In A Dark Mirror

Thirteen

Through the curtains, blue and orange lights flashed, casting multicoloured changing shadows on the opposite wall. The eerie illumination woke Aifric. She looked around the room, but it seemed, she was the only one awake. As her gaze fell on Heather’s empty bed, she felt a string around her heart tighten painfully.

“How many more people have to die?” She asked herself.

Sitting up in bed, she reached for the blinds, and pulled them apart just enough to glance through. The source of the flashlights were an impressive force of garda-vehicles, and about a dozen gardaí where running around the estate.

Now she heard rustling inside the house. The doorbell rang. She couldn’t see the entrance from above, but she heard the heavy door open, and muffled voices from below. She rose from her bed, and tiptoed over to Mercedes’ bed to wake her. Aifric gently shook her.

“Mercedes, wake up!” She whispered.

The younger girl stirred in her sleep.

“Mmmh, just a little longer.” She murmured, trying to turn around.

But Aifric was unforgiving.

“Mercedes!” She repeated, now louder and grabbing the girls shoulder.

The girl finally opened her eyes.

“What?” She asked sleepily.

“Wake the others. The gardaí are here!”

Now Mercedes was awake. “What? Are they coming for …for us?”

“I think so.” Aifric replied.

While Mercedes climbed out of her bed, Aifric made her way to the door, but before she could sneak outside the door opened. Mother Agatha came in, followed by two gardaí and a man in civil clothes and a woman in a business suit. Agatha pointed at Aifric.

“This is Magdalena.” She stressed the name Magdalena as if to underline it’s rightfulness.

The man walked over to her, and Aifric took a step back.

“Um, Magdalena Lyons?” The man asked.

“Aifric.” Aifric corrected.

“I’m Constable Gardner. I would like to talk to you.” He looked over to Mother Agatha. “Privately.”

They led her out of the room and downstairs into the kitchen.

“Please, sit.” Gardener said, not unkindly.

Aifric sat down and now the woman in the business suit introduced herself.

“I’m Gale McKinnon. I’m with the youth welfare service. The police is here to ask you some questions about the letter you wrote to the newspaper.”

“Great.” Aifric thought. “They don’t believe me.”

But Constable Gardener made instantly clear, that he did.

“I have been talking to Mr. Hancock from the Guardian. He has provided us with some evidence and witnesses accounts. There is an investigation going on.”

“So you believe me?” Aifric asked cautiously.

“Yes. We do.” Gardener confirmed. “Still, I have some questions to ask you, about Heather Whelan.”

Aifric swallowed hard. “OK.”

Gardener sat opposite of her, while McKinnon took the seat beside her.

“Don’t worry. Nobody means you any harm,” she said.

Aifric didn’t know whether to trust this woman or not. The youth welfare service hadn’t been exactly helpful after all.

Gardener began questioning. “You have been here on the occasion of Heather Whelan’s death?”

“Yes.”

“When did you last see her?”

“The day before she died. She was very weak and in pain.”

“The death certificate said, she died of a broken appendix. Your report says something else.”

“She died from the beatings.” Aifric sighed. It was hard for her to talk about Heather, but she knew it had to be done.

“You are hardly a doctor, so how do you know that?”

Aifric fought down tears, and tried to clear the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “She was beaten, and the wounds on her back wouldn’t heal. Not this time.”

“How do you think she got these injuries?” Gardener asked.

“Agatha used a …” Aifric’s voice broke, and she couldn’t go on. “Sorry,” she managed to say under her sobs. “I’m sorry.”

Gardener got up, went to the kitchen cupboard, and got out a glasses he filled with water. Without a word, he placed it in front of Aifric, and sat down again.

McKinnon laid an arm on her shoulders.

“It’s alright, we can do this another time.” She said sympathetically.

Aifric shook her head, and shrugged off the social workers hand.

“No!” She said, her voice still quivering. “I have to do this.”

It took her a few moments to pull herself back together. She took a sip from the water, which soothed her sore throat, and seemed to loosen the lump a little.

“She used a whip on us, when we were especially, well, unmannered.”

Gardener nodded, and took some notes. “And did she use that whip on Heather, before she died?”

Aifric stared at him, unable to speak. So she just nodded.

“Did she use this method regularly?”

Again Aifric nodded.

“We were beaten almost every day. But the whip was only for serious offences.” She took a deep breath. “And she usually took that out on Heather.”

“How would that pass off then?”

Aifric began to shake. The memory of her ordeal made her head spin. Yet she went on.

“She would call you to her office. There you had to undress, you know, your blouse and bra, so your back was bare. She has a hook in the ceiling, where she hung a rope from. She tied your hands above your head and then …then…” Aifric broke down sobbing again.

McKinnon had become white as chalk during Aifric’s report, yet she tried to keep it together and comfort Aifric. Meanwhile Gardener was patiently waiting for Aifric, to calm down enough to go on. If he was shocked, his face did not show any of it.

It took a few minutes until Aifric could go on, but after a while Gardener continued asking questions.

“Has anyone else been subjected to this…this treatment?” He asked.

Aifric was confused. Had he not seen the photos? Maybe they didn’t believe her after all? She angrily wiped away tears with her sleeve.

“Yes,” she finally said.

Gardener was looking at her expectantly, but she didn’t respond.

“Have you been beaten?” Gardener’s voice was calm.

Without answering his question, she rose from her seat and turned to face away from them. Then she pulled up her pyjama top. Her heart was racing, and the blood shot up into her face, but she needed to make a point here. Gardener was now staring at her bare back. Bright red scars criss-crossed over her skin, hardly healed. McKinnon held a hand over her mouth, and even Gardener’s cool attitude fell, if only for a moment.

“Ah, alright.” He said, while Aifric pulled her top back down and returned to her seat.

He was clearly a bit shaken, although not as shaken as Aifric.

“The official report said that Heather died in the night of the 24th, before she could have been taken to a hospital.” He got back on the topic.

“Did you notice anything unusual that night?”

Aifric felt the anger rise in her.

“That’s bullshit!” She cried. “They brought Heather to the infirmary room that night, she’s been feverish the whole day! I told them to get an ambulance!”

“What happened next?” Gardener wanted to know. “Did they call an ambulance that night?”

“I don’t know. I never saw her again. The next morning they told us, Heather had died. They said, she was on the way to hospital, when it happened.”

Gardener looked satisfied. “That’s all for now. Thank you Aifric!”

“What will happen now?” Aifric asked. “What about the other girls?”

“We’ll take care of them. And of you.” McKinnon said.

Half an hour later Aifric was still sitting in the kitchen, but all the other girls where with her. They sat in dead silence. McKinnon had called in a couple more social workers, who had equipped the girls with blankets. She came in and sat next to Aifric.

“Can I do something for you?” She asked sympathetically.

“Little late for that, ain’t it?” Aifric shot back at her.

Ever since the interview she felt the strong urge to pummel someone.

“I assure you, that we do everything in our power to help you!” McKinnon seemed to feel the need to defend herself, but Aifric was not in the mood for forgiveness.

“Where have you been then, the past 8 months? Where have you been for the past 20 years? You wanna do something for me? Go back in time, and get me my life back! Go back and give the life back to all those girls who ever had to be here! Or, if you can’t, just sod off!”

McKinnon tried to be professional.

“I’m afraid, that’s something that’s beyond my powers.” She confessed.

Aifric sighed. There was no use of taking it out on this woman. She obviously didn’t know what had been going on behind these walls, and Aifric couldn’t decide whether she had been lied to, or was plain stupid, or maybe both. Looking around the room, Aifric decided it would do no good starting a fight now, so she gave in for now.

“Maybe you can get us some cocoa then? They need something to warm up.” She gestured towards the other girls.

McKinnon relaxed. “I think that can be arranged” she agreed. She got up and walked over to one of her aides instructing him get cocoa for the children. He stared at her blankly.

“There nothing here. Where should I get chocolate at half past five in the morning?” He asked.

“What do I care, just get it.” McKinnon snarled at him, and the man literally fled the room.

About ten minutes later he was back and all the girls in the room were handed a Styrofoam cup.

“Be careful,” the man said “It’s really hot!”

By the looks of the cups, he got them from a nearby petrol station. Aifric carefully took a sip. The liquid was indeed way too hot and overly sweetened. Yet, to Aifric it seemed to be the best taste ever. She wondered how long it had been, when she got cocoa. Must have been some day in hospital. The sweetness of the chocolate made her feel better immediately.

Outside, she could hear Gardeners voice, then, coming from her office, Agatha’s voice. Curiously, she got up and walked over into the hall. Gardener stood near the door, and looked rather content. She walked over to him.

“What’s going on?”

“Just got arrest warrants for the sisterhood here” he explained.

Led by to gardaí each, Sister Immaculata, Sister Claire and Mother Agatha were brought through the hall. Sister Claire looked so desperate, Aifric almost felt pity for her.

“Please,” she cried at Aifric. “Tell them, it wasn’t my fault! I didn’t do anything to you, did I? Haven’t I been good to you all this time?”

“But you knew.” Aifric whispered. “You knew and you didn’t help us.”

Sister Claire began crying as the gardaí took her away. Immaculata didn’t even look at Aifric. Mother Agatha however, was furious. A few days ago, Aifric would have been afraid of that rage, but now her accusations were only pathetic.

“It’s your fault Magdalena, you destroyed everything! You’re as foul as she was!” Agatha hissed.

Aifric stepped forward and blocked their way. The gardaí stopped.

“My name is Aifric!” Aifric screamed at her.

Agatha was not done yet. “You’re a disgrace in the face of God! You will burn in hell, you hear me, in hell!”

“Yeah?” Aifric retorted, hardly able to control her voice. “Since you most likely will go there first, you can tell the devil that Aifric is coming! And tell him she’s bloody pissed off!”

Gardener stepped up behind her, and laid a hand on her shoulder. The gardaí worked their way past her, and led Agatha towards the door.

“I hope they lock you up and throw away the key! I hope you rot in jail!” Aifric screamed after them.

Sobbing she collapsed into Gardener’s arm, who allowed her to cry for a while before handing her over to McKinnon, who brought her to the infirmary room.

“Try to get some sleep love,” She said, as she laid Aifric on the bed, and carefully pulled the blanket over her.

Aifric laid still for a while waiting for her tears to dry. Her head was dizzy and she felt fatigued. From somewhere inside a dream, she thought the heard Heather laugh, and although she knew it was just a dream, she gave in and let her mind drift away.

{% fleurons %}}

Aifric was half asleep, when she heard Gardner come into the room. He stopped in the door frame, and Aifric pretended to be asleep.

“Brave little thing” he said to McKinnon.

“Yes, she is.” McKinnon answered thoughtfully. “Do you know her story?”

Gardener shook his head. “Only what happened here.”

“She had a loving family. Both parents and a little brother. They all died in a car accident. Except for her.” McKinnon sighed. “The reports say she had to watch them die.”

“What are you gonna do with her?” Gardener wanted to know.

“No idea, The council will decide that.”

“I would suggest supervised accommodation. I know she’s only 16, but she might need a little sense of control. And she is very capable of doing things on her own obviously.”

McKinnon just nodded. Finally, she turned around and silently closed the door behind her and Gardner, leaving Aifric on her own. Aifric stirred drifted away into sleep.

 Previous chapter

Next chapter