Irish Secrets Read Free

mentioned the donations: Fees, you mean, ' cept they weren't allowed to call them that, 'cause it was illegal to sell babies, but American couples paid hundreds, if not thousands, to adopt Irish babies.
    For the moment, however, it was more tactful to keep to the official line.
    "My grandfather made annual donations to the Sisters of Calvary for over fifty years until his death last year, and I believe this was because he and his wife adopted a baby from the mother and baby home in Ballykane in 1960."
    "We are extremely grateful for all donations, Miss Stewart. We receive no government funding and rely on clients' payments and on donations to continue our commitment to providing high quality medical care here."
    "I'm trying to find out more about the baby they adopted, Sister. That baby is my mother, and she knows nothing about her birth mother or the circumstances of her birth."
    The nun nodded. "I see. Well, I'm afraid it's often very difficult to trace the details of all the babies born in the home at Ballykane."
    "Surely the Sisters kept records of the mothers, and the adoptions, too?"
    "Unfortunately, we're talking about a time when there were only paper records. No computers then, of course. I regret to say many of those records have been lost over the years."
    "Aren't there any records from the Ballykane home?"
    "Oh yes, several hundred boxes. Sister Augusta, our archivist, is trying to index them. However, I'm sure you understand that we are only permitted to give out non-identifying information."
    "What does that mean?"
    "We can't divulge the original name or surname of an adopted child, or the names of his or her birth parents. Such details have to remain confidential."
    Kara frowned. "Why?"
    "The mothers have a right to privacy about their past lives, Miss Stewart."
    "What about the children? Don't they have the right to know about their birth parents?"
    "Under current legislation, no, not unless the mother consents, and the father, too, if he is named on the birth certificate."
    Kara blinked as she struggled to absorb this information. "I see." She thought for a couple of seconds. "Is there any way I can find out more about my mother's birth and adoption?"
    The nun wrote something on a notepad and handed it to her. "Here's the address for Sister Augusta."
    Kara looked down at the paper, and up again. "I wrote to this address about four months ago but didn't get any reply."
    Sister Mary Theresa gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry about that. We receive a lot of enquiries, and Sister Augusta does her best to deal with them all, but it can take her a long time to search through all the old records."
    When the nun stood, Kara realised the interview was over, despite the million and one questions she still wanted to ask. Recognising that this woman wasn't going to give her any answers, she stood too, and forced a smile. "Thank you for your time, Sister. I appreciate the information you've given me."
    "Good luck with your search," the nun said.
    As Kara trekked along the corridor toward the main door of the hospital, Josie's words came back to her: Don't be fobbed off . That was exactly what Sister Mary Theresa had been doing. Fobbing her off with vague excuses about missing records and confidentiality, so even if she wrote to Sister Augusta again, what were the chances of any reply?
    She pushed open the swing door, and stood for a few moments, gazing out across the grey-blue water of the bay. No nearer to finding anything about her mother's birth than when she first arrived in Ireland, she had no idea what to do next.
    With a discouraged sigh, she headed along the path between manicured lawns and neat flower beds already colourful with spring anemones. A quick check of her watch showed only one o'clock. She had plenty of time to find somewhere for lunch, and perhaps she'd do some shopping after all before she met Ryan in Eyre Square.
    She reached the wide gateway of the hospital grounds and turned to take a