‘Quite,’ snapped the Reverend Mother, who did not appreciate being chastised about her lack of mercy and charity in front of that young upstart of a priest, whom she suspected knew more about Soeur Michael’s condition than he was letting on. Was he the father? They were always chatting and laughing together and singing with the folk group they had set up. Who else could it be? She’d racked her brains, even wondering if it were Ismael, who had a great teasing way with the younger nuns.

‘I was gifted with half a dozen Nile perches up country, if you would like some, Reverend Mother . . . ?’ Armand busied himself pouring milk into his tea.

‘I’ll send the cook up to you; you can discuss it with him. I have to go and see what arrangements I can make to replace Soeur Michael. I now have a class with no teacher and you’ll need to find someone else to play the guitar for your folk group. She’s left them in the lurch too,’ Reverend Mother said frostily, glaring at Armand. He knew she was hoping for a reaction but resisted the urge to speak in Keelin’s defence.

‘God will provide,’ Monsignor Kelly said mildly. ‘Drink up, Father Durand, we have work to do ourselves.’

‘Yes, a she-devil of the highest order, that Germaine,’ Monsignor Kelly said irritably as he climbed into the jeep beside Armand. ‘She’s very old school. Sister Celsus, who plays the piano so beautifully, would be the ideal replacement for Germaine. She’s from the Ivory Coast, did you know that?’

‘I did not,’ Armand said miserably, gunning the engine and scorching down the drive to swing out onto the Boulevard Houphouët-Boigny.

‘Easy there, I’d like to get to Quartier de la Corniche alive!’

‘Pardon,’ Armand apologised glumly, slowing down.

‘So my boy, your Irish lass has been sent back to France in disgrace. But at least she will be looked after. I want you to seriously think about whether you want to be laicized. It’s a big step to turn your back on Holy Orders, and I don’t want you to be regretting it in ten years’ time.’ Monsignor Kelly fished a packet of mints out of his cassock pocket and offered his companion one.

‘Merci, non. I won’t regret it. There’s no peace of mind for me as it is, and that was the case even before I met Keelin. It shouldn’t be such a struggle.’ Armand overtook a ramshackle lorry, carrying a load of timber. ‘It’s time to go.’

The old priest sighed. ‘All right so. I’ll ring the bishop and tell him to start your laicization. Keep your powder dry, Armand. Germaine’s in the dark.’ Monsignor Kelly advised sagely. ‘And let’s keep her that way. The less she knows, the better for all of us,’ he added, with a wry smile.