The old man stood up and fumbled in his pocket.

‘And do you know what she said to me? She said she forgave me! Oh merciful Jesus! She looked me in the eye and thanked me for telling her. Then we prayed together, one last time for her lost child, before I could take no more.’

He began to shuffle past Cormac and dropped a folded envelope onto the floor as he passed.

Cormac stretched through a tight gap in front of him to reach it.

‘Father, you’ve dropped this.’

He didn’t turn around.

‘No, son, I didn’t drop it. I was hoping you wouldn’t see it until I left.’

He heard the door gently close. He looked at the front of the envelope. It contained two words scrawled in barely legible black ink: FOR CORMAC.

He slid across the bench until he reached the light from her candle. He unfolded the small square from inside. He held it in the light and began to read.

Dear Cormac,

I know if you are ever reading this then it means I am gone. I’m not much of a writer as will be apparent to you from this. I’m writing this in the presence of Fr. Mackie who has just told me what happened to my child all those years ago. I wanted to write to you because I know I’ve not always, or ever in fact, behaved like a sister to you. I know on many an occasion when you were just a boy I made your life a misery. I do not ask your forgiveness for my cruelty, I only ask that you understand. I was angry and bitter at the loss of my baby and I took that anger out on you. It was not your fault. Your only crime was to be a constant reminder to me of what I lost. I want you to know I’ve always loved you and I’ve always been very proud of your achievements. I’m going to leave you in peace now Cormac. It is with great pain but also great pride I now know the truth. The child I thought I’d lost all those years ago was in fact with me every day. I only wish I could have loved you more. Forgive me for the sentimentality of the next line. I’ve waited my whole life to say it but I’ll have to settle for writing it.

Good night and God bless, my son.

Your loving mother,

MAGGIE xxx

He could hardly read the last three lines through the saturated paper. He sat the letter down beside him.

He fell off the bench and onto his knees.

And prayed to a God he didn’t believe in, for a mother he never knew.

41

The disgraced former minister walked from the warmth and light and stepped into the cold and dark. His shoulders ached and he paused for a moment to adjust his grip before finding a sanctuary in a little doorway of a derelict shop front. He’d never been happier or more content.