‘Did I ever think I should say something? I did. Believe me, I did. But I was scared. And I told myself that all I would do was taint a fine man’s memory. You’ve got to understand – in the grand scheme of things, 1982 isn’t that long ago. In other ways, it may as well be a thousand years ago. People were very quick to judge. They still are, except in different ways. Leo’s family would have been inconsolable. Many others, in Knockgreelish and Kilmitten, would have shown no mercy. There’d have been an almighty rumpus. And for what? The guards were talking about money and gambling debts, so I convinced myself that what I knew wasn’t important.’

‘I see.’

‘I remember on the day of Leo’s funeral, sitting in the front pew, thinking, She must be here. I had a notion I’d be able to spot her, that somehow she’d stand out. But I was fooling myself. At one point, the bishop said something about Leo wanting to go to Africa on the Missions. It was hard not to stand up and tell him he’d got it wrong. That the man he was eulogising had intended to leave the priesthood and be with the woman he loved.’ She stopped to wipe away a tear with the heel of her hand. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘There’s no reason to apologise.’

As Conor would have expected, Hannah’s tears were quiet, dignified. This was not a woman who would bawl and wail.

She reached into her handbag and took out a tissue. ‘Afterwards, when Gregory’s parents had died, I almost told him. I should have told him. But again I was scared. I mean, can you imagine discovering that your wife was such a deceitful person? May God forgive me, but I haven’t even been brave enough to talk about it in Confession.’

‘You can’t allow yourself to think like that.’

She patted her face. ‘Nowadays, there’d be no reason not to open up. Two adults falling in love? Most folks wouldn’t be shocked at all … especially after all the scandals and the way all those lovely children were treated.’

Conor felt for her, one of the faithful who’d been shaken to the core by the revelations of recent years. Her entire story was grim. For thirty-five years, she’d carried this burden. Father Leo Galvin had broken no law, but the unpalatable truth was that many in his community would have found law-breaking easier to forgive. Drink-driving? Tax evasion? No problem. Loving a woman? Shocking.

Hannah put down the tissue. ‘I should have talked to someone. I’ll always regret that I didn’t.’