Furlong’s First Encounter with the Convent Girl Seeking Help
Small Things Like TheseBill Furlong’s first encounter with the convent girl seeking help begins as an early delivery and becomes a moral test he initially fails. The scene places her plea against the work and confinement he witnesses inside the convent, then follows him as he drives away unable to leave what he saw behind. His refusal is not the end of their story: the memory of it accompanies his later recognition of the girl’s vulnerability and his eventual decision to act differently.
Setting and approach
Furlong arrives at the convent with a load before it is due. Finding no one at the front, he walks past the coal house and opens a heavy door at the gable end, expecting to reach the orchard. The fruit trees are laden with apples and pears, but a flock of geese drives him back. The detail turns an ordinary delivery into an awkward trespass: he has entered by an unobserved route, and the convent’s interior is not yet visible to him.
He continues to a small, lighted chapel, where more than a dozen young women and girls are on their hands and knees, polishing the floor in circles with rags and tins of lavender polish. Their clothing and appearance register the conditions of their work: they wear black socks and grey shifts; one has a stye, and another’s hair has been roughly cut. Their startled reaction to Furlong’s arrival makes the scene feel exposed rather than routine. He has come to ask after a nun, but the girls’ labor, not the delivery, becomes the encounter’s defining image.
The plea and refusal
One girl approaches him and asks for help. Speaking with a Dublin accent, she is earnest; her requests grow more urgent as she tries to find a way out. She asks him to take her as far as the river, or at least let her out at the gate. When Furlong says he cannot take her anywhere, he shows her his open, empty hands. The gesture makes his refusal visible: he has no practical excuse to offer beyond his claim that it is not his place to intervene.
The girl then asks him to take her home, promising to work for him until she drops. Furlong answers that he already has a wife and five girls at home. She counters that she has nobody and wants to drown herself. Her words disclose the immediate danger behind her request: this is not simply a bid to leave the convent but an appeal from someone who sees death as an option. Furlong nonetheless steps back. The encounter turns on that retreat, as her direct appeal meets his instinct to keep the institution’s crisis outside his own household.
What follows him away
After the girl speaks, Furlong follows the nun back to the front, where she checks the docket and the load, then pays him. He considers saying something about the girl, but the impulse falls away; he writes the receipt and leaves. The business of delivery resumes, yet his departure does not restore his composure. He misses his turn, drives too fast, and has to tell himself to settle and go more carefully.
As he tries to find his way, the remembered details accumulate into evidence he cannot easily dismiss. He recalls the girls polishing the floor and notices that a door from the orchard to the front has a padlock on its inside; the high wall between the convent and St Margaret’s School is topped with broken glass. He has also watched the nun lock the front door after coming out to pay. These observations do not explain every aspect of the convent, but they sharpen the contrast between the girl’s request to be let out and the physical barriers he has seen. The girl’s appeal has made those details newly difficult to treat as ordinary.
A refusal that persists
That night, Furlong considers whether to tell Eileen Furlong what he witnessed. When he does, she insists that the matter has nothing to do with them and points to the convent’s need for firewood and its reliability in paying its bills. Her response gives his hesitation a domestic and economic context: the convent is a customer, and intervening could disturb the familiar arrangement by which he earns a living. The scene does not establish that Furlong has already chosen to oppose that arrangement; it shows how readily concern for the girl is pressed back into the language of business and household responsibility.
The first encounter returns to Furlong when he later sees the girl again. On another visit, he learns that she has a fourteen-week-old baby who has been taken from her, and she asks him to ask about the child. At first he again considers simply going home. But when the young nun expects him to move on, he instead pauses beside the girl and asks what he can do for her. She looks toward the window, breathes, and begins to cry. The contrast with his first visit is concrete: then he stepped back and left; now he stays long enough to invite a request.
Significance in the story
Later, as Furlong walks beside the girl, he thinks about whether a person can pass through an entire life without being brave enough to oppose what is wrong and still call himself a Christian. That question gives the first encounter its continuing force. Her initial request has not supplied him with an easy answer or erased his earlier refusal; instead, it has made inaction part of what he must reckon with. His memory of turning away becomes inseparable from the later choice to accompany her.
The scene also gives the reader a measured progression from public rumor to direct encounter. Furlong has heard claims about unmarried girls being hidden away and children sent elsewhere, while acknowledging that town gossip is often unreliable. In the chapel, speculation gives way to the particular girl before him: her labor, her appeal, and her stated despair. The event’s significance lies in that shift from what can be dismissed as talk to a person asking for help, and in the consequences of whether Furlong answers.


