‘As breathy and wide-eyed as ever. She got hair extensions. She’s worse than freakin’ Rapunzel, twirling it around her fingers.’

‘Bioch,’ laughed Marie-Claire, entertained as always by her friend’s acerbic wit. They chatted for a while, until Lizzie had to head off to the gym. Then Marie-Claire dusted some light bronzing powder onto her face, added a slick of lipstick and mascara before picking up the iPad to call Marc.

It rang for a while and she was on the verge of hanging up when he answered. He was wearing a towelling robe and his hair was wet, and he looked tanned and fit and, she had to admit, as sexy as ever.

‘Babes, how are you? This is a surprise,’ he said delightedly.

‘Hi, Marc,’ she replied, keeping her tone light. ‘Listen, I’m booking a flight for a trip back to—’

‘You’re coming back?’ His face lit up. ‘When?’

‘I’m not sure of the exact date. I want to see the prices. Next week sometime. Will you be around or will you be in New York?’

‘Honey, I’ll be sure to be around if you’re coming to Toronto. Let me know and I’ll collect you from the airport,’ he said eagerly.

‘No, it’s fine,’ Lizzie can collect me,’ she said firmly.

‘Don’t be like that, Marie-Claire,’ he protested.

‘Look let me book my flights, and I’ll let you know the details and we’ll arrange to meet up if you’re free. I need to talk to you, Marc.’

‘And I need to talk to you! I can’t wait to see you again. It’s been lonely without you. I’ve so much to tell you about NY.’

‘I’ll be looking forward to hearing it,’ Marie-Claire assured him. ‘See you soon, Marc.’

She waved and hung up and felt a great emptiness. If she hadn’t overheard that phone call of Amelia’s, they would still be together and she’d have been happy. Imelda’s words came to mind. ‘An affair can be got over.’

Could she get over Marc’s fling with Amelia? Had she punished him enough? Had she punished herself enough, distancing herself from him? Could she take him back? Brigid had told her forgiveness would make a relationship stronger. Imelda was saying that an affair could be got over. Was the universe sending her a message? Did she actually believe in that stuff her mother was so caught up in?

Her trip to Toronto would find the answers to all these questions, Marie-Claire knew. One way or another it was make-or-break time.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

Toronto

‘I knew you’d come back to me when your six months’ self-imposed exile were up. We’re meant to be,’ Marc said smugly, swinging Marie-Claire into his arms and kissing her passionately.

‘Marc, stop!’ she protested.