Something about humility, certainly. Last night had brought her as low as it was possible to be in her position as Reverend Mother. But it had also brought freedom. Her secret was out, no longer to be carried like a yoke on her shoulders. She was freer than she’d been the last sixty-four years. And that in itself was another gift from God. A gift she was going to enjoy every second of, Brigid resolved, switching out the light and climbing into bed and snuggling down under the duvet, drawing it up under her chin.

The red lamp under the picture of the Sacred Heart glowed comfortingly and Jesus’s kind smile seemed to assure her that all would be well.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

For the umpteenth time, Imelda glanced at her mobile phone. She was a tad vexed, to say the least. Not one message from anyone to see if she was alive or dead.

She glanced at her phone again, wondering should she text Felicity to see if she was home. It wasn’t her Sunday to have lunch with them; perhaps her daughter-in-law might think she was looking for an invite. No, better not to text.

She had Sunday lunch with her son and daughter-in-law on the first Sunday of every month and would always text Cormac if she was dropping in for an unplanned visit. Instead of hastening to assure her that she didn’t need to go to the trouble of texting, the first time she’d done so, he’d told her it was a great way of seeing what suited everyone. ‘Setting boundaries’ was the term now used, seemingly. Imelda had read it in a magazine article at the hairdresser’s and it had stuck in her head.

They might not be so smart about their boundaries if she told then she was leaving all her money to charity – particularly those charities who cared for elderly people living alone – Imelda had sniffed, spending a thoroughly enjoyable half-hour under the hairdryer imagining the reaction when her will was read out to the family.

The whole lot of them were now giving her the cold shoulder, Imelda thought bitterly, wondering could she send a text to them all to say FYI – she liked that very much, sharp and businesslike – I will be updating my will next week, and, as previously, the updated document will be with Fitzpatrick’s Solicitors, in the event of anything untoward happening to me.

That might give them all a hop and let them see she wasn’t to be trifled with. Larry had left her very comfortable. They’d all be getting a fine lump sum when she was gone, if she didn’t change her will.