‘What! I thought she was tied up with work. Brigid will be thrilled, all the Sisters will be. Oh what a treat.’ Una couldn’t hide her delight.

‘I thought that might cheer you up. It’s going to be a great party.’

‘If I don’t have a heart attack first. I’ll see you all tomorrow, pet.’

*

‘What’s up?’ Marie-Claire asked when Keelin put the phone down. They were sitting at the table in Imelda’s kitchen, Imelda was out getting groceries, and the Durand family were enjoying their time alone.

‘Una was saying she’s finding it hard to keep everything secret because Brigid’s under her feet all the time and she’s afraid she’ll realize the party is more than a little celebration with the nuns. She’s trying to think of a way to keep her occupied, away from the house, for a few hours so they can decorate the parlour and set up the buffet. Easier said than done.’

‘I could go down and distract her,’ Marie-Claire suggested, longing to get to her favourite place on earth.

‘And how would you explain your presence? She’d know something was going on if you arrived unexpectedly,’ Armand pointed out. ‘Hercule Poirot had nothing on the Reverend Mother, as we well know,’ he added wittily, and his wife laughed.

‘Mère doesn’t know anything about all of us coming to the party. I could always say that I took holidays owed to me. I’ll tell her I flew in to Shannon.’

‘You mean you’re going to tell big whopping lies?’ her father teased.

‘Huge ones!’ his daughter grinned.

‘That’s a good idea,’ Keelin approved.

‘Right! That’s a plan. I’ll go and pack.’ Marie-Claire finished her slice of bread and carried her dishes to the dishwasher.

‘Mam won’t be too impressed that you’re leaving already. And I was looking forward to spending the day with you.’ Keelin followed her daughter to the sink with the rest of the plates and mugs.

‘I know, Maman, but you’ll be down tomorrow and we can spend time together then.’ Marie-Claire hugged her mother when she straightened up from loading the dishwasher.

‘Brigid will be over the moon—’

‘Why will Brigid be over the moon?’ Imelda came into the kitchen, at the tail end of Keelin’s comment, and hefted her shopping bag onto the table before divesting herself of her hat, coat and gloves.

‘I’m going to go down to the Four Winds to help Una out. She’s a bit fraught, to say the least,’ Marie-Claire said lightly, waiting for Imelda to erupt.

‘For goodness’ sake! You’ve only been here a night. Am I not going to get any time to spend with my granddaughter?’ she exclaimed crossly, on cue, hanging her clothes up in the small closet off the kitchen.