That was one of the things Keelin most liked about her mam. Imelda believed women should be educated, independent and have their own money. She believed in equality. She was even a member of the Women’s Liberation Movement. She didn’t make Keelin and her brothers go to Benediction and Devotions and Holy Hours, like a lot of her classmates had to. Once Keelin had overheard her mother saying to her dad that she didn’t believe in all that ‘religious shite’ anymore and she only went to Mass on Sundays ‘to keep up the façade, for the sake of the children’.

Keelin had been shocked. How could her mother not believe in the Church’s teachings? Especially when she came from a religious family that had a nun on the Missions? Neither Imelda nor Larry went to confession, and Imelda had told Keelin that she could make up her own mind about continuing to go when she turned sixteen. In the meantime, Keelin went once a month or so, unlike most of her classmates who went weekly. Keelin wondered, did the nun who was coming to visit know of Imelda’s controversial opinions?

When her mother was in good humour – which seemed to be a rare thing these days, Keelin thought glumly – she could be impulsive and good fun. Last week, on a gloriously sunny day, she’d called Keelin, Cormac and Peter to get up and give her a hand, because they were going to go to the beach for the day and she wanted to bring a picnic. She needed a day off, she declared. She’d had ‘enough of everyone’. So Peter got a day off from school, much to his joy.

Her brothers had packed the boot of Imelda’s Ford Cortina with windbreaks, tartan rugs, the yellow lilo, a football, a bucket, spade and towels and swimming togs, while Keelin had helped make the picnic. Imelda had sent Peter down to the shop to get Tayto crisps, lemonade and chocolate bars, then they’d set off, giddy with excitement to be spending the day on the beach, an hour’s drive away.

The boys had set up the windbreaks, hammering the posts into the sand with flat stones while Keelin and Imelda had spread out the rugs and all their bits and pieces. Imelda had been first to dive into the surging Atlantic waves, squealing at the cold, urging Cormac to get down in the water and not be standing there shivering. Keelin dived in straight away, preferring to get the shock of the immersion in the freezing cold water over quickly. The sun had been warm on her face and shoulders and she’d felt she was in heaven, the blue-green sea glittering so brightly she had to squint to look at it.