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Lion Hudson - Eleanor Stewart

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129 pages

English

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Description

The sequel to the popular Kicking the Habit! When Eleanor Stewart abandoned her vows and her life as a nun, she found herself in the middle of the swinging Sixties - and soon joined in. Boyfriends, parties, and mini-skirts took the place of silence and restraint, as she pursued her career as a midwife and the men she met with equal commitment. Troubled by her relationship with her mother, and what she saw as a growing estrangement from her faith, she finally falls in love and settles down - only to discover her past catching up with her, as she faces infertility. But with her husband at her side, they battle to adopt two children. Will the dream of a happy family, that drove her out of the convent, finally come true?

Sujets

Lettres et linguistique

Inglaterra

England

Informations

Publié par	Lion Hudson
Date de parution	20 mars 2015
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9780745956695
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0450€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

New Habits
A unique and courageous story of a fabulous and feisty woman moving from the constraints of a convent to the hedonism of the sixties. A tale of feminism, motherhood and courage.
Emma Freud OBE , broadcaster and social commentator
From a secluded world of abstinence and spiritual searching, Eleanor walked out into challenge, disappointment, health problems, relationship ups and downs - in fact, a life familiar to most of us! Her practical, sometimes faltering response, along with a healthy dose of humility and humour, contributes to this heartwarming tale of love, resilience and hope for us all.
Pam Rhodes , writer and broadcaster
New Habits
ELEANOR STEWART
For John, Esme and Paul
Text copyright 2015 Eleanor Stewart This edition copyright 2015 Lion Hudson
The right of Eleanor Stewart to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Lion Books an imprint of Lion Hudson plc Wilkinson House, Jordan Hill Road, Oxford OX2 8DR, England www.lionhudson.com/lion
ISBN 978 0 7459 5668 8 e-ISBN 978 0 7459 5669 5
First edition 2015
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Cover images: Eleanor Stewart
Contents

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

PROLOGUE

PART 1: ADAPTATION: CHICHESTER 1969-70

1 HOMECOMING

2 PROBLEMS

3 EMPLOYMENT

4 A FINE BUT BRIEF ROMANCE

5 DI AND DEE, AND A REVELATION

6 TALES FROM THE UNIT

7 A SERIOUSLY FOOLISH AFFAIR

8 PENZANCE AND THE LURE OF CRAYFISH

PART 2: CATALOGUE OF ERRORS: POOLE 1970-71

9 INTERLUDE

10 ROSES ROUND THE DOOR

11 MOULD, MILDEW AND OTHER ISSUES

12 LOST IN LILLIPUT

13 AFTERMATH

PART 3: A NEW BEGINNING: PORTSMOUTH 1971-76

14 A SISTER ONCE AGAIN

15 A FLAT, AND A CAT CALLED JEREMY

16 A BROTHER S RECOMMENDATION

17 NIGHTS - JULY 1972

18 A COURTSHIP

19 THE FAMILY

20 WEDDINGS

PART 4: MARRIAGE AND MOTHERHOOD: 1973-79

21 FURTHER ADAPTATION

22 HONEYMOON

23 DISASTER

24 MOVING HOUSE

25 THE INVESTIGATIVE PROCESS

26 ESME

27 CONFLICT

28 INTERMISSION

29 ABOUT THE BOY

30 THE CALM

31 THE STORM

EPILOGUE
Acknowledgments
To Di and Dee, who helped me remember so much. Thanks for all the giggly lunches. To my editor, Ali Hull, for her tireless help and encouragement, and to all the members of the Lion Hudson team, who are such a pleasure to work with.
Prologue

In September 1961, aged eighteen, I went to France to enter the Noviciate of the Sisters of Charity of Our Lady of Evron with the intention of becoming a nun and dedicating my life to God. After two and a half years I took my vows and a short time later returned to their main English convent, Mary-Mount in Liverpool. As a nun and encouraged by the Mother Superior, I became a student nurse, leaving my convent every day for Broadgreen, a big inner-city hospital, and returning each evening to my religious community. After qualifying as a registered nurse I trained for my midwifery diploma at the Liverpool Maternity Hospital. These were wonderfully happy years. I was contented and fulfilled. I enjoyed the community life and felt empowered by my vows. At all times I was surrounded by affectionate support from my sisters.
However, during my midwifery training I began to feel an immense desire to have a family of my own: a husband and children. I remained faithful to my vows, but became convinced that my life was turning in a different direction. In 1969, after eight years in a convent, I left the community. The sisters continued to be loving and supportive; I faced no antipathy, only sympathy.
The story of my life during those years is told in my book Kicking the Habit . What follows is my new life after the convent and my efforts to find my place in the modern world.
PART 1
Adaptation: Chichester 1969-70
C HAPTER 1
Homecoming

The girl sitting opposite me blew out her cheeks, raised her eyebrows, examined her fingernails and, rustling in her bag, produced her cigarettes. Taking one out, she lit it, inhaled deeply, then turning her head, presumably to avoid my face, blew a steady puff of blue smoke toward the window. When she turned back toward me, she was grinning. Tell me again. Eight years? You were in a convent for eight years? You ve got a lot of catching up to do.
Once the train pulled out of Liverpool s Lime Street station, she had begun to interrogate me with great persistence. Mother Henrietta s robust recommendations about finding a husband before I embarked on motherhood, which my travel companion had obviously overheard, had left me in a state of shock, but it had galvanized her curiosity and I faced a barrage of questions. She sat forward, crossing and re-crossing her legs, her shiny silky knees rubbing against each other. The sound was intimate and secret, as if her limbs were making quiet little murmurs of astonishment. My neat grey suit and pretty green blouse, chosen for me by Sister Mary, which I had thought smart, suddenly felt dowdy. My skirt was far longer than my companion s, which appeared to me extraordinarily brief. Every time she moved, it rode up a little more, revealing an expanse of plump brown thigh.
In an effort to turn the conversation away from what I felt would become prurient or more than inquisitive, I said, Your tights are a pretty colour.
American Tan; it s the new thing. She looked doubtfully at mine. Yours are a bit pale, if you don t mind me saying so. She obviously felt that this unasked-for sartorial opinion would be acceptable to me, given my status as an ex-nun. For the next half an hour I was subjected to a persistent inquisition about convent life in general, and my own role in particular.
It was irritating, but I suppose not unreasonable. It s not every day that one comes across an ex-nun and one whose ex-status is so new, so her curiosity was understandable.
Would you like a drink? She was on her feet before I could reply. There s a buffet car on the train.
Thank you. A cup of tea would be lovely. Can I give you some money?
No, no! Don t go away. I ve got lots more to ask. Outside in the corridor, she pushed cheerfully past standing passengers waiting for their stop. Excuse me. Excuse me her voice faded as she disappeared from view. If I strained my ears, I could still hear her chattering away in the distance and I could only imagine what she might be saying: You ll never guess - I m in a carriage with an ex-nun. She was obviously finding the whole thing an exotic experience.
She arrived back with tea in one hand and something else in the other.
That s not tea, I said.
No, she grinned at me. It s G and T.
G and T? It was so long since I had heard the abbreviation that I had forgotten it.
Gin and tonic. Gosh, you don t know much, do you? And there s not too much tonic in it either. So she crossed her legs again and her nyloned knees whispered like old ladies sniggering behind their hands, where were we?
As the details of convent life are, in the main, extraordinarily mundane I think my interrogator was beginning to feel some disappointment. It is difficult to explain to someone who has absolutely no knowledge of the religious life just what it involves: a community life, in all its simplicity, its order, its discipline, and the vows.
I ve seen The Nun s Story . Is it like that? I d often been asked this, and I guessed that she would pose the question too.
No, nothing like it really.
What about whipping yourself? Do you have to do that?
No, not in my community.
What do you mean, not in my community ? Do some nuns do it?
Yes, some do, but it s not a big issue. It s mainly symbolic. Almost nobody asked about obedience or poverty, but all were fascinated about the absence of men, and by men they meant sex. It seemed to most people that the lack of sex was a major stumbling block and one that they imagined (erroneously) would be the hardest aspect of a nun s life.
By the time my tormentor left the train at Birmingham, I felt exhausted and was only too thankful to sink back in my seat and hope to be left in peace. Nobody came to disturb me, but the curious glances from passengers passing my carriage convinced me that my erstwhile companion had indeed spread the word. I decided there and then that I would keep very quiet about my past and recent life, unimpeachable as it was.
It was about 6:30 p.m. when I got to Euston, and by the time I had crossed London to catch the Portsmouth connection at Waterloo, I found I had missed it. I was concerned that my mother, in those pre-mobile phone days - and who didn t have a landline in her flat anyway - would be worried. As there was nothing I could do, I bought a sandwich and then went into a bar and daringly ordered a G and T. There were only a couple of other people inside, so the barman served me quickly. I looked dubiously at the small amount of gin in the glass and asked, Is that all I get? Can I have a little more?
You want a large one? You should have said.
He returned my glass to the optic and gave it another shot. I took my drink and poured in some tonic. I nearly choked as the spirit struck the back of my throat. I managed not to cough, but when I looked up, the barman was grinning at me. I guess it s not your tipple.
I turned my head away with embarrassment, but when I looked back he was still smiling and said in a friendly sort of way, Why don t you have something else? He took the glass and bottle of tonic from me. Go on, what do want?
Memories of the feast-day Babycham at Mary-Mount made me smile, but I decided against asking for one of those. I ll have a Scotch; a Scotch and soda. It seemed to define my new life