‘So what’s going on with you and your chap? Something’s up, isn’t it?’ Brigid cast a knowing look at Marie-Claire. She was sitting propped against the pillows of her hotel bed, in the room that they were sharing, watching Marie-Claire cleanse, tone and moisturize.

Marie-Claire met her great-aunt’s keen gaze in the mirror opposite the bed, where she was seated surrounded by beauty products.

‘Why do you think that?’ Marie-Claire paused her cleansing ritual, wondering why she was surprised at the question. Mère knew her so well, and it was almost impossible to pull the wool over her eyes.

‘Your eyes are sad. Your joie de vivre is gone. You’re making a big effort to appear normal – and doing a good job, if I may say so – but you haven’t spoken about him like you always do. And the length of your stay is surprisingly long, and you’ve not mentioned the trip to New York that you’d been telling me about,’ Brigid said, looking out at her over the top of her glasses.

Marie-Claire turned to face her great-aunt. ‘You always were good at sussing me out. Hercule Poirot would be proud of you, Mère.’ She managed a smile.

‘What happened, alannah?’ Brigid’s tone was full of love and sympathy.

The old, familiar Irish endearment caught Marie-Claire off guard and tears brimmed in her eyes.

‘He cheated on me.’ Her voice shook.

‘Well then perhaps he’s not worthy of you. Better to find that out now than later,’ Brigid pointed out.

‘But it hurts so badly. I feel I’ve wasted those years with him. Now I have to start all over in a relationship, if I ever find someone, and I’ve to get another job, too.’ Marie-Claire burst into tears.

Brigid threw back the duvet and got out of bed with a sprightliness that belied her eighty years. She put her arms around her beloved great-niece’s shoulders and Marie-Claire cuddled into her embrace.

‘I could tell you there are other fish in the sea. I could tell you there’s a whole fresh start awaiting you, a new chapter in your life. But you don’t want to hear these clichés now. The wound is too raw and you think it will never heal. It will. I promise you. All I can say that might bring you some comfort is that this too shall pass, and it’s all right to grieve what you perceive as your loss, but time will change your perception of it. And you know it’s always possible to forgive, when the hurt has lessened. If you feel you could forgive this young man in time, do it. Forgiveness can be a very powerful gift for both of you. It could even strengthen your bond immeasurably,’ Brigid counselled. She gave Marie-Claire a comforting squeeze. ‘I’m eighty, remember? I’m supposed to be wise,’ she added lightly.