boy who presented to me last week bore no resemblance to the remorseful and maturing young man of whom you spoke so highly. Moreover, he gave me cause for grave concern.
It is my professional opinion that Daniel L. should be monitored at all times. If resources cannot provide for such strict supervision, at a minimum, you must ensure that he never be left unaccompanied in the presence of pre-adolescent girls.
Regards
Dr St John Burke
Consultant Psychiatrist
Regina — I speak now as St John, your brother. The above is the text of the letter I will be formally sending you as School Manager of St James’.
Since you were a child, you and I spent many nights arguing over the beliefs we held dear, and I watched, albeit with great pride, your youthful passion and devotion. But I have a decade on you, dear sister — a decade spent in a world far removed from the cosseted one in which I left you, and the cloistered one to which you committed so soon thereafter.
With this latest post, you have finally been confronted with what had once been the touchpaper of our fiery debates — the raw human manifestation of society’s ills: the abused, the insane, the discarded, the rejected, the criminal. But to live among them daily, to guard their dormitories by night, you are experiencing it at a brute intensity beyond any I have known.
I understand the efforts you have taken to rehabilitate Daniel, so it pains me greatly to say that there are some children who are beyond the help of both science and religion.
We are all passing through, Regina — on that we do agree. But I do wonder, does the very name Pilgrim Point contain in it a warning: I am for pilgrims. No one’s time here shall ever be lasting. Those who wish to settle here will only ever be unsettled.
May you be a pilgrim there.
With love,
Vin turned to Sister Consolata. ‘At least we can all benefit from your blind eye now.’
They fell into silence. It was broken by the sound of barking. They turned to see Murph running away from them, and Rosco scampering across the grass towards him and bounding into his arms.
Murph kept running and never looked back.
Acknowledgements
There’s a reason why I say the following two lines so often: Life is Beautiful and People are Gorgeous. Because it is, and they are. And I’m eternally grateful.