Brigid laughed. ‘OK. And just so you know, the Church has got all it’s getting from me.’

Imelda smiled, in good form again, and exceedingly pleased that Brigid had admitted that she’d had a hard time looking after their parents. At last! Even if it was years late in coming. How she wished the others had been around to hear it, so they too could acknowledge her great sacrifice. The urge to wee overtook Imelda’s desire to bask in her self-righteous gratification.

‘Come on,’ she urged, ‘let’s check in and give comfort and ease to our ancient bladders.’

*

‘I think that’s it.’ Keelin fastened the straps at the top of her case and zipped it closed.

‘Have you got your tickets, passport, glasses, and sterling?’ Armand asked, hauling it off their bed.

‘I do.’ Keelin glanced into her handbag to check her travel wallet was safely packed, even though she’d only put it into her bag twenty minutes previously. Armand always double- and treble-checked everything when they were travelling.

‘Now, have a fantastic time. Let the past go—’

‘I’ll do my best, Armand,’ Keelin said hotly, ‘but you know what Mam’s like!’

‘I do,’ her husband said, enfolding her in a hug. ‘But remember, she’s old—’

‘Yeah, old and mean-spirited.’ Keelin snuggled in against him.

‘If you were holding a session and someone spoke about difficulties with a parent, one of the first things you’d say is, “What are they teaching you?” So, what’s your mother teaching you?’

‘Ha ha! Hoist by my own petard . . . again! She’s holding up a mirror and showing me that I’m a mean-spirited, unforgiving woman.’ Keelin grimaced.

‘Try and be gentle with each other, chérie. The middle way is the best.’

‘Yes, Armand,’ Keelin said affectionately, drawing his head down to hers to kiss him long and tenderly. ‘I’ll miss you!’

‘We’ll FaceTime. I’ll be looking forward to hearing about your travels. Take plenty of photos. This is going to be such a special trip, Keelin, in every way.’ Armand gave her one last hug before they went downstairs to lock up and leave for the airport.

Later that afternoon, as the plane soared into the cotton wool clouds, Keelin wished she could sit back and enjoy the flight. If it had only been Marie-Claire, Brigid and herself going to Scotland, she’d have been bursting with anticipation. But her mother, long a thorn in her side, had the ability to turn the whole jaunt into a fiasco.

Stop giving it negative energy! she told herself fiercely. This was such a test for her. Every spiritual belief she espoused was now knocking at her door. Forgiveness. Releasing anger and resentment and letting go so she could finally put the past behind her and move on. And hopefully heal her relationship with her mother. Was it too big an ask? Could she and Imelda ever get on?