She could see lights under doors. The occupants, like her, were getting ready to attend Lauds in the small oratory downstairs. Her lip trembled and she bit it in an effort not to cry. Be composed, she told herself sternly. This too will pass.

A door to her right flew open, and she knew without looking that it was Marie-Hélène. There was nothing calm and serene about the younger nun. She’d always been a whirlwind of action.

‘Ah, mornin’, RM. I hope you slept well in spite of everything. Are you doing OK?’ Marie-Hélène dropped a comforting arm around her shoulder.

Brigid’s face crumpled at her colleague’s kindness.

‘Come in here.’ Marie-Hélène led the way into her bedroom, which looked like a bomb had hit it. Fortunately, Veronique, who had slept in the other bed, which was made perfectly and untroubled by cases, clothes and other personal belongings, had already gone downstairs.

‘Oh dear, this is dreadful. I need to be composed,’ Brigid said in a voice that shook, as tears slid silently down her cheeks.

‘No you don’t, Brigid,’ Marie-Hélène said firmly, handing her a tissue. ‘Now you listen to me. You have been an outstanding nun. You have given of yourself selflessly. The past – and it’s the far distant past, I hasten to remind you – should not be allowed to diminish one iota of all the stupendous good you’ve done with your life. And it certainly should not be allowed to ruin your future.’

Brigid smiled through her tears. ‘Marie-Hélène, you’re such a beacon of positivity. It’s something I hugely admire about you, but all I feel now is shame, emptiness and utter mortification.’

‘The shame isn’t yours, it’s Imelda’s. Her behaviour was totally unacceptable. Remember the time I was hauled up before the Mother General and the congregation for getting pissed the night we celebrated getting the Papal award? Dr Onondaga produced a bottle of gin, and boy did we give it socks!’ She grinned at the memory. ‘And when Mother Perpetua berated me – and let me tell you I had the mother and father of a hangover – and said I wasn’t fit to be a nun, I told her, “Let he or she who is without sin cast the first stone.” ’

Brigid laughed. ‘Marie-Hélène, you always were incorrigible. I well remember the stunned silence and then the titters.’

Marie-Hélène chuckled. ‘First time ever, Perpetua was stuck for words. She was incandescent. But that’s my motto. If it was good enough for Jesus, it’s certainly good enough for you and me. Now, come downstairs with me and hold your head high, RM. Let’s go.’

‘Thank you, dearest Marie-Hélène,’ Brigid said humbly, greatly moved by her friend’s support.