‘It’s nothing like your situation. And you have Ursula and Ava. You are a father.’

‘Yes, thankfully. And I love them as much as I’d have loved our own sons and daughters. Which makes me realise even more strongly why Eliza is here. She needs to know who she is, where she came from, who she came from.’

‘And now she does. Job done. And no one else needs to know.’

‘Yes, they do. My brothers need to know. I’m not going to be the only son who knows this.’

‘They do not need to know. You live here. You found out by accident. It stops at you.’

‘I’m telling them. I’m also telling Dervla.’

‘She especially doesn’t need to know. She couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it.’

‘She’s my wife.’

‘Where do we stop then, Emmet? Do we hold another party in the pub? I could walk the streets of Trim, couldn’t I? In and out of the shops, saying Hugh died three years ago but look who just turned up – his Australian daughter, imagine that!’

‘Why not? Why not do exactly that? Once and for all.’

She ignored him. ‘Would I then ring Hugh’s family? His sisters? Give them a brand new niece? Then what, Emmet? Would we take out an ad in the Irish Times? Spread the word that way too?’

‘Ma —’

‘And for the rest of my life, everywhere I went, I’d hear it, wouldn’t I? There’s Sheila Foley. Couldn’t keep her husband happy. He went off to Australia and got some young one half his age pregnant. Isn’t it disgusting?’

‘You’re talking about real people, Ma. My friend Jeannie. Her daughter, Eliza. She’s not disgusting.’

‘Well, I am disgusted. How dare Hugh do this to me? How dare he tell me? How dare Jeannie tell him their child was dead? Why didn’t she let him meet her, let him keep sending that guilt money and then go to his grave, holding his secret to his chest. Why did he have to tell me? Why, Emmet?’

She was sobbing now. He watched, stricken. He didn’t know what to do. Console her? Leave her alone? She stood before he had a chance to decide.

‘I was going to contact Eliza. Whether I’d told you or not. But I’ve changed my mind. There’s nothing more to say to her.’

‘There’s so much more to say to her,’ Emmet said. ‘I want to talk to her about Jeannie. I want to hear about her own life too. Eliza’s. Who she is, what her life has been like.’

‘There’s no point.’

‘There is every point. Jeannie was my friend. Eliza is my sister.’

‘She is not your sister.’

‘She is my half-sister. Half is better than none. I always wanted a sister.’