‘Do, pet, do. I love getting your letters.’ Elizabeth stepped away to let Tom take her place. He put his arms around her and told her she was the best daughter in the world, and she’d made the family very proud, and to remember them in her prayers. ‘Travel safely,’ he added, slipping a St Christopher medal into her hand. As her fingers closed around it, she knew it would be one of her dearest possessions.

John gave her an affectionate jab in the ribs and told her to write to tell him everything about the flight, before he handed her a pound note.

‘We’re not allowed, John,’ she protested.

‘It’s your running-away money, in case you ever need it!’ He winked and she laughed, and slid it under her bandeau.

Sean gave her the thumbs up and slipped a packet of cigarettes into her habit pocket. Her baby brother was taller than she was now, and his voice was breaking. He would be a man the next time she saw him, Brigid thought sadly, giving him a peck on the cheek, much to his embarrassment.

‘Bye, Imelda,’ she said quietly, turning to her sister.

‘See ya, eh . . . safe journey,’ Imelda said offhandedly, clearly not interested in hugging or kissing her – until she caught her mother’s gimlet eye. Grimacing, she leaned over and gave Brigid a quick peck on the cheek before wandering off to look out onto the tarmac.

A cold farewell, thought Brigid. Imelda had never been one for putting on a façade with people. She supposed there was integrity of sorts in being true to yourself. Imelda was more true to herself than she’d been, Brigid acknowledged ruefully. She’d grown quite accomplished at looking at herself in the mirror and not seeing the true reflection.

Imelda had been painfully perceptive in her accusations that Brigid had no vocation, and that she was using the lie to escape Ardcloch. There was no denying that.

‘We have to go now, Sister Brigid,’ Mother Agnes reminded her, turning to crook a finger at Orla who was bidding a tearful farewell to her family.

‘Sister Brigid is a credit to you, Mr and Mrs Dunne. She’s worked very hard at her nursing training and she will be a great asset to us on the Missions.’ Mother Agnes shook hands with Tom and Elizabeth.

The memory of the look of pride on her parents’ faces at the Novice Mistress’s words would get Brigid through many difficult times in the Paris convent while she prepared to take her final vows. Even Imelda had looked surprised at the laudatory words of the older nun.

Brigid’s last view of the family had been through the aircraft window. They were all standing on the rooftop viewing balcony, waving enthusiastically as her plane trundled slowly past, making its way towards the runway.