Increasingly, he’d found himself getting involved in local campaigns. The biggest of these had centred on the closure of the garda station in Kilmitten. Personally, he hadn’t felt it was any massive scandal. The new station in Templemorris was just a few miles away. But for many the decision was symbolic of a broader problem. ‘We’re seeing no boom here,’ was the constant complaint. Again, Tom didn’t necessarily agree. Eight-bedroom mansions were popping up like weeds, and his family’s filling station had expanded to include a grocery shop and an off-licence. The site where the Crossans’ house had once stood had become a small estate of starter homes. The local campaigns gave him something to do. He had more time on his hands – and more energy – than most Kilmittenites. Plus, he had Vanessa at his side. He might never have taken the final leap into politics if it hadn’t been for her encouragement. During the depths of the recession, a number of business people approached him suggesting he run as an independent candidate. ‘The area hasn’t had a TD since the days of Paddy O’Grady,’ they argued. ‘Nobody in power is listening to us.’

Tom’s initial impulse was to decline. ‘I’m not ready,’ he said.

‘You’re forty-one years old,’ his wife replied. ‘What are you hanging around for?’

His father liked to say that Tom had finally found his purpose. Privately, Tom felt that Vanessa had found it for him. He regularly reminded himself of his good fortune.

Following the birth of their third child, Vanessa had given up running the boutique. She ran their home, and Tom’s life, instead. They had three sons: eight-year-old twins, Harry and Cormac, and Senan who was six. With their halos of blond hair and wide brown eyes, the three might well have been triplets. No wonder they were known in Kilmitten as Huey, Dewey and Louie.

Two years previously, they’d moved to a detached house on the outskirts of the village. With its five bedrooms, four bathrooms, oak floors and enormous garden, Tullaroe had cost Tom far more than he’d planned to spend. That was before he factored in the cost of heating, electricity, and the man who kept the enormous garden from reverting to the wild. He also had an apartment in Dublin for the days when the Dáil was sitting. Thankfully, it belonged to one of the businessmen who had encouraged him to enter politics, so the rent was low.