We turned a corner and began to climb a steep hill. The engine screamed and shuddered again.
‘Oh, Christ.’
I imagined what Sister Agatha would do if she heard that. He grated the stick down to first gear. The scream came back and then there was a bang. The engine went quiet and grey smoke poured from the engine. There was another louder bang.
Dad talked quickly and lightly, ‘Let’s get out of the car, OK? Take the map!’
I scrambled out, the smoke burning my eyes and throat, and stood with Dad a few feet behind the boot.
‘Will it explode?’ I grabbed for his hand.
He frowned. ‘I’m not sure.’ He looked at me. ‘We’re a bit stuck, even if it doesn’t, Bernie.’
‘Where are we?’
‘South Armagh. We were only a couple of miles away from the dyke, it’s a real shame.’
We watched the car smoking for a little while.
He said, ‘I think it would have started burning if it was going to.’
Dad took the map and let go of my hand. We sat on the verge and he flicked through the pages to find us. He put his finger on a road.
I said, ‘There’s was a farmhouse before we turned the corner. I saw it over the fields. We could ask for help.’
Dad smiled sadly and shook his head. ‘This isn’t the kind of place where you can walk up to someone’s house without being invited.’
‘But we need a phone.’
‘Trust me, Bernie, it’s complicated. We’ll have to walk to a village and find a phone box. Maybe there’ll be a garage and they can sort the car out too.’
I could tell he was hiding something.
‘And I’ll buy you something to eat while it all gets sorted. It’ll be OK, right, Bernadette?’
I nodded. He stood up and pulled me up.
‘Just a bit of a walk, nothing to worry about.’ He didn’t look as if there was nothing to worry about.
We walked back up the hill, more quickly past the car which was still smoking. At the top he looked back at it.
‘I hope that hand brake holds. I should have left it in gear, probably.’
I could tell he was thinking of going back, so I pulled his hand and we walked down the other side of the hill.
‘Can I see the map?’
He handed it to me with his finger pointing to where we were. The village looked quite close on the map but I was used to car pace, marking off roads and places at speed. The road was all hills and after half an hour we hadn’t passed another road to cross off.
‘At least the weather’s nice,’ Dad said.
At the top of the next hill we could still see the smoke showing where we’d stopped.
‘It’s going to take hours to get there.’ I handed the map back to him.
‘Can you hear a car?’
I listened and shook my head. ‘Someone might give us a lift.’
Dad looked around. ‘If someone stops just leave that decision to me. Don’t say anything, promise me.’
I nodded.
He started to walk faster, dragging me a little. We were at the bottom of another hill now and there was a signpost just ahead.
‘This is good,’ said Dad, ‘we’re on the right track.’
Now I speeded up too. It would tell us how far and then I’d know how long it would take. Three miles an hour I could walk, Dad said, but I didn’t know if that counted hills.
‘If you want to have a rest, we can,’ said Dad. ‘You can tell me what’s been happening. Whatever’s upset you, you can tell me. I’ll try to answer all your questions.’
I focussed on the signpost. I just wanted to know and then I could think about telling him, about how to tell him. We were nearly there, nearly there. I could nearly read it. Behind us there was a massive explosion and we turned together. There was much more smoke than before, black now and billowing.
‘We can’t go back, Dad.’
‘What do you mean?’
I waited for him to look at me and took a deep breath, ‘Tommy killed Uncle Ryan. Please don’t take me back to the farm. We have to go home. Everyone knows it’s true, Dad, even Mum, and they’re scared of him and he said he’ll kill you and me and –’
‘Oh, Bernie,’ he stroked my hair, ‘you’ve been really ill. You must have had some horrible nightmares. It was a sheep that died, I told you. Honestly.’
‘Dad, listen!’
‘Hold on.’
He stared up, following the smoke. We both heard the engine this time as the army truck raced up to us and screeched to a halt across the road. Four soldiers jumped out, guns pointing at us.
‘Get down on the ground! Get the fuck down!’
40
Now
‘An hour and half to check-in,’ Adrian shouted. ‘Can we make it?’
‘Yes, book it!’ Bernie shooed the children upstairs, ‘Ten minutes and we’re gone. Anything that gets left is your responsibility. We’re not coming back for it. Go!’
The girls squealed and ran past Nancy. She heard them arguing over whose bag was whose.
Elian was already in the bedroom with the cases zipped up on the bed.
‘You’re very prepared,’ said Nancy. ‘Eager to leave?’
‘I’m just eager to see something else.’ He looked at her sideways. ‘I do understand why you had to come. But, really, it’s a god-forsaken place. If you’re not emotionally attached to it, I suppose.’
‘I suppose.’ She was trying to be placatory, but couldn’t. ‘No, it’s a fabulous place. I just went about it all wrong. We should have had a car, we should have done more. I messed up and tried to recreate a childhood holiday with an adult. But I’ve come to decision about Hurley.’
‘You have? Do I have a say?’
‘Yes, but so does he. I say no drugs. He doesn’t learn like other children, so what? He’s not hopeless, he’s just different. He doesn’t need to be doped up. I am going to fight for him, not the version that makes his teacher’s life easier.’
Elian nodded.
‘What do you say?’
Elian fiddled with the locks on the cases. ‘Life is easier if you play by the rules.’ He looked up. ‘But we’ll ask him. After the holiday.’ He put the cases on the floor. ‘I’ll see if he’s done.’
Nancy carried down the two wheeled cases to the hallway. Bernie went past her with a laundry bag.
‘Is that what you brought your stuff in?’
‘Most of it. It’s easier to fling it in the roof box. Want a go?’
‘I’m OK. I’m just going to take a few photos. I meant to take loads and never got around to it. How long until the off?’
Bernie checked her watch. ‘Fifteen minutes, but if anyone else asks it’s five.’
‘I’ll be quick.’
Nancy went past the car and round the side of the house. She wanted a picture of the blue door before it disintegrated or the sun ate the last colour from it. There was a tangle of metal in front of it but that was fine. It was part of it now. She took her phone from her pocket and pressed the camera app. While she was focussing, framing it just right, the battery beeped and died. She realised that she’d been hearing beeps all morning, but not quite pinning them to her phone. She’d have no chance to charge it now. She stared at the door and fixed it in her mind. That would do.
She picked her way back to the gate. The car was surrounded.
‘Did you pack the charger, Elian?’
‘Yep.’
Bernie was ordering people into certain seats for political reasons.
‘Not next to each other. You’ll fight.’
Adrian was locking the roof box.
Nancy looked up at the house. Of course it was brilliantly sunny today. The house didn’t look worn and unloved as it did on their arrival, it looked experienced. It looked beautiful. Her throat tightened and she swallowed.
‘One minute!’
Nancy ran back upstairs and fetched the box with the shells. She gave it to Bernie.
‘Police car!’ shouted Erin, pointing. ‘Everyone act normal!’
Nancy stood next to Bernie and they watched the car drive down the road around the farm, past the far entrance.
‘Did you call them?’ whispered Nancy.
‘They may find something. Worth a go.’
Nancy looked back to the house as Donn appeared in the doorway. She wondered if he thought the police had been coming up this drive.
‘It’s a puppy!’ shouted Maeve.
‘Don’t you dare undo that seatbelt!’ shouted Bernie.
Nancy walked up to him. She felt that she should say something but had no idea what.
‘I’ll write,’ she said.
He half nodded, half shrugged.
Bernie was in the driver’s seat. The engine started.
‘Come on, Nancy, we have to go!’
She waved at Donn and climbed into the middle between Erin and Maeve. They pulled down the gravel driveway and Nancy had to look back. She never usually looked back.
Bernie pulled out onto the road.
‘Did you get your photos?’
‘No. My phone died.’
‘I took loads,’ said Maeve. ‘Here.’
She handed Nancy her DSi and helped her click to the gallery.
‘Thanks,’ said Nancy. Her throat tightened again.
‘I did too,’ said Erin, ‘but mine broke.’
‘Yes, OK, Erin,’ said Bernie. ‘No need to bring it up again.’
Nancy could hear Elian talking to Hurley in the rear two seats.
‘Wow, a ferry trip. I’ve never done this, only a little rowing boat. It’ll be fun.’ He raised his voice, ‘Will there be WiFi on the ferry?’
Bernie said, ‘There’s WiFi everywhere except the middle of nowhere.’
Elian paused. ‘Is that a yes?’
‘Who knows?’
Nancy caught Bernie’s eye in the rear view mirror.
Bernie said, ‘I have some barley twists and aniseed balls for the journey.’
‘Sounds exciting,’ said Elian, dubiously.
‘It’s a tradition,’ said Nancy, trying to keep the smile out of her voice.
July 1982
Before
I swore I would never get on another boat. No more brandy balls and aniseed twists inched out of paper bags. Each glimpse of the scratchy tartan blanket that had covered me, now folded under Mum’s arm, made me feel like retching.
I stood between Mum and Nancy, waiting to be allowed off the boat, pushing my books back into my bag where they didn’t seem to fit anymore. I could smell the sandwich crusts in the picnic bag, cups dyed by the dregs of orange squash and crisp crumbs from the picnic somewhere between Liverpool and Ireland. I heard the lorries start up in the belly of the boat.
‘I am never, ever going back on a boat,’ I announced.
‘It will be fine next time,’ Mum said. ‘It was very unusual.’ She didn’t sound that sure. She’d been sick twice and had to hold Florence while she was sick too.
‘I’ve never heard the plates flying around in the kitchens before,’ said Mum. ‘And for all the crew to be sick like that . . .’ She put her hand over her mouth.
I closed my eyes and could feel the sway skywards and seawards, could smell the sick seeping outside the stainless steel toilets. Nancy poked me. I opened them quickly and edged forwards into the space in front.
Auntie Beth picked us up from the terminal with her bump sticking out in front of her. Mum kept up the conversation past three roundabouts and onto a fast road before falling asleep. I could see Florence splayed across her in the front seat.
‘Eithne. Eithne!’ Auntie Beth tutted and stopped talking.
We drove away from the port on the good, hard ground, through the slabs of grey pebble-dashed villages under a greyer pebble-dashed sky. It was cold but I inched the window open to let the smell of food out.
Auntie Beth shouted, ‘Close that window, Bernadette!’
It hadn’t been this bad before, Mum was right, but we made this trip every year and it had never been pleasant. This holiday had been the first to get a reaction from my friends at school. Maybe it was the first time that I’d said Northern Ireland, instead of just Ireland. Maybe we were all learning what the difference was. I knew people died there, I’d seen the masked men firing guns over coffins. I didn’t think that I’d get blown up though. Drowning in the Irish Sea seemed a much more realistic possibility.
I didn’t feel so bad now, and wasn’t sleepy. I did rest my head on the suitcase on the seat between us, but it was just to look out of the window. The lights of the cars on the other side of the road swept over us and turned red as we left them behind. There were houses lit up by the road and distant points of light in the fields and hills above them. The stars were there. I couldn’t see many now with all the lights, but I knew when we got there I would see all of the stars in the universe. Not like at home, too many street lamps and house lights and car beams. Not like here where, for days, you would only see the people who lived in the same house.
Auntie Beth cleared her throat, ‘I hope youse two are going to be helping your Mammy out. You’re old enough now to not be running wild and worrying her.’
I sat up and looked at Mum. ‘I don’t worry her.’
‘All children are a worry.’ Auntie Beth looked at me in the rear view mirror. ‘Some more than others.’
I looked at Nancy. She moved her head from side to side and twisted her finger around. The laugh burst into my throat. I tried to turn it into a cough.
‘You’ll wake your ma!’
‘Sorry,’ I managed to say, and rested my head again.
The car turned gently, and then more sharply. The lights became occasional and shockingly bright. I waited until I saw the sign for the bar, lifted my head to see the phone box, and put my nose to the window.
Our road. Our home from home. Down the dip and up the rise, right and bumping over the cow grill, then Bruce jumping up at the window and barking. He weaved in front of the car and I held my breath, but there he was on the other side, safe. Mum was awake now, yawning and sitting Florence upright.
Auntie Beth pulled up on the left in front of the light blasted windows and we tumbled out of the car, fighting over Bruce. He remembered me best because I stroked him and fed him Sugar Puffs. Dogs don’t forget things like that. I walked up the steps, but he nudged at my hand again and again. I didn’t forget you either, I thought. I kissed his greasy furry head.
‘Come and help with the cases, girls,’ said Auntie Beth, holding only her own stomach.
I rubbed my face against Bruce’s neck and took a bag inside.
‘Auntie Agatha has a quick sandwich for you before bed.’ Auntie Beth guarded the outside door. ‘In you go.’
In the kitchen Sister Agatha and Uncle Donn were sitting in the armchairs by the fire. They looked towards the open door as if they weren’t particularly glad to see me. Then Donn smiled and Sister Agatha went to wet the tea. On the way she firmly closed the door to Cassie’s room and turned the key in the lock.
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The Insect Rosary Page 25
