‘You were ashamed, and I had to live with that shame,’ Armand accused, his lean face tight with anger. ‘I wanted the truth to be told so that we could begin our lives with a clean slate. No more secrets, no more lies. But you wouldn’t listen to me. And this is the result. I hope you’re satisfied, Keelin and I promise you one thing: I will not set foot in la maison . . . de . . . de cette femme horrible! Jamais. I’ve spoken to your mother for the last time. I will never darken her door again.’ Armand was so upset he strode out of the room, banging the door behind him.

Keelin burst into tears. She and Armand rarely quarrelled, and he’d never shown such naked anger towards her. Who would ever have thought their past would come back to haunt them like this? And in such a horrible, public manner.

She’d hidden the truth of Armand’s past very well, and hidden it from herself too, over the years. Her husband had never wanted to deny his past, once they left their religious orders. Denial would cast a shadow on their marriage, he’d argued, set it apart from others. He’d always felt it was their daughter’s right to know their history, but nevertheless he’d gone along with it when she’d asked him not to tell people that he was an ex-priest. All Marie-Claire knew was that her mother had entered a convent, then left before taking her final vows – which was not a lie. She thought it was only then that her parents had met and fallen in love – which wasn’t quite a lie, surely, more a sin of omission. Keelin wanted Marie-Claire to grow up carrying no religious baggage of guilt or shame. Back then, Ireland had still been very much under the dictatorial rule of Rome and the bishops, forcing Keelin to hide her pregnancy in the Four Winds while she waited to give birth.

‘You could have told me when I was older, Maman! I wasn’t brought up to adhere to the rules of Catholicism. You never wanted that for me. So why would I consider it to be a big deal that my dad was once a Catholic priest? I would have considered it a badge of honour that he left the Church. He’s right. You’re still ashamed of your past and his. How can you run courses on healing, and clearing the past, when you can’t even heal your own? You need to do some work on yourself, Maman,’ Marie-Claire fumed.

‘That’s typical of you. You always take up for your father,’ Keelin snapped, stung by her daughter’s accusations.

‘Do you know who you sound like now?’ Marie-Claire demanded. ‘You sound just like Granny,’ she retorted, walking out of the room in disgust.