‘Oh! We’re here at the wooden steps,’ Keelin exclaimed. ‘We walked back across the beach. Marie-Claire came to the hotel this morning. She’s not long gone up to put the kettle on. I wanted to give you a call to sort things out,’ Keelin explained.

‘Is she OK?’

‘She’s fine. We had a bit of a standoff and then we got over it and started to laugh. You know her, she never holds a grudge,’ Keelin said lightly.

‘Good! I hate when we’re fighting. Look I’ll be with you in a couple of minutes,’ he said. ‘Put my name in the pot.’

*

Walking briskly to get to the Four Winds, Armand saw a sprightly figure marching along ahead of him. It must be one of the nuns. He’d been introduced to quite a few of Brigid’s Order the previous evening – thank God he didn’t have to remember all their names; a ‘Good morning, Sister,’ would do, he told himself as he came abreast of the nun who was walking at a fast clip.

‘Morning, Sister . . . Good heavens! Mère! It’s you!’ he exclaimed. Brigid stopped walking and gave him a self-deprecating smile.

‘It is me, Armand. The new me.’ Her silvery grey hair was styled in a soft feathery cut that emphasized her creamy skin and luminous blue eyes.

‘You look beautiful, and if I may say, years younger.’ Armand hugged the woman who had been one of his greatest benefactresses.

‘I like it,’ Brigid declared stoutly. ‘Although my ears are cold – I should have brought a woolly hat. Are you all right, Armand? Are Keelin and Marie-Claire all right? Imelda certainly knows how to end a party in double-quick time.’ She threw her eyes up to heaven.

‘I know,’ Armand sighed, falling into step beside her. ‘Keelin’s upset, we’re all very upset for you too.’

‘What a strange night it was. There must be a Divine purpose to it, though what it is I have no idea,’ Brigid sighed.

‘Perhaps it was so you could get a stylish hairdo,’ Armand teased, opening the red swing gate for her.

‘Well now, I never thought of that,’ Brigid laughed, and they were still laughing when they walked into the kitchen.

‘Mère! It’s gorgeous!’ cried Keelin.

‘Well, she did a great job on you!’ Una added.

‘Helen Mirren, eat your heart out!’ Marie-Claire grinned with a flourish.

‘Helen Mirren – I’ll take that,’ Brigid said, a tad abashed by their compliments. ‘I was just saying to Armand, it’s the new me.’

‘Mère, Maman and I have come up with a brilliant idea: you must come to Le Quatre Vents with me when I fly over to join her and Papa for a holiday. You’re retired now. You can do as you please. What do you think?’ Marie-Claire gazed at her expectantly.