‘No, I flew in yesterday and Ella collected me.’ She omitted saying that she’d stayed the night in a hotel. ‘It was great to catch up, and I did a bit of business in Dublin with the letting agency and the house and all that stuff, and here I am. Where’s Papa?’ She followed her grandmother into the kitchen and sat down at the round oak table, glad to be at her journey’s end.

‘He’s gone over to Ardcloch to do a bit of work on the graves. We got new stones for them,’ Keelin said lightly. He’ll get such a surprise to see you.’

‘I’ll make up the bed in Keelin’s old room, you can sleep there.’ Imelda filled the kettle and took some mugs down from the press.

‘I’ll do the bed, Gran,’ Marie-Claire offered. ‘I don’t want you going to any trouble.’

‘I’ll do the bed.’ Keelin put milk and sugar on the table while her mother cut dainty fingers of Christmas cake to go with the tea.

‘It’s no trouble, I’m delighted to have you here, dear.’ Imelda patted her arm.

‘Thanks, Gran. Are you looking forward to the party? I can’t wait to see Mère’s face when I surprise her. Tell me all the plans for it.’

Imelda’s lips tightened. ‘Party! Party! Party! You’d think no one else had ever retired or got to eighty. Such a fuss!’ she grumbled, spooning tea leaves into the pot. She didn’t care for teabags and made tea the old-fashioned way.

Marie-Claire flashed a glance at her mother, who threw her eyes up to heaven. ‘Ah sure, we’ll have a big party for you, Gran, when you’re eighty,’ she said, deciding to ignore her grandmother’s petulance.

‘I don’t want any of that nonsense, ’tis far from surprise parties I was reared,’ Imelda sniffed.

‘So Mère thinks it’s a little party for the nuns and she doesn’t know the family is coming, is that it?’ Marie-Claire turned to Keelin.

‘Exactly! We’ve all booked into Kirwin’s Hotel—’

‘Who’s coming?’

‘The four of us, now that you’re home. Plus your Uncle John and Auntie Phil, Lucy and Laura—’

‘Terrific!’ exclaimed Marie-Claire, looking forward to seeing her cousins.

‘And the Sheedys. Brigid is very fond of them. A few people from Butlersbridge, of course and the Mother General—’

‘She’s coming? All the way from Paris?’ Imelda interjected sharply.

‘Yes, and two other Sisters. They’re only staying the night. Armand is collecting them from the station.’ Keelin eyed her mother warily.

‘For goodness’ sake! Isn’t it great for them all the same that they can spend a fortune on flights for a jaunt to Ireland? No doubt that money comes out of the charity boxes that people put their hard-earned money into,’ Imelda griped.