‘No. I’ll tell you. Today has been all about the truth,’ Imelda said stoutly. ‘It said The Judgement, and what I took from it was not to be making judgements about others anymore, and hope that they wouldn’t make them about me.’ She jiggled her Baileys over the ice cubes and took a sip. ‘I like the taste of this though – judge that if you want,’ she jested in a most uncharacteristic fashion, lightening the mood.

‘That could apply to us all, dear,’ Brigid said kindly. ‘All in all, a very successful trip so far. Here’s to new adventures together.’ She raised her glass and they all did the same, clinking their glasses together.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

‘I’m definitely buying one,’ Imelda declared, loving the camera screen on the dash, as she reversed neatly into a parking bay. ‘I feel like the queen on her throne.’

‘The Queen of Glencarraig,’ grinned Marie-Claire, who had spent the past twenty minutes instructing her grandmother to keep her left foot on the floor and not to keep trying to change gear. In fairness, both her grandmother and great-aunt had mastered the rudiments very well and been equally impressed with the smooth drive of the car that had taken them over six hundred miles in the past three days. If she could ever afford it, she’d buy a Peugeot 3008 herself, she thought in amusement as the trio walked into the airy foyer of the Premier Inn in Dalkeith where they were spending their last night in Scotland.

Keelin was in her room Skyping Armand, and they had all decided to meet up for dinner at six-thirty, giving them time to freshen up and get sorted for the journey home.

Imelda eased her feet out of her shoes, glad to wriggle her toes. They’d walked a lot these past few days, much more than she was used to, and she was impressed at how sprightly Brigid was. She might walk to the shops in future, instead of driving, as she was wont to do, she decided, feeling her waistband tight around her waist. They had eaten very well on their trip. Some pounds would need to be shed.

Had she ever thought that she would be happy to go on holidays with her sister and daughter, and not feel like a misunderstood outsider, with the weight of the world on her shoulders? It was still hard to believe that she’d told her deepest secret to her family.

Keelin had been very upset about Larry, as Imelda knew she would be, and she’d endured a moment of guilt, wondering should she have kept her troubles to herself. But, by telling Keelin, a blockage had been cleared between her and her daughter, and she could only hope that Larry would be pleased for them.