She sat on the small wooden bench on top of the bank overlooking the ocean, one of her favourite places in the world. White clouds scudded across the sky and far on the horizon a dark grey line hinted at the rain to come as a weather front made its inexorable progress toward the coast. Much as she’d love to take a walk along the strand, it was time to say goodbye, for a while, to her beloved Four Winds, standing robust and resolute atop the cliff, no matter what the weather. ‘Slán agus beannacht,’ she said in her native language. ‘Until I see you again, God willing.’

*

‘I’ll miss you. It’s been great having you all to stay, even if the party didn’t quite go to plan,’ Una remarked as she and Keelin finished changing the last bed and were folding sheets to add to the pile on the landing.

‘I didn’t think Armand and I would be staying as long as we did,’ Keelin said ruefully. ‘Thanks for taking us in when we had to leave the hotel.’

‘Not a bother,’ Una straightened the duvet on the single bed, now ready for whatever nun might arrive for a few days’ respite in the holiday home.

‘The Four Winds has always been a haven for me. I love it and you dearly.’

‘And everyone here loves you, Keelin,’ her old friend assured her. ‘Any word from Imelda?’

‘No!’ said Keelin grimly, walking out to the landing to gather the dirty linen to bring to the small laundry room downstairs. ‘Felicity has been popping in and out. She says she’s subdued.’

‘A rare description of Imelda,’ Una observed, following her down the stairs with her arms full.

‘Yeah well, apparently she’s not subdued enough to apologize. I swear to God, Una, this time I’m not giving in. She can get lost. She’s got away with offensive behaviour before, but this was beyond the beyond.’

‘So you won’t be taking a detour to Glencarraig?’

‘Absolutely not! My mother needs to learn that there are consequences when she behaves the way she does. And I’m not enabling her bad behaviour anymore. I’m fed up with her treating me like shite.’ Keelin glowered, shoving sheets into the washing machine and adding a washing tablet.

‘It will all settle down eventually,’ Una soothed, pouring in the conditioner and switching on the machine.

‘You know something, Una, right now I don’t care whether it does or not. I know it’s a horrible thing to say, but I don’t like my mother – and I never have.’

‘Ah don’t say that, Keelin,’ Una murmured in dismay.

‘It’s true,’ Keelin said miserably. ‘But you know, that’s OK. To paraphrase Florence-Scovel-Shinn: “No man is my friend. No man is my enemy. Every man is my teacher.” So I suppose we’re teaching each other lessons of some sort or another.’

*