‘No! . . . Oh no, Brigid! I was a virgin on the night of my wedding, for all the good it did me.’ Imelda took a gulp of tea and gave a little splutter.

‘Take it easy, Mam, sip it,’ cautioned Keelin, feeling very uneasy about whatever disclosure was coming. Why would her mother say a thing like that?

Imelda took another drink of tea, putting off the moment of telling the others the secret she’d kept to herself for decades. It was a strange feeling to know that it was going to be released from her now, like a genie from a bottle.

‘Mam what is it you have to . . . er . . . want to tell us?’ Keelin tried to hide her impatience. She’d a feeling that what was coming might explain her mother’s behaviour, but then again, knowing Imelda, it could very well be some molehill she’d built into a mountain.

‘Larry was gay!’

Stunned silence descended on the other three women.

‘What?’ whispered Keelin, bewildered. Had she heard right? Could this actually be happening?

‘Your father was a gay man, Keelin,’ Imelda said quietly, all the adrenaline gone out of her. Her shoulders slumped and she felt quite exhausted.

‘He couldn’t be. He fathered three children,’ Keelin stammered, not thinking her response through.

‘That was when he was hiding it from me,’ her mother explained wearily.

‘Imelda!’ Brigid stood up and hurried over to her sister and put her arms around her. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you keep this to yourself all these years? Have you told no one?’

‘Why didn’t you tell me your secret, Brigid?’ Imelda shrugged. ‘We didn’t have that kind of relationship, you and I. And sure, what good would it have done? It wouldn’t have changed anything. I still had to live with it. I never told a soul,’ she added sadly.

‘At least you wouldn’t have lived with it alone. I would have supported you, Imelda,’ Brigid said, devastated that her sister had lived most of her life with a burden that big to shoulder.

‘And I would have supported you, Brigid,’ Imelda reached out and took her sister’s hand. ‘We’re a right pair,’ she managed a weak smile.

‘Mam, you should have told me this years ago! It explains so much,’ Keelin said slowly.

‘How could I tell you, Keelin? You loved him so much. Far more than you loved me.’ Imelda couldn’t resist the dig.

‘I always thought you were mean to him. And he was so kind to you. I could never understand why, and now I do.’ She started to cry, heart-wrenching sobs, her shoulders shaking. Marie-Claire jumped up and put her arms around her.

‘It makes no difference to how he felt about you,’ she assured her distraught mother.