Imelda’s flaring nostrils let her know that her barb had hit home and that gave her a good dollop of satisfaction before guilt got the better of her and Brigid mentally chastised herself for her childish, unchristian, mean-spiritedness.

She and Imelda had been united in their interest and curiosity about Rosslyn, and that had made the experience all the better. She should try to rise above her lower self and see the good in her sibling. That was part of the journey of life: seeing the good rather than the bad, Brigid reminded herself, switching off the bedroom light and following her family down to the large conservatory where dinner was about to be served.

*

‘Well, we survived our first day,’ Keelin grinned, clinking her glass of gin with Marie-Claire’s.

They were sitting on the side of their beds, in their pyjamas, having a private drinks party with the Hendrick’s Marie-Claire had bought for that very purpose in Duty Free.

‘They were grand during the flight and when we got to Rosslyn, but I sensed an edge sliding in soon as we got off the ferry. And over dinner there was a lot of shade in some of the tit-for-tat comments.’ Marie-Claire took a slug of her gin.

‘I know. One was as bad as the other. Brigid’s restraint didn’t last very long. She’s giving as good as she gets. This is the first time they’ve been in such close quarters since they were teens. And a lot of water has flowed under that bridge.’

‘I still think we were right to invite Granny. I think it was meant to be.’ Marie-Claire yawned widely. The sea air was so rich and pure she knew she’d sleep like a log.

‘Me too. It’ll be a rocky road, but healing will come on this journey.’ Keelin tried to stay positive. Privately she was wishing she’d come on her own; this was a journey she’d wanted to undertake for such a long time. Her mother was being her usual spiky self, and Brigid’s responses were a master class in passive-aggressive behaviour, unlike her earlier restrained impassiveness. Clearly, being in close confines with her sibling was peeling off the façade of polite non-engagement.

That was what this trip was all about though, she conceded. Stripping away the layers and getting to the kernel of disaffection and resentment between them. Identical too, to what was going on with herself and Imelda. The day of reckoning had come and issues had to be faced, no matter what the outcome. Family dynamics weren’t easy at the best of times.