The Insect Rosary (12 page)

Then

On the roof of the kitchen extension, a cold, big larder where the turkey was always left, no feathers but head still on, there were two kittens. We were desperate to coax them down. Donn was at the kitchen table, talking to Sister Agatha. If he caught our eye he would point at the kittens and shake his head. We put our heads down, walked over to Bruce and carefully ignored the kittens until we were sure he'd looked away again.

Then we made squeaky noises and clicked our fingers together and did everything but try and pull them down by their tails.

‘It's your fault,' said Nancy, ‘you're being too noisy. Just let me do it.'

I stood still. I wanted to stroke them more.

‘Stand over there.' She pointed to the garage doors. I took a small step backwards, then another.

Nancy had no more luck than we'd had together and I was glad. She would never have let me have a go. Donn rapped on the window and signalled for her to go to the garage doors. She stood beside me and glared at him. The kittens stayed where they were.

Bruce was also unhappy about this and more persistent in distracting us than Donn. While the sulky, squealing kittens ignored us, he sat at our feet waiting for a sign that we still loved him. I gave in first, sat on the back doorstep and he came over. With a relieved sigh he flipped himself onto his back, two legs in the air, and closed his eyes. I began to tickle his tummy, his chest, back to his tummy where I found that bit that made his legs shake. It always made me feel that he was laughing. The fur underneath was softer than the wiry fur on his back, but it felt just as greasy. There were lumps of mud hanging from the softest fur at the top of his legs.

I paused to watch Nancy and he lifted his head. It was all right, there were still two kittens on the roof and none in her arms. I went back to Bruce and he laid his head back down.

Donn had given up telling us that Bruce was a working dog and not a pet. He'd had to accept that, for six weeks in the summer, Bruce was both. He never said Bruce might bite like the cows or the sheep or the pigs. I didn't believe him, not really, but even my mum backed him up on that one, which she didn't always. I hadn't stroked the pigs, and couldn't get anywhere near the sheep, only the cow and her calf in their special barn. I didn't know why they weren't in a field, like the other cows. Donn said they were a special kind of cow, but I would have thought that meant they needed a special kind of field. Maybe he was scared they'd be stolen if someone spotted them. Maybe they glowed in the dark.

I'd stopped again, without realising. Bruce was looking hopeful. I swapped hands.

‘They're not coming down,' I said. ‘You know what it's like at Mary's house.' We had chased the cats in her yard for years and never, ever caught one. You had to be sure to chase the small ones because the adult ones were actually really scary, and sometimes didn't even run but just hissed and stared you out.

Nancy had been thinking about her response. I could tell she was trying it out on me before Donn.

‘But if the kittens don't come down, Bern, they'll starve.'

‘Donn got them to kill the mice. He probably won't feed them anyway.' I got upset when I said that and put my head down so she couldn't see. Bruce's leg was shaking. After this he might want a treat, even though this was absolutely not allowed. He loved them, but everyone always wondered how the Sugar Puffs emptied so quickly. Nancy knew. Sometimes we'd give him one handful each, so he liked her as much as he liked me. Sometimes, when it was both of us and we thought it was cold, we'd coax him into the house and sit by the fire. We usually got caught when we did that, but Mum wasn't ever that cross, only Donn and Sister Agatha.

Nancy had come up with another plan.

‘When they leave the kitchen, you go in and get some ham or chicken from the fridge, Bern.'

‘You do it,' I said. ‘My hands smell of dog now.'

‘You can wash them.'

I could, but I knew how long it took, and how much soap, to get the greasy smell of work out of my fingers. Hours afterwards, when I lifted a fork to my mouth, I'd still get a stink of Bruce. I didn't mind, but I was sure the grumpy kittens would.

‘Even if you catch one it'll just scratch you,' I said.

‘Not if I feed it.'

‘And when we come back, they won't remember you. Cats aren't like dogs.' I didn't know if Bruce really remembered me or just looked happy and hopeful whenever anyone smaller than an adult turned up. But I thought he did. Dogs are clever. You'd never find a cat herding sheep or barking at cars. Not that there was much point to that, unless you were a burglar. Yes, Bruce was an expert sheep herding, burglar scaring dog, and that's why I didn't mind smelling like him. Not really.

Mum opened the parlour window and called us in. ‘There's someone here to see you. Wash your hands first.'

I couldn't guess who we'd have to wash to meet, unless it was a priest, but they were always in the best room. In the front room was Auntie Beth with a blanket.

‘Meet your new cousin, Sinead.'

Auntie Beth held a blanket towards us. Nancy peered into it and made a fake smile. I was more worried about what I would see and bobbed forward for a quick look.

‘Careful, Bernadette.'

She pulled the baby away and made me sit down. When I was suitably pinned in with cushions she slowly placed the baby in my arms. Nancy started to back out of the room.

Beth saw her. ‘Hold on, Nancy, your turn next.'

Beth hovered next to me. I tried not to look down, to just hold the thing and not wake it so all its holes opened up. It moved its head and the thought of spotting a little pointed ear was nearly too much, but I had to know. I looked. A wrinkly face with small pouty mouth. It had long eyelashes and a splatter of dark hair on its head.

‘Does it have a tail?' I asked.

Beth looked confused. ‘No, Bernadette. And it's not an it, she's a girl.'

I thought that girl mice had tails as well, but I nodded as if I understood.

‘I've had enough now.'

Beth looked relieved and lifted the vague, airy weight from my arms. She called Nancy over and settled her in the same rigid position. She took up her hovering position, hands half extended.

‘I am twelve,' said Nancy. ‘You don't need to watch me like I'm a baby.'

Beth backed away and sat on the settee next to my mother. Florence was curled on her lap, unsure about this new pet.

I stood by the side of Nancy's chair and had another look.

I whispered in her ear, ‘It doesn't look much like a mouse, Nancy. I think they've been given the wrong baby.'

Nancy bit her lip and then started to shake with giggles. Beth jumped up and took the baby back.

‘What's the matter, Nancy?'

Her giggles grew until she was laughing so hard the mouse baby woke up and started its shaking mew-cry.

‘Nancy,' Mum said, ‘what on earth's the matter?'

By this time Nancy was doubled over, trying to get her breath back. I was terrified she'd tell them what I said, although I wasn't sure what bit was making her laugh. I wouldn't think it was funny to be given the wrong baby, but I'm sure it happened. Sometimes I thought that I might have been the wrong baby. I had different hair to the others, much darker and straighter, different colour eyes to everyone else's. Everyone's. That wasn't funny. Dad used to call me his blue eyed girl until I thumped him once and burst into tears.

But Nancy didn't tell for once. We sat in disgrace, Beth looking at us as if we were a danger to her baby, until a car drew up outside. My mother stood up to see who it was and sat down again. Clearly it was someone known too well to open the door for, or known too little to open the door before they knocked.

Beth resumed her ‘tired but happy' new mother look and posed with the still bawling baby on the sofa, balanced with its head on her shoulder. She looked at me as if it was my fault that the new visitor would see her baby like this instead of peacefully sleeping as it should have been. I thought she'd be going back to the caravan any minute, but Jackie had disappeared off. He must have had work or something.

There was a knock at the front door, and then the visitor opened it himself. Only one person did this. Me and Nancy moved a little closer together as Tommy came into the room.

‘So, where's this new arrival?'

He wasn't in his work boots and his hands were cleaner than usual. He'd not brushed his hair, but an effort had been made. And all for a mouse.

‘Nancy, let Tommy sit in the chair,' said Mum.

She jumped from it and stood behind the sofa, where I joined her.

Beth handed over the baby for Tommy to hold.

‘Ah, she's a beauty, Bethany. An absolute beauty.'

Beth beamed. This was what we were supposed to say, I realised.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a note, forcing the baby's hand around it. ‘Have you chosen a name?'

‘Sinead.'

‘Ah,' Tommy's eyes rolled heavenward and settled back on the baby, ‘a lovely Irish name. Perfect.' He didn't seem to mind the frantic squalling, but lifted the scarlet face to his mouth and kissed its head. ‘I think she needs her Mammy.'

Beth lifted her beautiful baby up, the bank note floating to the floor, and placed it back on her shoulder.

‘I'll just walk her a bit. The girls set her off. She's normally a very placid baby. This isn't like her at all.' She turned away and glared at us again.

‘Not you, I hope?' Tommy asked Florence.

Florence shook her head and put her fingers in her mouth.

‘No,' said Beth, ‘those ones.'

I felt Nancy tense as he turned his eyes on us.

‘Well, youse two should know better.'

Nancy looked away, but I didn't like to take my eyes off him. You never knew. He had slightly longer hair than Donn and sharper cheekbones. From behind, though, I'd sometimes mistaken one for the other, both having the same farmer's outfit and big shoulders. He waited for us to say something, but we didn't.

My mother said, ‘And what have you been up to, Tommy?'

‘Ah, the usual. Been spending a lot of time down at Skull Lane, sorting things out.'

He smiled. I saw my mother's hands move quickly, one onto Florence's back and one onto her head. She stroked her hair.

‘Have you seen Donn?' she said. ‘He's around.'

‘Sure, I'll catch up with him shortly. I'd like some tea if there's any going.'

‘Oh,' said Beth, ‘how could we be so rude! Nancy, go and get that ready for us.'

My mother stood. ‘I'll help. We'll all go, so you can have a bit of peace.'

She let us all leave before she followed us. She closed the door behind us and I wasn't sure about the look on her face.

We slipped back outside but the kittens had gone.

Nancy sighed. ‘We need to get those rosary beads back before Sister Agatha asks about them.'

I nodded and we went around to the stable. Nancy stood at the door and pointed.

‘I'm not going in after last time.'

‘I swear I didn't lock you in.'

‘I'm still not. You find them.'

I shuddered. I'd dreamt about the rosary beads, about the spiders and beetles and centipedes using them to say a little insect rosary. I pulled open the door and waited for Nancy to slam it shut behind me. I promised myself I wouldn't scream and took two steps forward. They were there, dusty and dangling.

‘Don't close the door,' I said. Nancy said nothing. I picked my way across some planks, unhooked them and put mine around my neck. I saw something new, a lump in the corner. It was the green bag I'd last seen on the parlour floor. I swallowed.

‘Nancy?'

Nothing. So that was her revenge, to just go off without me. Maybe she'd tell Sister Agatha or Mum where I was. But usually she took revenge pretty quickly and I couldn't think of anything I'd done today. I bent down and unzipped the bag a little. I couldn't tell if it was Ryan's.

It went dark and I turned. Tommy was in the doorway with his arm around Nancy's neck.

‘See anything interesting?' he said.

I stood up.

‘Nancy tells me that you mentioned what you saw in the parlour the other day.'

She bowed her head and he forced her chin back up with his hand. My heart was beating so fast I felt faint.

‘But she doesn't believe a word of it because she's a sensible girl. You wouldn't be planning on telling anyone else, now?'

I shook my head.

‘Sure, who would you tell?'

I saw a tear run down the side of Nancy's face. I gripped her beads tightly to stop myself from throwing them at him.

‘I would tell my dad.'

‘Would you now?'

‘Yes.' Dad was safe, was far away and could tell anyone he wanted. ‘You can't get him.'

‘No,' he said, ‘but I know exactly where your ma is and there's space for her where your uncle went.' He smiled. ‘Still feel like telling your da?'

I shook my head. He tightened his hold on Nancy's neck until her head was pressed against his chest, kissed her head and then let go.

‘I have things to do.' He stretched his arms out. ‘Behave yourselves now, youse two.'

I waited for her to say something but she didn't. I stared at her but she just looked at the ground.

‘You told him.' I threw her rosary beads at her feet.

She just looked at them and I went back to the house.

Now

She got out of bed and looked out of the side window, across Bryn's field. The draught through the window was strong although the hedges didn't move with any obvious wind. She looked at the rise and dip of the field, the stones in the corner. It wasn't that she'd forgotten everything. She just didn't have to carry it around with her, like Bernie. And look what that had done to her.

But Hurley – he was so calm here, so different. It had to be worth a go.

She hadn't talked to Elian about it yet. She couldn't until she had resolved her own thoughts, and he'd say no anyway. He'd never seen Hurley at his very worst, just the aftermath. He didn't appreciate how good things had been here.

She shivered and pulled a jumper over her pyjamas before wrapping Agatha's dressing gown around her. She pulled the door to the bedroom open and closed it gently behind her. The skylight glowed green as she padded down the stairs through the silent house, her toes rubbing against the worn carpet, and then recoiling against the cold parlour tiles.

Donn was sitting at the table with a teapot and mug. He nodded to her.

She said, ‘Is there any tea left?'

He nodded again and she fetched a mug from the kitchen and the plastic carton of milk. She shook it and then sat down next to him.

‘We'll have to get some more groceries. I might pop out before they get up, if I can borrow your car.'

‘I need my car today.'

‘OK, it can wait.' She poured a cup, noticing that it didn't steam as much as she'd hoped, before adding the milk. ‘You must have been up for ages.'

He didn't answer. His eyes were fixed on the door to Cassie's room, as if he expected someone to knock or walk through. Cassie's room, Bryn's field, all these names which held on to places long after the people had gone.

‘Why is the field called Bryn's?' she asked.

‘It's always been called that.' He turned his gaze to the lightening grey sky and then back again.

‘You know the stones in that field, what are they?'

He shrugged, but looked at her as he did it.

She said, ‘Didn't Dad think –'

‘You're not to go near them.'

‘Why not?'

He opened his mouth and then closed it again, looking outside. ‘They're dangerous, unstable.'

‘They've been like that since before I was born. I don't think they can fall any more than they have.' He didn't look back. ‘And there can't be much danger if you keep your sheep there.'

‘Don't argue, Nancy. It's still my field for the time being.'

‘That's what I wanted to talk to you about. How much are you selling the farm for?'

He laughed. ‘None of your business.'

‘But it might be. I think I'd like to buy it. I think it would be good for us and good for Hurley. He's like you, he understands –' what, misanthropic silence? ‘He understands things like you do. And you could stay.'

Donn finished his tea and shook his head. ‘I have a buyer. That's where I'm going now.'

‘I'm family. Where will you go? Become a monk? You belong here and I'm giving you that option.'

He pushed his chair back. ‘I'm not staying here to see everything change. This has been my entire life, for better or worse, but there's no money in it any more. I'm selling and then I'm leaving.' He pushed himself up, using the table.

‘Who wants to buy it?'

‘An old friend.' He grimaced, choking back a forced laugh.

‘But surely they only want the land. What about the house, your home?'

He turned away and she thought he was blinking.

‘Who is it, Donn?'

‘Mary's son-in-law. He lives at Mary's farm now. She's long dead, of course.'

‘I remember her dogs.' Nancy shuddered. ‘Weren't you going out with Mary's daughter? Dating, I mean.'

‘I thought that was the case.' He walked to the lobby and opened the door. ‘Turns out I was wrong.'

‘Did I meet him, the son-in-law ?'

‘You did. Tommy.'

He closed the door to the lobby behind him. She heard him unlock the back door and close that too. She watched him pull his smeared, worn jacket on, have another look at the sky and get into the car. The keys were always in the ignition. He backed out of the yard, the reverse gear high pitched, and turned in the gateway.

Nancy sipped at her tea, but it was too cold. She carried the mug to the sink and boiled the kettle again. She looked at the side driveway. Donn's car was sitting at the end of it, but she couldn't see any traffic passing on the roads. Maybe he was thinking it over, changing his mind. As the kettle clicked off he pulled away to the right and she sighed. She made tea in a fresh mug, pouring some of the cold tea into it. It was a trick she learned from other au pairs to save milk in their bedrooms, separated from the families they worked for. In some houses they liked the help to disappear when the parents were at home so they could pretend they weren't there at all. She only came out when they were leaving for work, going out at night, when they needed her. God forbid she should make a drink in the family kitchen on a weekend, even if they didn't give her enough money to actually go out.

She sat in front of the fire and added some turf bricks to warm herself up, then folded her cold feet underneath her, wrapped in the dressing gown so she couldn't feel them against her skin.

Tommy again. In her mind he'd become unreal over the years, but she thought she may have dreamt about him because the picture she had today was clearer. He had been handsome, had dressed like a farmer but in a nicer way than Donn. His clothes were cleaner and he smelled soaped and perfumed. Her eyes were drawn now to Cassie's room, in the same way that Donn's had been. There was a link between that room and Tommy, but she couldn't quite remember what it was. And Bernie. Of course, Bernie.

How could Donn want to sell outside the family, especially to him, given a choice? She would need to get her ideas together, get Bernie onside as well as Elian. Maybe her parents would know how to persuade him.

The fire was getting warmer now. She finished her tea and rested her head back on the headrest.

 

The sound of plates woke her. She lifted her head up and felt her neck twinge.

‘Couldn't sleep?' asked Bernie.

Nancy yawned. ‘Those rooks, crows, whatever they are, woke me. I couldn't get back off after that.'

The sun was shining into the yard now, high above the garage roof. The fire had gone out.

‘Want any bacon?' asked Adrian.

‘Please.'

Bernie went to the bottom of the stairs to shout the girls down.

‘Erin and Maeve, breakfast!'

Nancy wondered why the house felt more like Bernie's than Donn's, or Agatha's, when she was here.

Nancy limped over to the table, shaking the pins and needles from her right foot.

‘Where are you going today?'

Bernie put plates on the table. ‘We're visiting Auntie Beth. Erin and Maeve, now!'

‘I haven't seen her for years. Never liked her much. Why are you going?'

‘It's just what family are supposed to do.'

Nancy flushed and looked away. Bernie headed back to the door.

‘Don't!' shouted Nancy.

‘Don't what?'

‘Call them three times,' Nancy mumbled, feeling stupid.

‘Seriously? What's got into you today?' Bernie rolled her eyes and shouted again. This time there were footsteps in response. ‘Good grief. Three times. You won't remember anything else, but you remember that. The number of times we did it and no one died.' She paused. ‘No one we did it to died.'

Erin and Maeve sat at the table and began to eat the bacon sandwiches. Adrian delivered Nancy and Bernie's and returned to the kitchen.

Nancy picked one half up and picked at the searing fat hanging out.

‘Do you remember anything about the history of the stones in Bryn's field?'

‘Full of questions today, Nancy? I remember Dad always wanting to go and have a proper look at them. Donn wouldn't let him.'

‘What did Dad think they were?'

‘Ancient. He thought they were really old, maybe a tomb.'

‘Why wouldn't Donn let him go and look?'

‘I couldn't say.' Bernie took a bite of her sandwich and shrugged, but her eyes stayed on Nancy's. ‘Could you say?'

Adrian came in with his sandwich. ‘Your granddad thought that if people knew he'd lose the field. He didn't want the council or the government coming and claiming any of his land so he made Donn swear to keep it quiet.'

Nancy tried to look uninterested. ‘So they've always known they were Neolithic or something?'

‘Why are you asking?' interrupted Bernie. ‘Did you go into the field without asking Donn?'

‘I didn't know I had to ask him.'

‘We were never allowed in. I thought you would have remembered that, at least.'

Erin swallowed. ‘We're not allowed either. Mum said.' She smirked.

‘I don't see why I shouldn't now,' said Nancy.

‘You always behave like you own the place,' said Bernie.

‘That's funny coming from you. What's the problem? It's not your bloody house, Bernadette. Stop treating me like an intruder.'

‘Don't you swear in front of my children.'

‘Oh, send them out if you don't like it.'

Erin and Maeve were watching, mouths open and eyes glittering. Now they turned to their mother who shook her head.

‘Just say sorry, Nancy, and we can forget about it.'

Nancy picked up her sandwich and took her first bite; bitter wholemeal bread, sweet fatty butter and crispy bacon. She took her time chewing it.

‘I think,' she said, ‘that if Donn wants to tell me where I should and shouldn't go, he can. He's selling up anyway so he can't be too bothered about who goes where.'

‘Not yet though. Is he? What did he say?' Bernie spoke quietly and Nancy had the impression this was not to alert the children. There was no way they were going to miss any of this.

‘He has a buyer.'

‘Who is?'

Nancy took another bite and pretended to try to force the memory to the front of her brain.

‘Tommy, I think he said.'

Bernie gasped and, standing up, tipped her chair back onto the tiles. Adrian put his hand out to her, but she ran from the room.

‘What's going on?' she asked Adrian.

‘Just watch the girls,' he said. ‘Don't let them come out.' He followed her.

Erin and Maeve watched him leave and close the door and then refocused back on Nancy.

‘Eat up,' she said. The mouthful stuck in her throat. She felt guilty. She should have been more sensitive. She shouldn't even have said his name.

‘We're finished,' Erin said. There was still more than half a sandwich on both their plates.

‘Eat it all up, please,' said Nancy. She forced a smile. The sound of Bernie and Adrian's voices was carrying through the serving hatch into the lobby. Nancy knew that she should try to distract the girls but couldn't think of anything at all to say to them. They all ended up pretending to eat, picking at crumbs, and trying to assemble words from the noise.