Unable to sleep that night because of the turmoil she felt, Keelin put on her swimsuit and wrapped a towel around her and slipped down to the beach below them. It was dark but a million stars sparkled in the sky and a small sliver of moon threw rays of silver onto the shimmering sea. In the cove where the nuns bathed privately, Keelin padded barefoot over the sand to the sea and felt the waters embrace her – warm, soothing, ethereally welcoming. She floated on her back, looking at the stars, and felt at one with God and nature. If only she could always feel this peaceful, she reflected, but she knew that she could no longer carry on her life as a nun.

Her mother would be horrified now. Imelda hadn’t wanted her to enter a convent, but she was now quite happy to boast about ‘my daughter the nun’. Her father only wanted Keelin’s happiness; he would support her whatever she decided. The least surprised person, Keelin felt, would be Brigid. Her aunt had tried to stop her from entering, knowing her niece and knowing the pitfalls ahead.

She would stay until after Christmas, and tell her Mother Superior on the first of January that she was leaving the Order, Keelin decided.

Relieved that she’d finally made her decision, Keelin swam in the star-lit sea for a while longer, knowing that she should make the most of such delightful pleasures for her final months on the Ivory Coast.

*

A month later, Father Durand was again hearing confessions. Keelin’s heart thumped. They had become very friendly, making the most of their snatched conversations at the folk group rehearsals, discussing their doubts and reservations about the religious life and the inconsistencies of the religion they both practised.

Armand drew back the curtain in the little window between him and Keelin. She immediately dispensed with the formalities and blurted, ‘I’ve made my decision, Armand. I’m leaving after Christmas.’

‘Keelin, you’re so brave,’ he whispered back. ‘I wish I had your courage.’

‘I can’t do it anymore. I can’t live a lie. It all makes me so unhappy,’ she confided.

‘I wish I could talk to you properly, unafraid that Germaine will chastise you. It’s so frustrating.’

A brainwave struck Keelin. ‘I often go swimming in the cove at night. It’s beautiful. Why don’t we meet there tonight soon after lights out at ten? We can talk about everything.’

‘It would be a great cause for scandal if we were caught,’ he said doubtfully.

‘Well, I’d better get out of here or we’ll be the subject of scandal in the confessional too,’ she said crossly. ‘I’m going swimming tonight, if you’re there you’re there, if you’re not, you’re not. Adieu, Armand,’ she said, not even bothering to make a confession.