She wandered back. The girls were back in the car, heads bowed together.
‘No stamina, these young people,’ said Nancy.
Bernie smiled and lay back on the blanket. She looked like she was sunbathing fully clothed, but there was no sun at all now. She looked relaxed, but Nancy could see a tension in her face from trying to be normal, trying to be sisters. Trying not to ask again.
‘A proper British holiday,’ said Nancy, and lay down next to her. ‘I forgot my sunglasses.’
‘I forgot my sun cream.’
‘Do you think the boys will get heatstroke out there?’
Bernie smiled, but it faded quickly. ‘I think we’ll give town a miss today. We can do it another day.’
‘Please,’ said Nancy, ‘can’t we stay out a bit longer? I don’t want to go back yet.’
‘OK. The causeway, maybe.’
‘Maybe. Listen, Bernie, I need to talk to Agatha before anything else happens.’
She sat up, ‘Why?’
Nancy couldn’t tell her what their mother had said. Agatha might just know something that would mean she shouldn’t or couldn’t say anything. Then she wouldn’t feel so guilty. It wouldn’t be her fault. She looked at Bernie.
‘It just feels wrong. Donn, Mum and Beth know what’s happening, or a bit of it, but she lived there for years and she needs to know too. It will affect her, one way or another.’
‘She knows. Someone would have told her.’
‘It just doesn’t feel right not to see her.’
Bernie lay back. ‘Do it if you want. I’m not going.’
Nancy looked back to the dunes. If Hurley and Elian knew what she’d done – Bernie couldn’t be trusted not to say. She could never be trusted with a secret.
The clouds had cleared above them and the sun crept across the sand towards her.
31
Then
He handed me the pole near the end when there were only a couple of sheep left. The sheep which had been through looked utterly exhausted and miserable, but he was letting me have a go, so I tried not to look sad. Nancy was off again and I had to prove how old and responsible I was so I could get to go with her. But I didn’t want to do this at all.
He pushed the sheep into the long, deep pool. It was full of a milky liquid but with quite a lot of mud now.
‘Push it under with the pole!’ he shouted.
I tried to get the pole on its head but I couldn’t seem to push it. I kept thinking about how it would sting its eyes or it might swallow some. Maybe it would drown and it would be my fault.
It was halfway now, struggling to the other end.
‘Do it now, Bernie!’
I lifted my end of the pole but it didn’t go down at the other end. The sheep clambered out and began to bleat and shake itself.
‘Oh, for God’s sake. You eejit!’
Donn jumped into the pen, grabbed the sheep by its head and got it through the gate, pulled it down to the other end and pushed it in again. It really struggled this time and I knew it was my fault. It had used all its energy to get through it the first time. Donn grabbed the pole and pushed it under, deeply and properly. I couldn’t wait to see if it got out again. I couldn’t see properly anyway. I walked back to the house.
It took forever to force my wellies off and by the time I had I was crying properly in the mud on the floor. I didn’t want to speak to anyone but there weren’t many places I could go to be on my own. There were voices coming through the kitchen door and the serving hatch which opened into the front room. I could risk running up the stairs, but would be caught and questioned and made to feel an idiot. I decided to lock myself in the downstairs toilet until I was back to normal.
In there, door locked, I remembered how much I hated this room. The tall, dappled window was covered in flies, the windowsill covered in their husks. No-one knew where they came from. They were just always there, always dying. It was a big enough room to have a spare wardrobe in there and still feel big. There was a coat rack with lots of hats and raincoats that I’d never seen Donn wear, wellies in a variety of adult sizes that still carried the fields in the grooves underneath. I didn’t look at the flies and sat in the corner until they began to land near my feet and head.
Nancy was gone and too old for anything now. Donn was angry with me. Bruce liked Donn more. My mum was always busy and Florence was stupid. Sister Agatha hated me.
I washed my face in the sink, dried it on my sleeve, put my wellies back on and went outside again. I climbed over the gate into Bryn’s field and ran right across it, scattering the sheep. I ran from the hedge back to the house, then from top to bottom and corner to corner. When I’d finished all the lines I could think of, pretty out of breath, I went back inside. This time I went straight into the parlour.
Tommy was sitting at the table. I was surprised because I thought Nancy was with him, having more driving lessons.
‘You seen Donn?’
I tried to control my breathing. ‘He’s outside. At the sheep dip.’ I pointed in the direction of the dip and went to open the door to the hall.
‘Hey. Wait a wee minute.’
I looked back. He leaned forward and smiled.
‘We need to have another little chat.’
I stayed by the door.
He beckoned me over. ‘Quickly now, I haven’t got long.’
His hands dropped between his legs, his elbows resting on his knees. I edged towards him, to what I hoped was out of grabbing range.
‘How old are you again?’
‘I’m ten, and Nancy’s only twelve.’
‘Ah, ten. That’s a nice age. Nothing to worry about when you’re ten, is there?’ His hands flickered. He was speaking strangely, like he thought someone might be listening. He raised his eyebrows. ‘You get out and about a lot, eh?’
I shrugged.
‘You’re getting big.’ His smile faded, ‘But you’re not that big in the scheme of things. You’re just a wee girl, your mammy says. No problem, I say. But there are places you shouldn’t go. Did your mammy not tell you this?’
I thought through all the places we shouldn’t go but did. ‘Like Skull Lane?’
He cocked his head on one side. ‘And what would you know about that?’
‘Nothing. Only what you said.’ I lifted my chin up. He was just an idiot who liked Nancy, a dirty old man. Up close I could see there were even wrinkles around his eyes.
‘It’s where you’ll end up, at this rate.’ He laughed. ‘I’m just reminding you of a few things, now your sister’s not around to keep an eye on you. The field here,’ he gestured with his thumb behind him, ‘is one of those places that I never want to see you. Got it?’
I widened my eyes as if I had no idea what he was talking about. ‘Bryn’s field. The one with the stones?’
‘That’s the one.’
I felt my face get hot.
‘I don’t even want you looking at it. Or going in it. Again.’
I flushed even more. He’d seen me. I knew he had.
‘I don’t even want you talking about it. You don’t even mention this to your sister, just keep away. This isn’t the first time I’ve said it and I don’t like repeating myself, so you tell me now if there’s anything you don’t understand.’
I shook my head.
‘Grand.’ He sat back. ‘You do as you’re told and we’ll have no more problems.’
I backed away to the door and tried to feel my way to the handle. I couldn’t get it and glanced around to get hold of it.
‘We don’t want anything to happen to Mammy, now, do we?’
I looked at him again, but he was just pouring his tea from the pot as if he’d said nothing at all.
I opened the door and ran to the front room. Mum was sitting at the table with Florence and half a jigsaw. Mum saw my face.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing,’ I said and looked behind me.
‘Did Donn say something?’
�
��I was rubbish at the dipping. He got cross.’ I sat at the table with them.
‘Where’s Nancy?’
‘Don’t know.’
‘Want to help with the jigsaw?’
‘Mine!’ shouted Florence, grabbing at all the loose pieces.
‘OK, sorry,’ said Mum. She shifted them all over to Florence and looked at me. ‘You look hot,’ she said. ‘Do you feel OK?’
I looked out of the window. I could see Tommy’s car now, in the drive by the archway. Mum must have heard him pull up. She got up and closed the front room door gently.
‘Are you sure nothing’s happened?’ she whispered.
I nodded and then a question burst out. ‘Where did Ryan go?’
‘Just away.’ She spoke quietly.
‘When’s he coming back?’
‘I don’t know.’
I felt that Tommy was in the room with us, listening at the door or the serving hatch, hearing things from Donn and Agatha and everyone. But not Mum, please not Mum.
But the longer I sat there the more cross I got. Why did he get to come in my family’s house and tell me which rooms and fields I couldn’t go in? He’d taken my sister away and then acted like he was in charge of me. Why did I even listen? He was horrible to Mum, but she let him be in the house. That was her fault. If I said someone was horrible she always said to keep away from them, but she didn’t do that. She just hid with Florence all the time. I wanted Nancy back.
32
Now
She jangled Donn’s car keys. She fetched them from the car just to jangle them. She didn’t want them to stay around the farm at the minute. She tried to sell the trip but it wasn’t working.
‘It’s a convent. When are you ever going to visit a convent again, Hurley?’
Hurley didn’t look at her. Elian snorted.
‘That’s not helpful,’ she said. She tried to speak more brightly, ‘Road trip! You love road trips, come on.’
‘I want to stay here,’ said Elian.
‘Me too,’ said Hurley.
‘Fine,’ she said, ‘what are you two going to do?’
‘We’re making a camp,’ said Hurley.
‘Oh.’ Nancy looked at Elian, ‘Just you two?’
He nodded. ‘Boys only. Adrian’s going to join us later.’
Nancy smiled. ‘Good. That sounds really good. I’ll leave you to it then.’
She walked out to the lobby feeling pleased that they would be spending time together, and then hesitated by the back door. There was a feeling, a bare suspicion, that she’d missed something, not asked the right questions. She opened the back door and got into Donn’s car. She tucked the directions into the visor and turned the car around in the yard.
Adrian and Bernie were standing by the gate to the barns. They waved as she drove past.
The sun was shining on the mountains as she pulled into a parking space in front of the shop in the village nearest the convent. She went inside and bought a sausage roll and a packet of crisps. She added a Mars bar as it was being rung up.
Outside she looked for somewhere to sit and eat, but ended up getting back into the car. The street was empty and, it struck her, very plain. There were no adverts in the shop window, no colour on the houses. A dog barked in the distance and a door slammed. She saved the Mars bar for the journey back and drove on to the convent.
It looked like a small, religious country house, a statue of Mary fitted into the arch above the gates, a black cross above the door. The pebble dash was flaking from the walls and the window frames needed painting. She parked with the three other cars and walked up the steps. The paint on the cross was peeling away too, the steps speckled with dark flakes.
The door opened and a nun greeted her. She wore a black blouse and long skirt, her hair hidden by a veil which fell to her shoulders.
‘Ach, you must be wee Nancy, all the way from America.’ She guided Nancy in by the elbow and closed the door. ‘Your aunt is so looking forward to seeing you again.’
Nancy’s eyes widened. ‘Is she?’
Guided through the corridors, past ten closed and silent doors, the nun found out where she lived, with whom and for how long. Maybe, thought Nancy, being here will have settled Agatha’s mind to rest. Now she’s achieved what she always wanted. She had imagined a sober building set against the sin of laughter. The nun opened a door. Agatha was sitting by a window at the back of the house, rosary in both hands. The friendly nun smiled.
‘I’m sure you’ll be wanting a cup of tea?’
‘That would be lovely, thank you,’ said Nancy.
The nun smiled as she left the room.
‘Hi,’ said Nancy.
Agatha nodded. Nancy sat down in the chair next to her.
‘Sit across from me, Nancy. I can’t see you properly without hurting my neck.’
Nancy switched to the chair on the other side of the window. It had to be north facing. The parlour at the farm was too. She could see the sun shining on the ground twenty feet away but none of its warmth reached the room.
‘She’s very nice,’ said Nancy, pointing towards the door.
‘Sister Joseph. Talks.’ Agatha’s face, framed by white and black, looked younger than it had a few weeks ago.
Nancy looked around at the upright chairs and small bookshelf by the door. Because there was no TV the chairs all faced each other, the window or the wall.
‘Is this your room?’
‘Don’t be silly, Nancy.’
Sister Joseph came back and hovered next to them. Nancy smiled at her.
Agatha sighed. ‘You need to fetch that little table, over there.’
Nancy carried it and placed it between the chairs.
‘A bit closer to me,’ said Agatha, ‘and mind my toes.’
Nancy rearranged it. Sister Joseph settled the tray and left again. Nancy sat back in her chair.
‘You have crumbs on you.’ Agatha pointed.
Nancy looked down and brushed the crisp crumbs from her t-shirt. Agatha watched the crumbs fall onto the colourful squares, like an old pub carpet, and shook her head. Nancy felt thankful that her son wasn’t here after all, but missed Elian’s incessant need to fill quietness with words.
Agatha looked back out of the window and began to finger the beads on her rosary. Nancy tried to remember what the sequence of prayers was, but she didn’t know whether Agatha was picking up where she’d left off or was starting again. She seemed to remember Agatha’s lips moving when she’d done this before. Maybe she was just fidgeting. Maybe she wasn’t even called Agatha any more. Nancy tried to enjoy the calm and looked out across the mountains. It must be odd to have switched to this view after decades of looking out over a farm yard, the view restricted to thirty feet. She saw a couple of black veils in the mid ground. There seemed to be no boundary between the house and the mountain. Maybe they owned the mountain. Maybe –
‘Nancy!’
Agatha was pointing to the teapot. Nancy placed the strainer on top of the teacup closest to Agatha and poured. She moved the strainer to her own cup. It looked exactly the same as the one Agatha had used at the farm. She didn’t remember seeing it after Agatha left, but then they used tea bags now rather than the thick loose strands. Maybe she’d brought it with her. Maybe all the novices had to bring their own tea strainers. She tried not to giggle.
‘Why are you smiling?’
‘I’m not used to the quiet. It makes me nervous.’
‘And that makes you smile?’
Nancy shrugged. ‘How have you been?’
Agatha didn’t reply. Nancy wasn’t sure if she’d started praying again. She added the milk to the tea and wondered how long it would take to drink all the tea in the pot. It was a family sized one and they were very small cups. She blew on hers.
‘You never did have any patience.’
So she couldn’t be praying if she kept talking whenever she had something to say. She was just being awkward. Or quiet. Or godly, or something.
Agatha grunted. ‘People pleaser.’
Nancy wasn’t sure if she meant her or Sister Joseph. Both, probably.
‘Hurley’s enjoying being at the farm.’ Nancy drank her tea and poured another. ‘We’ve been very busy. We went to Portstewart, some standing stones near Belfast and he went to a science museum which he really liked. I helped Donn move the sheep from one field to another and we nearly lost one, but he got it back, so that’s fine. We went to see Auntie Beth too, which was nice.’
‘No, it wasn’t. She just about threw you out, you were so rude.’
Nancy drank her second cup and her mouth filled with bitter tea leaves. She held them in her mouth and then swallowed them down.
‘Is that what she said? Have you seen her?’
‘Of course I’ve seen her. She’s my sister.’
Nancy didn’t pour another cup. She wasn’t here to entertain a bored nun. She was here for a reason.
Agatha sipped at her tea until the cup was empty.
‘Sisters,’ she said again.
Nancy remembered to use the strainer when she filled Agatha’s cup. They both looked out of the window and Nancy didn’t say anything this time. Clouds passed over, making the ground flicker with shadow. She thought of Hurley and Elian in their den. She imagined that Elian would raid the garage for tools to do it properly, saws to hack off branches and nails to secure them together. He wouldn’t make a den that lasted a day or two, it would have to be a permanent reminder that he was there and he did this. She hoped Hurley would get a go at something and not be left to witness Elian’s triumph over nature. She should have thought of it. She would be better at getting Hurley involved, and her den wouldn’t have involved saws. She’d done that kind of thing all the time as a child, all the time before Bernie –
‘Sisters,’ Agatha said again, ‘should look after each other.’
‘I know.’
‘But you didn’t.’
The Insect Rosary Page 21