Queenie went on to remind Mary about some of the laughs they’d had back in the day, like when Mary’s husband had turned up on her doorstep serenading her drunk late one night and Mary had opened the window and slung a bucket of piss over his head.

‘And what about when you chased Ada O’Brien down the road with your rolling pin and she fell flat on her face and her false teeth flew out and rolled down the drain,’ laughed Queenie. ‘Oh, and then there was that Christmas when you dragged me to the Blind Beggar and poured Mr Higgins’ beer over his head because he’d clipped your Daniel round the ear. “He’s my fecking son, therefore if he’s a little sod, tell me and I will clip him round the ear. You lay another finger on my boy and I’ll be punching you on that horrible pointy nose of yours,”’ Queenie said, mimicking Mary’s Irish accent.

She also told her old friend about her new home and the neighbours. By the time she finished her account of that pervert Peter Davidson being fished out of the Thames, almost an hour had passed.

Realizing Patrick would be waiting for her and it was time to leave, she steeled herself to tell Mary the thing that had been tearing her apart for so long: ‘It’s been lovely visiting you, Mary. But unless I have to come to Ireland again for a reason, which I very much doubt, this will be my one and only visit. I will always love you, treasure the times we spent together and will always be indebted to you for your kindness, help and advice. But I’ve been riddled with guilt since my Mum’s funeral and I know it’s the right thing to keep you in my heart, and my mum in my head. Like yourself, Mum was a big believer in life after death and I know she’ll be looking down on me. I’m going to get her the best headstone and make sure her grave has fresh flowers every week. Mum loved flowers and I feel that’s the least I can do for her.’

Tears rolled down Queenie’s cheeks. ‘I’ve also got a confession to make. I did something bad, but please don’t hate me for it, Mary. I always wanted to tell you. I even tried to a couple of times, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to risk you thinking badly of me.’

A voice piped up from behind her: ‘Mum knew. Everything. She wasn’t silly. She could never hate you, Queenie. Not in a million years.’

Queenie managed to stand up even though her legs were like jelly. ‘Daniel,’ she croaked, her voice no more than a whisper. She turned around and there he was. The only man she had ever truly loved.

Daniel walked towards Queenie and held her in his arms. ‘I thought I’d surprise you. It’s been ages since I’ve seen you. Too long.’

Queenie looked up at him. She could barely believe her eyes. His aftershave smelled gorgeous and, unlike Patrick, he still had pure black, wavy hair without a trace of grey. It was slightly longer than when she’d last seen him, and he looked older, with crow’s feet around the eyes and a few lines on his forehead, but he was still so bloody handsome. ‘It’s great to see you, but I have to leave now. Patrick’s meeting me in the car park. What did you mean when you said your mum knew everything?’