‘Will we have a pot of tea and a few buns?’ Tom suggested, glaring at his youngest daughter. ‘And we can catch up with all the news. Sure, we’ve loads to tell you. Lads, go get a table for us. Come on, Elizabeth – you pick the cakes.’

‘Are you enjoying working in O’Brien’s?’ Brigid asked Imelda while they waited for their parents to return with the tea and cakes.

‘Eh . . . no! It’s a job in a hick country village when all I want is to be up here in Dublin living my own life and not sharing a bedroom with Granny and helping out on the farm because John’s in ag college and you ran away to the convent,’ her sister drawled derisively.

‘Ah, don’t be like that, Imelda. Don’t ruin my last day in Ireland,’ Brigid sighed.

‘Am I to feel sorry for you? Is that it? Flying to Paris on a plane? Heading for Africa? Being trained as a nurse? And what am I? A shop girl. A farm girl. A girl of no importance. Give over, Brigid,’ Imelda retorted.

‘Aren’t you walking out with Larry O’Brien? Mam told me in one of her letters.’

‘Brigid, it’s bad enough being in the back of beyond without being left on the shelf. Thanks to you, I’m stuck helping out on the farm and living with Granny. So Larry’s the best I can do. We can’t all run away!’ she added pointedly.

‘I’m sure you could if you really wanted to,’ Brigid muttered, wishing with all her heart that her sister had stayed at home instead of lashing out with her mean accusations.

‘And leave Sean to do everything? Sure, all he cares about is his transistor radio, and making the few bob from Daddy to buy fags and a sneaky bottle of stout! He’ll be gone soon as he’s finished in the Tech. Where will that leave Mammy and Daddy? You knew what you were doing, entering the convent,’ Imelda sniffed, lighting up a cigarette, much to her sister’s envy.

‘Shush, here’s Mam and Daddy, we don’t want them to hear us arguing,’ Brigid snapped, spying her parents making their way towards them. She wanted to slap her sister’s cross face and tell her where to go, in a most un-nun-like manner.

When the boarding time for their flight was called, Brigid’s heart felt like lead. She’d no idea when she would see the family again. It could be years. She stood up and tried to keep her lip from wobbling. Her mother hugged her again, tightly, and whispered, ‘Keep doing what the nuns tell you, Brigid. I’m very proud of you.’

Elizabeth’s cheeks were damp with tears and that was nearly the undoing of her. ‘Thanks for everything, Mammy. I’ll write as often as I can,’ Brigid promised, her voice breaking.