–  Yes, sir, and it’s not even raining.

–  Non! It is not even raining. Which is strange for Ireland. Such ugly weather and such beautiful girls. Is it the rain which made you so beautiful?

–  I don’t know. I better go in now before I get caught?

–  You will not get caught. All the good sisters are asleep. A little too much sherry and other intoxications involving the company of Father Kevin. They all went off giggling like schoolgirls. You know all about giggling, don’t you, Mary?

I was stuck. What could I say? He was laughing at me and teasing me at the same time. I felt like I didn’t have a dress on at all, never mind no knickers. I shivered. I bet he would tell Pious. He was looking at the stars; there were fewer here than at home because of the light pollution from Belfast. I looked too, just to join in and try to feel like it was okay. He wouldn’t know that they’d be reflected on the water of Lough Neagh, lying dark and vast close by. I hardly felt him move next to me. He backed me on to the cold slab.

–  You are cold?

–  I’m grand.

–  Grand?

–  Fine, you know, fine.

–  Yes, very fine.

He was moving his arms from my hands up my bare arms to my shoulders and back again. I didn’t breathe. He leaned in for a kiss and I just sat there. He lingered a few inches from my mouth so I kissed him. If he wanted to play games with me, fine, grand. I can play. He was a good kisser, a great kisser, but then so was I, I’d had years of practice.

He moved his hands back down my arms and kept moving ’til he had his hands on my knees, kissing me all the while, deeper and deeper. He stroked my thighs, higher and higher and then he reached my … oh! He pulled back then and looked at me. His face was impossible to read; it wasn’t shock or disgust. I’d totally taken him by surprise and I was delighted. He was firmly on the back foot!

His mouth was still open but he didn’t need to speak; I knew how it seemed and strangely I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted to be on his level, I was tired of being a little empty girl. I wanted to be exotic, I wanted to be louche. I wanted to be worldly. He smelt of cigarettes. He tasted of them, too. I’d put my tongue in his mouth and he suddenly didn’t seem so far above me, me, Mary the weed!