A glamorous blonde woman of about sixty came to the door. Her hair was styled in soft curls. Either she had just had a blow-dry or she had a way with heated rollers. I had imagined another Ann Carney, someone spare, someone haunted. Not this.

‘Mrs Macbride?’

‘Yes, my dear. How can I be of assistance?’

She had a confident, seen-it-all air, like a senior Aer Lingus stewardess. I had the feeling that, if I stood around long enough, Mrs Macbride might offer me a G&T.

‘Actually, it’s Rhona I’m looking for.’

‘You’re looking for Auntie Rhona? Not here,’ the boy said.

‘That’s right. Rhona doesn’t live here, hasn’t for years,’ Mrs Macbride said.

‘I know,’ I said, winging it. ‘But I really need to talk to her.’

‘Are you a friend of hers?’

‘Not a friend, exactly. Look, I don’t expect you to just give me her address or phone number. But maybe you could ring her for me and tell her I need to talk to her. That it’s very, very important, it’s vital, actually, that I do. This is my driver’s licence and here’s my business card. I can wait out here if you’d prefer. I’m parked just down the road.’

I handed my card to Mrs Macbride. She took it and read it.

‘You’re a solicitor?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I want to talk to her about when she was at the Convent of the Blessed Eucharist. Just before she changed schools. I know it must seem unusual.’

Mrs Macbride’s face changed, as if something was clicking into place.

‘Wait here,’ she said.

She closed the door and went into the house. Moments later, she was back. She handed me a piece of paper.

‘Here’s Rhona’s address. I’m sure with the internet you’d have found her sooner or later anyway. It’s better if she doesn’t know you’re coming, she won’t answer the door if you give her warning in advance. And she definitely won’t answer if she knows I sent you. We – well, we don’t get on. We talk, but not much. I’d prefer if you didn’t tell her you were here. She’s at work now but she should be home some time after five. Don’t get your hopes up, she never talked to us. I can’t tell you more because I don’t know anything. Goodbye.’

Without warning, she shut the door, leaving me alone on the step. I almost rang the bell again, but stopped myself. There was no need, I realised. I had got more information than I could ever have expected from Mrs Macbride, and from Sister Bernadette too.