Ella and the girls had arranged to meet her to be with the thousands of women who were finally going to have a say in the right to make decisions about their own bodies. It was a momentous day in the lives of Irish women and Marie-Claire, remembering what her grandmother had told her about the Contraception Train all those years ago, wondered whether Ella’s daughters realized that the freedom they took so much for granted was hard won, and what a debt they all owed to that small group of women who had ploughed the furrow of liberation.

‘Where are the girls?’ Marie-Claire sat down and took some of Ella’s shopping from her.

‘They’re getting a cross-town Luas. They’ll be here in the next twenty minutes or so. I don’t care; I’m not waiting for them. I’m ordering a Coke. I’m parched. Do you want another coffee?’

‘Might as well add to my high. Yes, I’ll have another,’ Marie-Claire agreed.

‘Why are you high? Because we got a great Yes vote?’ Ella slid in behind the table and grinned at her friend. ‘Isn’t it heartening, women in Ireland finally got the support we need after all these years of being second-class citizens.’

‘I’m very glad I’m here for it and so proud of everyone who flew home to vote Yes, especially the younger generation. It gives me great hope for the future.’

‘So,’ her friend raised an eyebrow. How did it go with Marc? You gave him his walking papers, I presume?’

‘I did!’

‘Aaahhhh, Marie-Claire, I’m so proud of you! Well done, missus!’ She half stood up and leaned across the table and hugged her. ‘Tell me everything!’

‘ . . . then I said I hoped he’d never do it to another woman, and that was that,’ Marie-Claire concluded five minutes later.

‘Perfect, Marie-Claire. I love it.’ Ella applauded. ‘What a way to take back your power.’

‘Yep, I was rather chuffed with myself, because I did love him, and I was gutted when I found out about him and Amelia.’

‘I know you were, sweetie. I was worried about you for a while.’ Ella took a swig of her Coke.

‘No need to worry about me, Ella, life’s just peachy,’ Marie-Claire assured her.

‘And not even the merest flicker of wanton desire when he kissed you?’

‘Not enough to make me ride him, and you know how I envy you your shags with Shay,’ Marie-Claire laughed.

‘Hmmm. How is your bogger detective from next door?’ Ella teased.

‘He’s not a bogger; he only has a hint of a Connemara accent. Anyway, I’m not interested. He’s got two pre-teen daughters, and a divorce coming down the tracks. I don’t need a man with baggage,’ Marie-Claire said firmly.