‘ “Ask and the door will be opened unto you. Seek and you shall find”,’ Keelin deftly quoted the Bible at her mother. ‘I searched and I found different answers, precisely because I questioned and asked and I followed the leads I was given, just as you are now, even if you are a doubting Thomas,’ Keelin teased, and they laughed, enjoying the unexpected camaraderie their trip was engendering.

At Gowkley Moss Roundabout, take the first exit onto Penicuik Rd/B7003, the calm, cultured voice from the satnav instructed.

‘Isn’t technology incredible, all the same?’ Brigid said in awe as Marie-Claire followed the instructions and turned right, before announcing triumphantly and with a sense of relief, ‘Here we are!’

They were glad to stretch and unwind and feel the gentle breeze drifting down from the Pentland Hills. The sun was warm on their faces as they walked towards the impressive glass and stone visitor’s centre, glimpsing the massive gothic, honey-coloured stone pinnacles and flying buttresses of the ancient chapel through the leafy trees to their right.

‘Isn’t that beautiful stonework?’ Imelda admired the wall that enclosed the chapel and led towards the entrance.

‘I’m so delighted to be back again,’ Keelin exclaimed, her head swivelling from right to left, taking it all in. ‘Could we please go into the chapel first and then we can meander around the visitor’s centre and maybe have a cup of coffee and a sandwich afterwards?’

‘It’s your trip, you’re in charge, Maman,’ Marie-Claire declared, following Keelin, who had entered the centre and turned right to make her way to the grounds of the sacred place she’d longed to return to for so long.

‘Oh my!’ Brigid stared at the imposing edifice in front of them. ‘It’s quite impressive, and most unusual. I love the colour of the stonework; it makes it warm, not like some of those big gothic cathedrals that are cold and sterile.’

‘I don’t much fancy the look of that fella. Is he the devil?’ Imelda pointed dubiously to a massive, grinning gargoyle. ‘And I don’t like them pair either . . .’ She pointed to two smaller ones on either side of the big wooden door that led into the north entrance. ‘Are you sure this is a holy place, and not one of those places that have strange goings on?’

‘Gargoyles are very common in medieval buildings – they were sometimes used as a form of protection, frightening away evil spirits. Actually, they’re water spouts designed to let water flow away from buildings, a bit like gutters. And don’t forget this was once a consecrated Catholic church, although it’s now Anglican, so you’ll be quite safe, Mam,’ Keelin explained patiently, reminding herself how new esoteric thinking was to her mother.

‘Oh well, if you say so.’ Imelda gave a wary side eye to the grotesque figure beside the door.