One of our first ever Aisling clients, Peter Doyle has died aged 81. He was in many ways a symbol of what Aisling is all about. He came to London when he was only 16, having escaped the brutal ‘care’ of religious orders in Ireland.

He had been sent by the St. John of God’s Brothers to work in the Great Bog of Allan footing turf, which is, as anyone who has ever done it will know, back breaking work. Most people would only have to do it for a few days to gather fuel for their own families to get them through the winter but Peter and others from St. Raphaels’s college in Kildare were expected to do this for months on end, for no pay.

After the first couple of weeks of working 12-hour days and sleeping packed together in cold cabins Peter went to the man in charge when he was handing out wages to the local men, who were at least getting some reward for their labour and asked for his money. Well, it must have been like in Oliver Twist when Oliver asked for more food. Wages? Wages?

Peter knew that he was in trouble and the only thing to do was escape. He had managed to save enough money for the bus to Dublin and luckily there was one due in the village and as he said later, ‘He flew over the Cuckoo’s nest’. He was in luck when he got to Dublin too because when he went for a job in a factory the owner gave him a fiver and told him to get the boat to England. He showed Peter a picture of him in the newspaper posted by the Brothers saying that he had escaped from their care and was dangerous.

In London he sought out the Irish Centre in Camden and began to work there making beds and sweeping floors. He desperately wanted to find his mother who had given him up under pressure from the local priest. Peter asked for leave to go back to Ireland to seek out his identity but was told by the Irish Centre that there would be no job for him to come back to if he did.

So began his 60 plus year residence in Arlington House in Camden Town. He eventually did find his mother who worked for a wealthy family in a small village in Wicklow, living in the gate lodge of the mansion house. She totally freaked out when she saw Peter at her door and hid him away terrified that local people would discover her guilty secret. His mother sent him away back to London telling him never to return.

Many years later he did return with Aisling but his mother had sadly died only a couple of months before. He did meet one of the neighbours though who remembered him from his first visit and she was happy to welcome Peter into her house whenever Aisling brought him back with us. She also helped Peter get in touch with cousins who were happy to be part of his life. It turned out that Mrs. Hayes had a similar run in with the priest and had given up her own child for adoption and years later was visited by her grown up daughter who had searched for her and they began a much more rewarding relationship together than had Peter and his poor mother.

As for the Brothers who hoped to reap the wages of Peter and his companions for their work in the bog, they were eventually disgraced when their exploitation and perversions of innocent children were exposed. Peter did get some money back in the form of compensation but there could be no pay back for the life they had robbed him of and the consequences he suffered thereafter.

Peter became a close member of the Aisling family through the many years after our first trip in 1994 and he was a valuable one too always willing to clean our minibuses and scrub floors and wash dishes. There was no exploitation here though: we couldn’t stop him! ‘One thing I learned with the Brothers was how to clean’ he often said. One day we were out driving in Kildare and we pulled the bus over next to St. Raphael’s College. Peter, Pat King and I went up to the grand old building and opened the massive doors and went in. Peter was mesmerized by the wooden flooring. Running his hands over the parquet he said, ‘I used to have to polish these floors every day. If I was too slow the Brothers would kick me up the arse. They would kick me up the arse anyway’.

A woman then came in wearing a nurses uniform and said to Peter. ‘Are you one of the old boys?’ She led us to another part of the building where we could hear music coming from an old record player. Old men in their 60’s were dancing with nurses, then the music stopped and everyone turned to look at us, Recognising Peter after 50 years, some of them said his name and Peter started saying their names, ‘Billy Power, Charlie McGrath…’. Billy Power said ’You left us at the Bog of Allan…’ Later as we were having tea the nurse in charge said, ‘I have checked your file. You weren’t supposed to have left us’. She had a towel and some pillowcases over her arm. We decided it was time to go and Peter Doyle flew over the Cuckoo’s nest once more