The old priest was trembling so much, Cormac took his arm and guided him into the seat next to him.

‘Maggie came to see me the day after your mother’s funeral. She was very upset and confused. She knew Jack had been mixing with a bad crowd, but she was never sure to what extent his involvement stretched - until she overheard him on the phone. She feared for your safety and for your daughter. She was tormented because she knew something, yet nothing at all.’

Cormac interrupted him.

‘Why didn’t she go to the police?’

‘I told her to go to the police immediately, but she was a stubborn woman, Maggie O’Reilly, and like I say, at that stage, she knew something but maybe nothing at all. Her only concern when she left here was to protect you and your daughter.’

Cormac thought of the names he had called her on the phone to Annie and the thoughts he had harboured last night after Liam had told him she was involved. He turned away from the priest for fear he would see his shame.

‘She did a very brave thing for me, Father. Something I’m not sure I deserved from her. I’ll never forget what she did and never understand it.’

‘Nonsense, son, your mother and Maggie would never let a week go by without telling me every detail of what Cormac O’ Reilly was up to in England. They had you as the next prime minister the day you first set foot in Parliament. She was very proud of you and she died because of her love for you.’

They sat in silence, Cormac thinking and the priest praying. Cormac stood up to leave. The priest moved his arm faster than Cormac thought possible for him. He pulled Cormac onto the bench.

‘Son, there’s something else I have to say. It is something I promised your mother I would never disclose, but now she is gone, I have to unburden myself of it. I told Maggie of what we did, but now she has passed, I want to tell you.’

The old man started to shake again.

‘We took her child, your mother and me. We took her child and God forgive me, it was not ours to take. We thought we were helping her. We thought we were giving her a life, but all we were doing was hiding your family’s shame. Your mother couldn’t face the shame, so we destroyed your sister before she even had a chance to live. She would come to me and pray for her lost child and all the while I’d know I’d stolen it from her. I was her priest and her confidante and all these years I was lying to her. I don’t know if even my all merciful God can forgive me.’

The tears were rolling down his wizened cheeks.

‘I told her this when she came to see me after the funeral. I told her what me and your dear misguided mother did to her when she was just a child herself.’