The Insect Rosary by Sarah Armstrong

fluttered but stayed open. If he died, if he died – then what? She would never go back to Michigan, that was for sure, and would never see Elian again either. And that thought didn’t bother her one bit. She hid it and focused on the road. At least it wasn’t raining.
    Drive on the left.
    Â 
    The farm was lit upstairs and down when they returned. Donn and Agatha would never have as many bulbs burning at once.
    Bernadette.
    Elian had got Hurley through the front door and still she couldn’t force her hands from their grip on the steering wheel. It was only the thought of Bernadette coming out and being trapped in the car with her that did it. She forced herself to leave the car and climb the steps to the door. Inside the house there were two girls and a man she half-recognised from photos, and Bernadette.
    â€˜Bit of a day,’ said Bernadette, and grimaced.
    â€˜Yes,’ said Nancy. She’d planned to say lots of things, nice things, about how nice it was to finally be together, planning trips and food, and now that ‘yes’ had exhausted everything she wanted to say to her.
    Bernadette said, ‘I’ll make some tea.’
    I was going to do that, thought Nancy. She bit her lip and nodded. Her nieces sat side by side on the sofa. Hurley tried to take up a place on the rug in front of the fire, but Elian slid him into place next to the oldest girl. She shifted away from him. He laid his head back on the creamy antimacassar and closed his eyes. She nudged her sister to move up, which she did, and then she moved away some more. For all that they reminded Nancy of her and Bernadette, she wanted to smack them both and send them to bed. Horrible prissy little girls. She couldn’t even remember their names. She and Bern weren’t ever like them. Those girls who shifted away from Hurley like he was a bad smell had no spark in their eyes at all. Their father was speaking softly to Elian, next to the piano. Nancy couldn’t hear what they were saying but she understood the gestures. She looked at Hurley, eyes still closed.
    â€˜Where’s Donn?’ she asked, her voice croaky.
    Elian said, ‘He’s just popped out.’ He made a stopping motion with his hand so she didn’t ask anything else. That’s when she knew that he taken the dog out to shoot it. ‘Agatha’s in bed.’
    She wanted to go home. She just wasn’t sure where she wanted that to be right now.
    Bernadette came in with a tray. The teapot had been cleaned. She set it down on the dining table and sorted out the cups and handed glasses of juice to the three children. Nancy imagined how much sugar was in it, but said nothing. Hurley opened his eyes to take his and closed them again, but held onto the glass.
    â€˜Did you have a good journey?’ asked Elian.
    Bernadette laughed. ‘I don’t think you can ever have a good journey when it involves the Irish Sea. It was almost worth it, just so we didn’t have to hire a car. I always worry about the excesses and all that nonsense. And you never know what the children are up to in the back.’
    Nancy looked at Bernie’s daughters. She could tell exactly what they’d be up to. Pinching, sniping and moaning. She tried to raise herself into the conversation.
    â€˜Yes,’ said Nancy, ‘a car is useful. We could all go over to Portstewart one day, maybe. Go to Morelli’s and the Giant’s Causeway.’
    â€˜Maybe,’ said Bernadette. She didn’t look at Nancy. ‘We have lots of plans too.’
    Nancy smiled. She was going to be friends with Bernadette by the end of their holiday. Maybe for now they could just get on like people who used to know each other well, and that would be enough.
    â€˜So, what’s the view on his leg?’ asked Bernadette.
    â€˜It looked really bad, but they’re not too worried. Largely cosmetic, he’ll be fine. He’ll need a check