‘I’m a nun who has been sleepwalking through life, believing what I was told by my Church. Now I’m awake, thinking for myself, making my own decisions. And while I don’t condone abortion, neither do I judge anyone who has had one. I’ve never had to make that decision. There but for the grace of God went any of us. And my Yes vote will give women the chance to make their own decision, so that they’ll no longer have to put their lives in danger, or have to travel to a foreign country for a termination, if it comes to that. There’s a great liberation in being free to work all these things out for myself after all these years of toeing the party line, so to speak,’ she smiled at Imelda.

‘Could you be excommunicated for voting Yes?’ Imelda asked.

‘They can excommunicate away. They got the best of me. Now I’m giving my best, or what’s left of it, to myself!’ Brigid countered and they all laughed.

‘There’s a squad car outside your house, I hope there’s nothing wrong,’ Imelda said, when Marie-Claire turned onto the road where she lived.

‘That’s my neighbour getting out. He’s a copper—’

‘He’s not wearing a uniform,’ Imelda observed as Marie-Claire indicated and waited patiently to get into her parking space.

‘Maybe he’s a detective Garda,’ Brigid said. ‘What’s he like?’

‘He seems nice enough. I see two young girls staying over part of every week. I think he’s probably sharing custody of his kids or something.’ Marie-Claire pulled into her spot when the squad car moved off.

‘Good to have a guard beside you. Excellent for security. I like the colour of your door,’ Imelda approved.

‘Nice, isn’t it?’ Marie-Claire admired the lilac gloss paint that reminded her of window shutters in Languedoc. They all trooped into the hall behind her, oohing and aahing at the light airy pastel décor, and the mouth-watering smells emanating from the kitchen.

*

‘I am stuffed.’ Imelda sat back an hour later, patting her tummy. ‘That was delicious.’

‘Very tasty, dear. Thank you.’ Brigid wiped her mouth with her napkin.

‘Let me clear the table.’ Keelin stood up.

‘Stay where you are, Maman, I’ll fling these into the dishwasher and then I’ll serve up dessert. I got a strawberry roulade over in Thunder’s,’ Marie-Claire instructed, delighted that her meal had gone so well.