‘You can and you will,’ he decreed. ‘Our parents left the farm to me because I was the eldest. Which I know was the tradition in those days, but which, as Imelda has pointed out on numerous occasions, is most unfair. Our Imelda always stands up for herself when she feels she is being hard done by,’ he joked, winking at Brigid. ‘I felt you were hard done by. Imelda and Sean got their whack when I sold some of the land to a developer a while back, and this is your entitlement. Enjoy it. You more than deserve it. You gave up your life for others, now it’s our turn to give something back to you. And that’s the end of my speech,’ he added, ‘because I hate making them.’

Everyone laughed as he stepped back to allow the Mother General to take his place, and, because he had his back to her, he didn’t see the look of outrage on Imelda’s face.

‘I only served as any nun would serve God and her Order. I’m truly nothing special. It was an honour to work in Senegal. I can’t thank you all enough for all your kindness to me, I don’t deserve it,’ Brigid said, eyes bright and shining with tears, showing how touched she was.

‘You can say that again,’ Imelda muttered from behind Keelin. She was incandescent and mortified at her brother’s throwaway jibe. Everyone turned to look at her, standing with a fierce glint in her eyes that boded ill to all who knew her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

‘Em . . . I see my sister is agreeing with me,’ Brigid said with wry humour. ‘Thank you, Imelda, for never letting me forget my place.’

‘If you really knew your place you wouldn’t be standing there, pontificating and pretending to be so humble!’ Imelda’s eyes were black beads of anger.

‘Mam, stop it!’ Keelin hissed. ‘Don’t ruin Aunt Brigid’s party.’

‘You needn’t talk, madam,’ Imelda said sharply as an awkward silence descended on the guests. ‘You’re as bad as she is.’

‘Imelda, please. Control yourself,’ Brigid said with years of authority in her tone.