‘You’re not the person I thought you were,’ she’d said. He couldn’t argue. Their ambitions had been entwined, and his sudden departure from government had hit her like a bereavement. His less charitable side believed the resignation had caused her more upset than learning the truth about Father Galvin. Their relationship was over. They just hadn’t acknowledged it yet. They needed to find the best way to bring their marriage to a close, and that wouldn’t be easy. The three boys still looked at Tom with awe, as though he had the answer to every question they would ever ask. That this would change filled him with sadness.

His parents had shown more understanding than he’d deserved. At first, both had erupted. ‘What sort of fellow are you?’ his father had asked, his voice splintering with rage. His mother had cried. Within hours, their anger had shifted focus. Tom’s dad said he’d never thought the day would come when he’d feel sorry for Emmet Minogue.

His mam wanted to tackle Helen. ‘Does that woman have any idea what she did to us?’ she asked.

Tom urged her not to do anything rash. ‘You’ll get your chance,’ he promised. She did as he asked. As so many times before, his parents displayed an astonishing ability to absorb difficult news and carry on.

Two days before Christmas, Helen Minogue and her solicitor went to the garda station in Templemorris. In early spring, she made her first court appearance. Outside, a barrage of cameras followed her. In the papers, she was described as ‘serene’ and ‘elegant’, as if she was a visiting royal rather than a woman accused of killing a man. Among politicos there was suspicion that Tom’s resignation was connected to the case. Helen being charged prevented the papers from trying to firm up the connection. Even on social media, people were circumspect. Attacking Tom was one thing; prejudicing a criminal prosecution was an altogether more serious matter. Oh, of course, out on the wilder fringes of the internet there were pages of ill-informed speculation. But railing against those was futile.

In Kilmitten, few knew the full story. That might change, but for now Tom was keeping his head down and getting on with what was left of his job. Many locals were unhappy. They’d liked having a ministerial car about the place and couldn’t understand his decision.

He was the first to arrive at their meeting spot. The afternoon was a fine one, sunny with a scattering of thin white cloud. The fields and hedgerows were laden with flowers. On a day like this, all of his gripes about home drifted away.