‘There we are,’ Imelda pointed excitedly to the lower left of the screen, where the camera panned along the lines of men, women and children who had come to pay respect and honour to the mothers and their babies who had suffered such appalling neglect and abuse at the hands of those to whose care they had been entrusted.

‘I’m glad I stood with them. I’m glad I made my protest,’ Brigid said tiredly.

‘I’m glad I was there with you,’ Imelda said purposefully.

‘Me too,’

‘And me,’ echoed Keelin and Marie-Claire.

‘And do you know, something?’ Brigid said slowly. ‘I understand now why I got The Little Children Magdalene card. It’s about never forgetting them and always holding them in our hearts, including the unborn ones lost to miscarriage and abortion. Today’s silent vigil and that beautiful song we listened to affirmed that for me, more than anything else could have. This was a very powerful and a very liberating day for me.’

‘For all of us, Mère. It was such a comfort to be here with you, and share the experience.’ Marie-Claire smiled at her.

‘That will give them something to think about in Rome,’ Imelda declared with satisfaction, listening to the discussion on the news about the low turnout for the Papal Mass, in comparison to the previous Papal visit. ‘Sure you’d get more at the Galway Races than were in the park today.’

‘And a wishy-washy apology had to be dragged out of them, and that is so much to their shame. Their day is over,’ Keelin remarked with disgust.

‘And not before time,’ Imelda said tartly. ‘They have a lot to answer for.’

*

‘So let’s try to plan a Magdalene Trail week in Gerona and Rennes-le-Château, and see if we can manage to climb to the summit of Canigou too, sometime around mid-October, then?’ Brigid suggested, looking at them expectantly.

They were sitting outside in the morning sun, enjoying the lullaby of the sea and having a last cup of tea together before Marie-Claire, Keelin and Imelda began their trip back to Dublin via Glencarraig.

‘I can go any time,’ Imelda chirruped.

‘I’ll make sure not to have any retreats planned for whatever week you come. Let me know as soon as you can.’ Keelin clapped her hands in delight.

‘I’ll check out the work diary and see what’s scheduled and clear my decks – that would be an in-joke at work,’ Marie-Claire grinned.

‘Something wonderful to look forward to.’ Brigid smiled broadly, the grief that had been etched upon her face softening at this unexpected treat in store. It had been Imelda’s idea.

‘I’m going to read as many of those books of yours as I can, Keelin, to see if I can make some sort of sense of the stuff you talk about,’ Imelda assured her daughter.