She took Brigid’s hand. ‘You’re a young, intelligent woman – get out before it’s too late,’ she said earnestly. ‘We’ve all been duped, lied to, used to fill the coffers of the Vatican. Read, read, read. Never was there a truer saying than the one attributed to Pope Leo the tenth: “The myth of Christ has served us well.” Because the Church’s version of Christianity is a myth,’ she added bitterly. ‘And I try my best to subvert the Church in my own little way, from the inside.’

‘Oh!’ murmured Brigid, unsure how to respond. Sister Martha, though frail, was in full command of her faculties. Brigid had been lucky. Apart from being robbed, several times – and that had been frightening enough – she’d never suffered violence.

‘If I could, though, I would liberate a young woman like yourself from unwittingly spreading this false religion, and from wasting your life, a life that should be lived in freedom. Were I to accomplish that, I’d feel I’d done the work of Our Lord.’ Sister Martha’s vivid blue eyes shone with sincerity as she stared at Brigid.

‘How interesting. Sister Martha,’ Brigid said quietly, ‘I will reflect on your advice and thank you for it.’

‘One thing I’m glad about is that I lived long enough to find my own truth. I hope you do the same,’ Sister Martha confided as the engines came to life and the aircraft began to race down the runway.

Over the weeks that followed, Brigid felt extremely unsettled. She’d the strangest feeling that Sister Martha had been sent to her, to make her think about the life she was living.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The small convent along the coast from the busy port of San-Pédro was nestled in a well-kept compound between the main road and the beach. Keelin loved it. The Reverend Mother was the only French nun in the convent, in charge of a small community of twenty nuns.

The single-storey house was built around a courtyard. All the bedrooms led onto the verandas that surrounded the convent. The sound of the sea was music to her ears. The beach was a two-minute walk away. There was a much more easy-going air, which soothed her frazzled spirit and gave her some respite from her doubts about her future in the Order. She was the only novice and Mère Germaine, who was unimpressed with reforms and expected her nuns to dress appropriately in their habits, set aside two hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays, after school was over, for Keelin to spend time on her spiritual studies.

How ironic it was she who was now feeling the sense of freedom to do the work she wanted to do, as Brigid once had, and her aunt had been sent home. She’d been shocked to hear of Brigid’s return to Ireland and wondered if she would ever adapt to life there after her time in Africa.