Imelda stayed in her granddaughter’s embrace. She’d missed the hugs so much.

‘We’ll see,’ she murmured. ‘I’m glad you called and I’m sorry I was curt with you when you texted me. And I’m sorry about what I said about your father, and for . . . er . . . well bringing up his past.’

‘I won’t deny it was a shock, and we were all hurt by your behaviour, Granny. Come to Scotland with us and let’s put the past behind us there.’ Marie-Claire couldn’t hold on to the grudge. It wasn’t her way.

Imelda followed them to the hall, and impulsively reached out and took Brigid’s hand and gave it a brief squeeze before letting go. ‘Safe journey,’ she said awkwardly.

‘Thank you, Imelda,’ her sister responded. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

She watched the car disappear from view, emotions churning inside her. ‘Let’s put the past behind us,’ Marie-Claire had urged. But it was Keelin she really needed to hear these words from.

If only it was that easy, Imelda thought sadly as the tears that she’d struggled to contain when she watched them drive away flooded her eyes and slid down her cheeks.

She felt a movement against her ankle and looked down to see the cat rubbing his furry black head against her.

‘Come in and I’ll feed you, mister,’ she gulped, wiping her eyes, grateful for the little cat’s affection. ‘I wish you could talk, Sooty, I wish you could tell me what to do,’ she said, pouring his kitty treats into his bowl. ‘Because right this minute I don’t know if I’m on my head or my heels with the surprise of it all. If Keelin knew what I’ve lived with all these years, she might not be so bitter towards me. But do I tell her, little kitty cat? Do I tell her?’

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

‘I can drive, if you’d like,’ Brigid offered. She was sitting in Imelda’s kitchen drinking tea and eating a delicious slice of homemade apple tart. She’d driven up from Limerick to meet with her sister before they drove to Dublin.

‘Not at all, you had the drive from Limerick. Sure, it’s a doddle driving to Dublin now, once you get on the motorway,’ Imelda said briskly, wiping pastry crumbs off the kitchen counter. ‘And besides, I know exactly where the hotel is and how to get there.’

‘Do you go up much?’ Brigid asked, wondering how she would cope with being Imelda’s passenger. Brigid liked driving and liked being in control. Just like Imelda did, she realized with a start. In some ways they were quite similar.