It had been invigorating. The sand was warm under their bare feet. The heat, which had been a feature of the long, hot summer, was tempered by the southerly breeze that caressed their faces as they strolled along the golden beach below the Four Winds. After an afternoon spent bringing each other up to date on what had occurred in their lives since the trip to Scotland, they gathered to eat dinner on the small patio overlooking the pale blue sea. Una had cooked bacon, cabbage, parsley sauce and new, flowery queens that melted in the mouth.

‘These are such an occasion of sin,’ Brigid sighed, scattering salt and a dob of butter on her spuds and eating them with relish.

‘That was a real saying of the old days . . . “an occasion of sin”!’ Keelin laughed.

‘Everything was a blinkin’ occasion of sin, then.’ Imelda threw her eyes up to heaven.

‘Don’t remind me. I hated going to confession when I was training to be a nurse. The priest was always asking me had my work in the men’s ward ever been “an occasion of sin” for me,’ Brigid grimaced.

‘Are you serious?’ Marie-Claire was astounded.

‘I wish I weren’t,’ her great-aunt retorted.

‘It must have been strange for you, though, a young woman and a novice at that, having to nurse men and see their wobbly bits an’ all.’ Imelda dipped her forkful of bacon into the mustard smeared on the side of her plate.

‘Eeewww, we’re eating, Gran!’ Marie-Claire reproved.

‘Ah get over it, as the young lot say. You’ve seen plenty of those in your time, I’d imagine,’ Imelda gave her the eye.

‘Well, I’ll never forget the first time I saw the male appendage – because I never saw Johnny Larkin’s, it all happened so quick.’ Brigid put her fork down and her eyes creased in amusement at the memory. ‘Needless to say, I was curious, but apprehensive at the same time. We really were so innocent in those days, weren’t we, Imelda?’

‘We were. There was many a virgin on her wedding night got a lot more than she bargained for, I can tell you,’ she chuckled. ‘Come on then, let’s hear about your first “vision”.’

‘I was so disappointed when I saw that little soft wobbly thing that I’d tried to imagine for so long when I used to dream about being rescued from danger by William Holden – he was a famous film star, dear,’ she said in an aside to Marie-Claire. ‘So anyway, I’m looking at this most disappointing sight and I had my tutor, Sister Ignatius, standing beside me with a silver spoon in her hand. “If it rises up, slap it down, Sister Dunne. Slaaap it down,” she ordered. The poor patient didn’t know where to look and neither did I. I was mortified.’

The others exploded with laughter, guffaws echoing across the garden.