Read Online The Mammy by Brendan O'Carroll - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brendan O'Carroll
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light down her throat.
‘And again,’ he said.
‘Ahhhh.’
‘Good.’ He removed the stick and between his thumb and the palm of his hand, he snapped the stick in two and dropped it into the waste bin. He wrote a note in his book and patted her on the head.
‘Okay, my little escapee, you’re fine! Back to your class.“
Cathy hopped off the chair and made for the door. She placed her hand on the door handle and stopped. She turned, still holding the handle and said, ‘Doctor?’ He had his back to her, but turned, ‘Yes?’ With her left hand she brushed back her fringe and said, ‘Thanks!’ He smiled, ‘My pleasure ... and hey, nice knickers!’
Cathy giggled and left the room. She went to the cloakroom to dress. She had not been back to her classroom since the big break, as she and the other four girls had come straight to the doctor. As she dressed she reflected on how things had worked out so well and that life was indeed worth living! What she did not know was that after break, when Cathy’s cousin Ann did not see her return, she got scared. As soon as the class was seated Ann timidly raised her hand and when Sister Magdalen asked what was the matter, Ann tearfully confessed all. The cat was well and truly out of the bag! As Cathy entered the classroom she noticed a definite air of impending disaster. She did not, however, suspect that this had anything to do with her. She took her seat. Sister Magdalen said nothing to her, but carried on with the English lesson that was in progress.
All was normal for the time being, although Cathy noticed a few peculiar looks from classmates.
The bell rang through the corridors to end the day’s schooling, and Sister Magdalen issued her instructions: ‘Don’t forget questions sixty-five to seventy tonight, we’ll be doing them first thing in the morning. Oh, and Miss Browne, you stay after school, I wish to speak to you.’
The class stood and said the ‘Hail Mary’ aloud. Only the girl standing next to Cathy Browne heard the tremor in her voice. The classroom was soon empty and deathly quiet. Cathy sat alone at her desk. Sister Magdalen had, as usual, walked her girls down to the front door in single file and would return at any moment. Cathy heard the ’clack, clack’ of Sister Magdalen’s heels coming towards the room, and the fear tasted like a rusty nail in her mouth. The nun entered. She closed the door and walked to her desk. She did not look at Cathy. Instead she opened the top drawer of her desk. In this drawer was a Bible, a roll-book, used to mark the daily attendance of the each pupil - a dash for present and a circle for absent - a box of blackboard chalk and the ‘wrath of God’. The ‘wrath of God’ was a strip of leather one and a half inches wide, one half-inch thick and twelve inches long. Somebody, -somewhere had sat over a drawing board and designed this strip specifically for beating children. It served no other purpose. It was expensive to make and to buy. The nun did not take it out. Instead, she placed her hand on it in the drawer. She still did not look at Cathy. Her eyes were firmly on the ’wrath of God‘. She took a deep breath and as she exhaled, she said, ’Miss Browne, do I like lies?‘
‘No, Sister Magdalen.’ Cathy knew what the nun was holding.
‘And do I like liars?’ The nun still did not look up.
‘No, Sister Magdalen.’ A tear shot down Cathy’s cheek.
‘Come up here,’ the nun said as she whipped out the strap and slammed it on the desk. Cathy walked unsteadily to the front of the room. The nun was glaring at her now.
‘What do liars get?’ she asked in a low, husky voice.
Cathy bowed her head and mumbled.
‘Speak up, girl!’ the nun screamed.
Cathy jumped with fright. The tears were now streaming down her cheeks and dripping from her quivering chin. Her long fringe was damp and stuck to her cheeks.
‘The “wrath of God”,’ Cathy cried.
‘The “wrath of God”,’ the nun repeated,
‘And again,’ he said.
‘Ahhhh.’
‘Good.’ He removed the stick and between his thumb and the palm of his hand, he snapped the stick in two and dropped it into the waste bin. He wrote a note in his book and patted her on the head.
‘Okay, my little escapee, you’re fine! Back to your class.“
Cathy hopped off the chair and made for the door. She placed her hand on the door handle and stopped. She turned, still holding the handle and said, ‘Doctor?’ He had his back to her, but turned, ‘Yes?’ With her left hand she brushed back her fringe and said, ‘Thanks!’ He smiled, ‘My pleasure ... and hey, nice knickers!’
Cathy giggled and left the room. She went to the cloakroom to dress. She had not been back to her classroom since the big break, as she and the other four girls had come straight to the doctor. As she dressed she reflected on how things had worked out so well and that life was indeed worth living! What she did not know was that after break, when Cathy’s cousin Ann did not see her return, she got scared. As soon as the class was seated Ann timidly raised her hand and when Sister Magdalen asked what was the matter, Ann tearfully confessed all. The cat was well and truly out of the bag! As Cathy entered the classroom she noticed a definite air of impending disaster. She did not, however, suspect that this had anything to do with her. She took her seat. Sister Magdalen said nothing to her, but carried on with the English lesson that was in progress.
All was normal for the time being, although Cathy noticed a few peculiar looks from classmates.
The bell rang through the corridors to end the day’s schooling, and Sister Magdalen issued her instructions: ‘Don’t forget questions sixty-five to seventy tonight, we’ll be doing them first thing in the morning. Oh, and Miss Browne, you stay after school, I wish to speak to you.’
The class stood and said the ‘Hail Mary’ aloud. Only the girl standing next to Cathy Browne heard the tremor in her voice. The classroom was soon empty and deathly quiet. Cathy sat alone at her desk. Sister Magdalen had, as usual, walked her girls down to the front door in single file and would return at any moment. Cathy heard the ’clack, clack’ of Sister Magdalen’s heels coming towards the room, and the fear tasted like a rusty nail in her mouth. The nun entered. She closed the door and walked to her desk. She did not look at Cathy. Instead she opened the top drawer of her desk. In this drawer was a Bible, a roll-book, used to mark the daily attendance of the each pupil - a dash for present and a circle for absent - a box of blackboard chalk and the ‘wrath of God’. The ‘wrath of God’ was a strip of leather one and a half inches wide, one half-inch thick and twelve inches long. Somebody, -somewhere had sat over a drawing board and designed this strip specifically for beating children. It served no other purpose. It was expensive to make and to buy. The nun did not take it out. Instead, she placed her hand on it in the drawer. She still did not look at Cathy. Her eyes were firmly on the ’wrath of God‘. She took a deep breath and as she exhaled, she said, ’Miss Browne, do I like lies?‘
‘No, Sister Magdalen.’ Cathy knew what the nun was holding.
‘And do I like liars?’ The nun still did not look up.
‘No, Sister Magdalen.’ A tear shot down Cathy’s cheek.
‘Come up here,’ the nun said as she whipped out the strap and slammed it on the desk. Cathy walked unsteadily to the front of the room. The nun was glaring at her now.
‘What do liars get?’ she asked in a low, husky voice.
Cathy bowed her head and mumbled.
‘Speak up, girl!’ the nun screamed.
Cathy jumped with fright. The tears were now streaming down her cheeks and dripping from her quivering chin. Her long fringe was damp and stuck to her cheeks.
‘The “wrath of God”,’ Cathy cried.
‘The “wrath of God”,’ the nun repeated,
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