Almost as bad was trying to get out of the church at the end. Vaguely familiar people would approach us and tweak our cheeks.
‘It’s not wee Nancy and Bernadette?’
Nancy had perfected this haughty look into the distance, so they fixed on me and the way I looked back and asked me stupid questions about my school, my age and my life and when my da would be coming over and didn’t we miss him terribly. Sometimes I couldn’t understand them and Nancy would translate for me to stop them repeating themselves over and over. Tommy would be outside the church door, pulling out people to talk to, laughing with the priest.
Nearly free, we’d have our hands crushed by the priest at the door, and then visit Gran and Granddad’s grave, which they shared. I loved the drive back. It was all green fields, brown mud, small mountains and grey houses and no more church for a week. Most houses were the colour of the clouds, stippled with pebbledash against the wind and rain. Our farm was special, covered with a flat white plaster, with dark sea grey slates which glistened after every shower, signalling to the other roofs across the flat fields like dark beacons. I liked the heavy doors, thick walls and thin windows. Best of all I liked being welcomed home by Bruce, racing the car.
This Sunday when we got home the potatoes were ready to heat and the chicken smelled ready to carve, but there was already someone sitting at the table in the parlour.
‘Ryan!’ I said.
‘Hello, girls.’ He was shaved but his hair was much longer now, drifting over his blue eyes. ‘Long time no see.’
I saw his long green bag on the floor and thought how he’d missed my birthday. ‘Have you got me a present?’
He looked confused. I heard a gasp and turned. Mum had put her hand to her mouth. She looked down at us.
‘Go upstairs and wash your hands, girls.’
‘They’re clean,’ I said, and held them up for her. Church was supposed to be clean and we were clean when we went there in the first place.
‘Wash them again. You too, Florence.’ She closed the door behind us. We went upstairs slowly, trying to listen. Sister Agatha came in the front door, carrying the freshly picked peas in a basket made from her skirt. We waited on the landing while Florence stood on the toilet lid and let the water run over her hands.
‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph!’
I never understood it, but when Sister Agatha said things like that it didn’t count as blasphemy. If I’d said it, it would have. The door closed again, and then we heard Donn come in from the lobby.
‘Christ! What are you doing here? Get out!’
There was the noise of chairs scraping and something got knocked over.
Donn said, ‘You were told. He warned you what would happen.’
Then the voices went quieter.
‘Where’s he been?’ I asked.
‘How should I know?’ Nancy held her finger to her lips.
We hadn’t seen Uncle Ryan since he turned up in the middle of the night on Florence’s birthday. He hadn’t brought her a present either. Mum cried and Dad said he could stay, even though that made Mum cry more. He stayed that day, sleeping on the sofa for most of it, and then he left while we were at school the next. I asked where he’d gone and Mum said Timbuktu. I didn’t think that was a real place, but I looked it up and it is.
There was a splash in the bathroom. I went in and used a towel to wipe the floor, then shook it out and laid it back on the side of the bath. Florence sat with us on the landing, smiling at us, and keeping pretty quiet for her.
The parlour door opened and Sister Agatha called us down to the bottom of the stairs. She had three plates balanced in her hands.
‘Front room, girls.’ We sat on the sofa in a line and she handed us our plates. Her hair looked messy and her eyes were red. ‘This is a special day. You are going to eat in here and you’re allowed to watch the television. Just leave the plates on the table when you’ve finished and behave. I’ll be back to check on you soon.’
‘Can I get a drink?’ asked Nancy.
‘I’ll bring you a drink soon enough.’
‘Are we allowed to go outside?’
‘Nancy, listen,’ said Sister Agatha. ‘You all stay right here until you hear otherwise. I’m relying on you. Do as you’re told, please.’
When she left the room I looked at Nancy.
‘She said please.’
‘And television on a Sunday.’
We listened from our spots on the sofa but we didn’t even go to listen at the serving hatch. We picked at our chicken and butterless potatoes and watched nothing. Through the serving hatch we heard the door close to the lobby.
‘I have to tell him.’
Donn was cross. Donn only got cross when we chased the sheep.
‘Please, Donn,’ said Mum, ‘don’t do it. We can get rid of him, send him away again.’
‘He came back. He knew what would happen.’
‘He was wrong. He gets that now.’
‘I have to tell Tommy, Eithne. You have no idea.’
‘It’s your brother! Our brother!’
Then there was the sound of the back door and a sob. The parlour door was closed again.
I looked at Nancy. She was already looking at me. Florence was jabbing at the television, trying to switch it on.
‘We need to hide,’ I said.
‘We’ll be okay,’ she said. ‘Mum will make sure.’ She pulled Florence onto the settee in between us.
‘What about Ryan?’ I whispered.
‘Oh, shut up, Bernadette. Tommy won’t really hurt him.’
But I’d never said he would.
8
Now
Donn set off with Agatha. Nancy and Bernadette waved her off to the retreat with rather too much smiling. This, the first moment that Nancy and Bernadette had been left together, was silent. They continued to look down the driveway towards the gate.
‘Do you expect Bruce to come running down to the house?’ asked Nancy.
‘Sometimes.’ Bernadette turned to go back in.
‘Mum said to put Hurley in Agatha’s room. I can’t think of a better way to divide people up, can you?’
‘No. That’s fine with me. You can do it while we’re out.’
Nancy looked at their car, a seven-seater. There were seven of them in total.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Portstewart.’
‘I love that place. I wanted Hurley to know what holidays were like when I was a child.’
Bernadette stared at her. ‘Seriously?’
‘Yes. I loved coming here.’
Bernadette pressed her lips together, but then decided to say it anyway. ‘You have good memories?’
Nancy paused. This wasn’t how she’d imagined the conversation while she couldn’t sleep. She’d thought of them sitting in front of the fire, checking if there were still silver fish underneath the rug. She’d imagined them being ten and twelve, and they weren’t. She felt cross that Bernadette didn’t understand what she wanted.
‘So why are you here, then?’
‘Answers.’ Bernadette looked back down the drive. ‘And knowing my enemies.’
She began to walk to the hedge on the left. Nancy clenched her fists, but Bernadette wasn’t going to get away with her sniping. They were in their forties now. She caught her up.
‘Look I know we grew apart, but that was decades ago. I’m not your enemy and I’m glad you seem so well and happy. I know it was really hard for you, and you went through it more than me, but it was hard to watch as well.’
‘Oh, you only watched, did you?’
‘Anything that happened was not my fault. You know what happened. It was the therapists, not me.’
Bernadette was on her tiptoes, but couldn’t properly see over the hedge. ‘It was always about you.’ There was no emotion betrayed in her face at all. Her eyes were dry, her mouth making calm and considered words. ‘Children are never believed until an adult believes them, like someone hearing the
tree fall in the forest. You let me down really badly, Nancy, and I told you I’d never forgive you. I meant it.’
‘What?’ Nancy tried to control her voice. ‘When did everything become my fault?’
Bernadette smoothed her hair behind her ears. ‘I didn’t agree to this as some kind of reconciliation. We were coming anyway. This summer isn’t about you, Nancy. We’re just all here in the same place.’
‘What about Florence?’
‘What about her? Do you even know what’s happening with her?’
‘Yes!’ Nancy tried to think back to what she’d last seen on Facebook. Nothing came to mind.
Bernadette laughed.
Nancy said, ‘Why is it up to me to contact everyone? You could have called me. I’d loved you to have visited.’
‘You never suggested it.’
Nancy stumbled over her words. ‘I invited you to the wedding.’
‘Yes, yes you did.’ Bernadette shrugged and looked up at the house. ‘Thanks.’ The paint on the windows was peeling and the cracked pane of the storage room between the two front bedrooms was highlighted by the angle of the sun. She held her hand to her eyes to glance at the few clouds. ‘Anyway, we’ll see you this evening.’
No offer to take everyone and Nancy couldn’t ask. She would spend the day moving Hurley from her bedroom to Agatha’s room and see what happened next.
The girls had been bathed and were curled up in their pyjamas on the sofa, each with a DSi again.
‘Your turn, Hurley,’ said Nancy.
‘I only have showers.’
The girls whispered to each other and giggled. Nancy frowned, ‘What did you two say?’ They shrugged. She had to start thinking of them by name. Erin and . . .? She turned back to Hurley. ‘The boiler has been kept on for you and you need to keep that leg clean. We’re seeing the doctor tomorrow. Now upstairs.’
He grumbled but left the room. The girls looked at each other and then at Nancy.
‘Should you be on those before bedtime?’
‘Mum said.’
‘I’ll just check with her, shall I?’
They ignored her. She tried not to slam the door. Bernadette was in the parlour putting on some eyeliner. She lowered the small hand mirror.
‘We’re going to pop out, Nancy. You don’t mind babysitting, do you?’
‘I suppose not. Where are you going?’
‘The pub.’
Nancy thought of the windowless bars she’d seen by the road.
‘Who’s driving?’
‘We’ll do stone-paper-scissors,’ said Bernadette. She lifted up the mirror again.
Nancy couldn’t remember when she’d last seen her with make-up on. Maybe it was when she was fourteen and trying to look old enough to get served in town on the infrequent holidays from hospital before she never went home at all. Everyone knew which pubs were age-blind. Nancy never took her out with her but Bernadette often found her own way to the same pubs. Sometimes they’d walk home together and decide what film they’d pretend to have seen. That was all they’d say.
‘Should the girls be on the consoles?’
‘Oh, I don’t mind. It keeps them quiet. Just don’t let them outside on their own. They probably won’t even ask.’
‘We were always outside on our own.’
Bernadette looked at her. ‘Exactly.’
Nancy wasn’t sure what that meant. Hurley had been wandering around, now that his leg felt a bit better. ‘What time should I send them to bed?’
Bernadette looked at her watch. ‘In an hour? Nine-ish. Let them watch TV if they ask.’
‘Have you told them you’re going out?’
‘Not yet.’ Bernadette put down the mirror and pushed the top back on the eyeliner. ‘They’ll be fine. Don’t worry.’
Nancy nodded and went to check that Hurley was in the bath. He had turned the tap on but the plug wasn’t in. She put it in place and put the cold tap on too to temper the scalding water.
Hurley was lying on her bed, next to Elian who was reading.
‘Go and get your stuff ready, and stay in the bathroom so the bath doesn’t overflow.’
‘It’s OK, I haven’t put the plug in yet.’
‘I have, now go. And don’t pull the string that switches the electric heater on, OK?’ She closed the door after him. ‘Can you believe that? He knew he was wasting water.’
Elian nodded. ‘Terrible.’
‘And,’ Nancy waited until he put the book down, ‘Bernadette’s going out! I don’t know how to talk to those children. They’re so rude.’
‘I don’t know if we can go around pointing at other people’s children, Nancy,’ said Elian. He lifted the book back up. ‘You don’t mind babysitting, do you? I think it’ll be fun to visit a pub.’
She pulled his book down. ‘You’re going with them?’
‘Of course. It doesn’t take two adults to babysit.’
‘I didn’t realise.’ She knelt down on the bed. ‘You won’t repeat anything I said about Bernadette and all that, will you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The accusations, the stuff.’
‘Her being nuts? No, I won’t.’
Nancy gasped. ‘Elian!’
‘I’m kidding, mental health problems, whatever. I won’t say a word.’
‘And –’
‘And I promise not to ask anyone if they’re IRA.’
‘Jesus.’
He flipped his book back into place. Nancy went back downstairs, past the locked bathroom door where she listened to check that the water had been switched off. When she got to the bottom step she sat down. Her sister would rather invite Elian out for the evening than her. It had been years since they had been sisters, maybe, but if Mum thought it could all be fixed then she would try. But it seemed that it was only her intention. Nancy rubbed her face with both hands and went into the front room. The girls glanced at her, but didn’t move.
‘Did you know your mum and dad are going out?’
They nodded. ‘We heard.’
Nancy looked towards the serving hatch through which she and Bernadette used to listen to conversations in the parlour, if they were loud enough. There were plenty of whispered chats that they never heard. She moved to the window and looked down the driveway. The sun was nowhere near setting but had been caught in the large trees that marked the passage to the gate. She could see the sun still shining on the paddock to the right, the long grass rippling in patches. A figure appeared on the drive and she gasped, raising one hand to her chest, but it was only Donn. She smiled at her reaction, who else would it be? He looked half made without a dog next to him, looking at his side occasionally as if he could still see a black and white shape keeping faithful pace. The fields had been sold off one by one. Everyone knew it was only a matter of time before everything had gone. She needed to remember to give him some money for the food they’d eaten, for being here.
Donn walked around the side to come in the back door. It made sense with the state of his boots, but seemed to indicate that it wasn’t really his house. The owner should use the front door, no matter the mud they carried with them.
Through the serving hatch she heard him come in, the shuffle of boots and closed and opened doors. Bernadette came out of the parlour and shouted up the stairs.
‘We’re off, let’s go!’
Her husband and Nancy’s husband met on the landing.
‘Bye, girls,’ said Bernadette.
Nancy watched them go down the front steps to the car parked out the front and saw them drive away. Someone, maybe Elian, waved to her. She turned back to the room. The girls were whispering to each other.
‘Maeve wants a drink,’ said Erin. She didn’t take her eyes from the TV.
Erin and Maeve, that was it.
‘She knows where the kitchen is,’ said Nancy, and forced a smile. The girls exchanged a look. ‘How about we switch the consoles off and play a game?’
‘No thanks,’ said Erin. M
aeve giggled.
‘What’s funny?’
‘You don’t let Hurley watch TV. That’s weird.’
‘It’s not weird to not watch a screen all the time. Look,’ Nancy took each console and closed it, ‘it’s quite possible to live without it.’
‘We’ll tell,’ said Maeve. ‘You didn’t save our games.’
‘You can tell. The game is still there, I haven’t turned it off.’
‘But you closed it!’
‘And the world didn’t end.’ She placed them on the table. ‘So, there was always a chess board and cards in this cupboard.’ Nancy moved to the dresser at the back of the room and kneeled down. There were photo albums and old Christmas cards, but underneath was the chess board, folded back on itself to hold the pieces inside. She pulled it out with one hand, using the other to hold everything back inside the cupboard. When she stood up she saw the girls had slipped out. Maybe they’d gone to get a drink. Then she noticed the consoles had gone too.
She put the board on the table by the window and used her nails to unclip the sharp piece of metal which kept the sides closed together. The wooden pieces looked unscathed, although the green felt underneath them was peeling away on a few. She placed the board upright and tried to remember which order they went in – castle, knight, bishop or castle, bishop, knight?
It didn’t matter. There was a black pawn missing. She thought about delving back into the cupboard but knew the girls weren’t coming back. They were probably in their bedroom with their screens raised to their noses. Hurley was just absent. All the time.
Nancy rested her face on one hand and looked out of the window. It was getting dark now. The ceiling light reflecting from the window made it seem even darker and she could see herself, bored, slouched, within the pane of glass. There was half a memory of a group of people standing here, trying to see past their reflections, staring into the darkness of trees and, what was it? There was something out there that was scaring everyone. She’d been scared too but didn’t know why. A shape appeared above her reflection and she swung round.
The Insect Rosary Page 6