‘The children are your world. Fran is your world, and I might as well be a leper,’ Imelda replied flatly. ‘I hate you for what you’ve done to me, Larry. I will never forgive you, but I will do right by my children and I won’t disrupt their lives. Our marriage is over. You know that, don’t you?’

‘Please let me try and make it up to you. I’ll never see Fran again, I promise,’ Larry begged. ‘Imelda, I’m so sorry. I—’

‘Larry, what I saw will live with me for the rest of my life. Nothing you say is going to change that. Maybe time will dull the pain of it, I don’t know, but for now, let me feel the way I feel and don’t make false promises to me—’

‘They’re not false, Imelda. I will never, ever see Fran again,’ Larry assured her.

Imelda couldn’t think straight. Everything in her life had changed in that instant. If she’d no children, she’d be gone. But she did have children and she had a responsibility towards them, whether she liked it or not.

‘Do what you like from now on,’ she said bitterly. ‘I’m never going to speak to you about this again. Let the façade continue, because that’s what it is and always has been. You’re right. But you need to remember that once I became your wife, I was as good a wife and partner as I could be. I kept my marriage vows and I was never unfaithful to you. That counts for something, in my view. Here,’ she scrabbled in her bag for the condoms and threw them at him. ‘I won’t be needing these. I’m the biggest fool this world has ever seen.’

*

The water lapped gently against the quay. The boats bobbed up and down on the silky blue-green water. Her children were enjoying their Saturday out in Galway, a summer holiday treat that had been long promised. Imelda was going to bring them to have their lunch in one of the cafés around the Spanish Steps and their excitement was mighty. The deep musical chimes of the church bell across the road signalled midday, and automatically she and the children blessed themselves and began the Angelus. ‘The angel of the Lord, declared unto Mary,’ she intoned, and Keelin’s clear voice answered, ‘And She conceived of the Holy Spirit.’ A thought struck Imelda. She could bring Keelin to confession here; it would save her having to bring her tonight. One more chore of motherhood ticked off.

‘Will we get confession here and then we won’t have to go tonight?’ she asked her daughter.

‘OK, Mammy,’ her daughter agreed easily.

‘I don’t want to go into a church.’ Cormac made a face.