Chapter Twenty Six

Report

Miss Olga Josephine Browney

by

Miss Geraldine Franks, Superintendent,

Catholic Refuge for Friendless Girls, Barclay Road, Fulham, London

Olga Browney was referred to the home by Miss Mary Norton, Matron, St Giles Hospital, Camberwell. Throughout the interview Miss Browney sat on the edge of her chair with her head bowed.

I told her that the first thing we had to do was to complete a registration form for her and she would have to tell me something about herself. As she answered my questions her voice trembled and her hands shook and when she mentioned her mother she started to cry. Miss Browney has made it clear she does not wish her mother, or any member of her family, to be informed about her situation. She says she does not want to hurt them.

We then moved on to the father of the child. At this point she refused to talk about him and no amount of encouragement on my part would make her. I decided not to press the matter.

I then asked her what plans she had for supporting the baby once it was born. When I explained that she could put the baby up for adoption, for the first time in the interview Miss B raised her head and said she would keep the baby. As gently as I could I explained to her that she may have no choice in the matter especially since she was not prepared to take the baby home to her family in Jamaica. I asked Miss B, how, if she kept the baby and stayed in England, she planned to manage, support and care for herself and the child. Miss B said she would find a job and work.

It is quite obvious that Miss B feels she has brought shame on her family by her predicament, but I am concerned about her decision not to return home and have tried to persuade her to change her mind.

I am at a loss to understand why the fear of confronting her family with an illegitimate child is greater than choosing to remain in a country at war, without the support of friends or family and treats unmarried mothers with contempt, not to mention the problem that her colour may bring.

Fortunately, there is time to persuade Miss B to place the child for adoption.

Geraldine Franks

Superintendent

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Dear Diary

I never knew places like this existed. Matron said I was lucky to be here because this is a Catholic refuge and other girls in my state end up in the workhouse which she says, are very unpleasant places and the treatment of the women in them is often cruel and harsh.

“Here”, she said, “they will treat you well and take care of you until you have your baby”.

My room is cold and bare with an iron bed, a table, a chest of drawers, a large white enamel jug and bowl. On the wall is a big crucifix of Jesus on the cross. I like the cross being there. It makes me feel I’m not so alone.

There are eight other women here, all waiting to have their babies. I spend my days cleaning the refuge or peeling vegetables in the kitchen. When I’m not working I stay in my room and say my rosary. We are forbidden to speak to each other during the day but can talk for one hour in the evening after prayers. But I don’t want to talk to anyone. I feel ashamed. I keep myself to myself.

Why do I dream of the things I can’t have.

Last night it was Cissie’s wedding. I saw everything so clearly.

Father Baker performed her wedding ceremony at the Holy Trinity Cathedral and there were flowers everywhere. Cissie walked down the aisle on Sydney’s arm to the music of the wedding hymn, looking beautiful in a simple white silk dress with a long tulle veil and a spray of orange blossom in her hair. The tots and I were the bridesmaids and we wore pale blue dresses with broad hats trimmed with blue lace and chiffon. Over sixty people attended the service, as well as Dyke’s family and friends and including three of Cissie and Dyke’s children.

After the ceremony everyone went back to Mission House. In the back garden Mammie had arranged for a large booth made of bamboo and coconut leaves to be built and decorated with lignum vitae and pink bougainvillea. This was where all the wedding presents were put before they were unwrapped. There was a table in the garden covered with a white linen table cloth and on it stood the wedding cake with a net over it and pinned in several places.

After the bride, the wedding cake was the centre of interest and the guests had to bid money to uncover the cake. They would try and outbid each other and by the time the cake was uncovered Cissie and Dyke would have several pounds, as well as lots of lovely presents.

It was such a happy, noisy day with so much laughter. I thought about Michael Sales and the pretty earrings he’d given me at my leaving party in Kingston and how he said he’d wait for my return so I could be his girlfriend. Not now Michael, you wont want me to be your girl friend now.

******