‘Thanks so much, Mère.’ Keelin hung up the phone. Her aunt’s concerns about Armand leaving the priesthood for her had shaken her to her core. Brigid had been on the Missions for years. She knew what went on. She was far more of a realist than Keelin had ever been. With trembling fingers she dialled the international code for home and followed it with the telephone number she knew so well.

Keelin felt a knot of apprehension. She hoped her father might be home from work to take the call. She longed to hear his comforting, reassuring voice and feel his arms around her. Then she needed to find a way to contact Armand.

She had to know what his intentions were towards her and their child. Everything had happened so quickly since her confrontation with Germaine.

Keelin’s heart sank when she heard her mother’s ‘Hello’.

‘Hi, Mam, it’s me.’ She didn’t even bother to put on a cheery façade.

‘Keelin! My goodness, I wasn’t expecting a phone call from Africa. How are you? Is something up? You wouldn’t be ringing home otherwise,’ Imelda asked immediately.

No flies on her mother, Keelin thought ruefully. ‘Actually, I’m not phoning from the Ivory Coast, I’m in Paris.’

‘Paris! What on earth are you doing there? You’re not sick or anything, are you?’ Her mother, picking up on the despondency in Keelin’s tone, was instantly alert.

‘I’m pregnant and I’m coming home tomorrow. I was wondering if you’d collect me from the airport?’ Keelin said, figuring it might be good for her mother to have twenty-four hours’ notice so that she could be over the shock before they met face to face.

‘What!’

‘I’m pregnant,’ Keelin repeated dully.

‘Was it your own doing?’

‘Yes!’ Keelin sighed, imagining Imelda with pursed lips and narrowed eyes standing in the hall at home.

‘I knew nothing good would come from you entering the convent. I said it. I said it would end in tears and no one would listen to me,’ Imelda ranted. ‘You won’t be coming home here in that state. I’m telling you that straight away. Pregnant! And you a nun! How could you, Keelin? Have I not got enough to put up with, without this? I won’t have disgrace brought on the good name of the family. I’m not going to be standing in the shop having the gossips in the town talking about you. Absolutely not. You go to your aunt and let her look after you. It’s all her fault that you went traipsing off to Africa. Let her deal with it, Keelin, because I’m not having anything to do with it.’ Imelda slammed down the phone, leaving Keelin staring at the handset, tears sliding down her cheeks.

*