‘Yeah, but never outside school. I’ve never been there to compete. The first time we were skiing in Verbier, and the second time I had laryngitis.’ I winked. ‘My mum’s friend’s husband is a doctor so he used to give notes whenever. I think he fancied my mum. You wouldn’t catch me dead at one of those competitions, though apparently our school is actually really good at the choir competitions. We won the All-Ireland under somethings, twice.’

‘Oh, what kinds of things do you sing. “Nessun Dorma” was always my favourite.’

‘Who’s that by?’

‘“Nessun Dorma?”‘ She looked at me, shocked. ‘Well it’s one of the finest tenor arias from the final act of Puccini’s opera Turandot.’ She closed her eyes, hummed a bit and swayed. ‘Oh, I love it. Famously sang by Pavarotti, of course.’

‘Oh, yeah, he’s the big dude who sang with Bono. I always thought he was a celebrity chef, for some reason, until I saw him on the news the day of his funeral. I must have been confusing him with someone else-you know, the guy who makes pizzas with weird toppings, on The Food Channel. Chocolate and stuff? I asked Mae to make me one once but it totally made me retch. No, we didn’t sing anything like his songs. We sang “Shut Up and Let Me Go” by the Ting Tings. But it sounded completely different with all the harmonies, really serious, like one of those operas.’

‘The Food Channel, now I don’t have that at all.’

‘I know it’s a part of the satellite stations. Neither do Rosaleen and Arthur. You probably wouldn’t like it, but there is The God Channel. There’s probably stuff on that you’d like. They just talk about God all day.’

Sister Ignatius smiled at me again, wrapped her arm around my shoulders, squeezed me close to her and we walked like that towards the garden.

‘Now let’s get down to bizzz-ness,’ she said as we reached the hives. ‘So, very important. First question, and I probably should have asked you this earlier, are you allergic to bees?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘Have you ever been stung by a bee?’

‘No.’

‘Hmm. Okay. Well, irrespective of all the protective measures, you may receive the occasional sting. Oh, don’t look at me like that, Tamara. Okay then, off you go to Rosaleen. I’m sure she’s got the lovely hind legs of a cow for you to snack on while you wait for your dinner.’

I was silent.

‘You will not die from this sting,’ she continued. ‘Unless you’re allergic, of course, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take. I’m brave like that.’ Her eyes twinkled mischievously again. ‘There’ll be a slight swelling in the affected area, later followed by some itching.’

‘Like a mosquito.’

‘Exactly. Now this is a smoker. I’m going to blow smoke into the hive before inspecting it.’

Smoke began to exit through the nozzle. I was already feeling a little funny as everything I read from the diary early that morning was coming true, playing out before me like a script. She held the nozzle under the hive.

‘If a beehive is threatened, guard bees will release a volatile pheromone substance called isopentyl acetate, known as an alarm odour. This alerts the middle-aged bees in the hive, which are the ones with the most venom, to defend the hive by attacking the intruder. However, when smoke is blown in first, the guard bees instinctively gorge themselves on honey, a survival instinct in case they must vacate the hive and recreate it elsewhere. This gorging pacifies the bees.’

I watched the smoke drift into their home. Then suddenly I thought about the panic. A wave of dizziness came over me. I reached out to hold on to the wall.

‘I’m going to extract the honey next week. That suit is yours if you want to join me. It’ll be nice to have a bit of company. The sisters aren’t interested in beekeeping. I like to be alone sometimes but, you know, it’s nice to have company once in a while.’

My head swirled as I imagined the smoke in the hive, the bees gorging themselves on food, the sheer and utter panic of it all. I wanted to snap at her and tell her to stop talking, that I had no interest in extracting honey with her, but I heard the tone in her voice, the excitement, the delight over company, and I remembered the wish I’d made in my diary about wanting to take back my response. I held my tongue and nodded, feeling faint. All that smoke.

‘Or at least it’s nice to have somebody there who pretends they’re enjoying it. I’m old. I don’t care much any more. But that’s great that you’ve volunteered. I think Wednesday will be a good day to do it. I’ll have to check the weather forecast and make sure it’s a good day. Don’t want us getting soaked again like today…’ On and on she went until I felt her staring at me. She couldn’t see my face nor I hers underneath the netting of our headgear.

‘What’s wrong dear?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Nothing is ever nothing. It’s always something. Is the diary worrying you?’

‘Well, yeah, of course. That is…but it’s not that. It’s nothing.’

We were silent for a while and then as if to prove her point, I asked, ‘Was there anyone in the castle when it went on fire?’

She paused before answering, ‘Yes, unfortunately there was.’

‘Just watching that…that smoke going in. I can imagine the panic and the people being so afraid.’ I held on to the wall again.

Sister Ignatius looked at me with concern.

‘Did anyone die?’

‘Yes. Yes, indeed. Tamara, when the fire ravaged that home, it ravaged so many people’s lives, you have no idea.’

That home. Home. It made it all the more mysterious that a building such as that could be called such a thing. It had meant something to people once upon a time, whoever they were.

‘Where do they live now? The people who survived.’

‘You know, Tamara, Rosaleen and Arthur have been here for so much longer than I-you should really ask them that. Ask me a question and I’ll never lie, you understand? But this one you should ask them. Won’t you?’

I shrugged.

‘Do you understand me?’ She reached out and gripped my forearm. I felt her strength through my gauntlet. ‘I’ll never lie.’

‘Yes, yes, I understand.’

‘You’ll ask them, won’t you?’

I shrugged. ‘Whatever.’

‘Whatever, whatever, the language of sloths. Now, I’m going to lift this off, and I’ll show you the inhabitants of the honeycomb empire.’

‘Whoa. How did you get them all in there?’

‘Ah that was the easy part. Like all of us, Tamara, a swarm is always actively looking for a home. Now, do you know how I’m going to show you the queen bee?’

‘You’re going to draw on it with a marker.’

‘However did you know that?’

‘Apparently I wrote it in my diary when I was sleepwalking. Lucky guess, huh?’

‘Hmm.’

When I got back to the house, it was late. I’d spent the entire day out. Arthur was returning from work too, walking down the road in his lumberjack shirt. I stopped and waited for him.

‘Hi Arthur.’

He threw his head back at me.

‘Good day?’

‘Ah.’

‘Good. Arthur, could I have a word with you before we go inside, please?’

He stopped. ‘Is everything all right?’ Concern that I hadn’t seen before crossed his face.

‘Yes. Well, no. It’s about Mum-’

‘Well, there you are,’ Rosaleen called from the front door. ‘You both must be starved. I’ve the dinner just out of the oven, piping hot and ready to go.’

I looked at Arthur, and he looked back at Rosaleen. There was an awkward moment as Rosaleen refused to leave us. Arthur gave in and walked up the garden path and into the house. Rosaleen stepped aside for him to enter and then back to where she was to look at me, then went inside to see to the dinner. Once we were all seated at the table Rosaleen prepared Mum’s food ready on a tray to bring upstairs. I took a deep breath.

‘Shouldn’t we try and get Mum to eat downstairs with us?’

There was a silence. Arthur looked at Rosaleen.