‘The Emers are always in the TV room.’ The Emers weren’t all called Emer, but three of them were, and Nina couldn’t stand them. They were forever making fun of her, mocking what she said and the way she said it. They thought they were God’s gift, asking crazy questions about Kilmitten. Did her house smell of cow dung? Had she ever plucked a chicken or killed a pig? All the while, they honked with laughter. No matter how many times she told them her parents weren’t farmers, their act never changed.

‘The witches,’ said Tess. ‘Why doesn’t somebody stand up to them? It sounds to me like they’re in need of a good slap.’

‘It’s not worth it. They’d only get their revenge later on. And their parents all have tons of money, so none of the teachers says boo to them. At least the weather means I haven’t been able to go back. It’s a shame the snow can’t last until June.’

Tess tilted her head towards the window. ‘The way it’s going, it might. Those Emer girls ought to spend a few days in Kilmitten. We’d sort them out.’

Nina tried to imagine what the Emers – Dubliners all – would make of the real Kilmitten. What would they think of the old men who drove their tractors to the pub or the women who wore curlers in the street? How would they react when they learned that all phone calls had to be made through an operator? And that the operator listened in?

And what would they say about Father Galvin? Nina knew it was wrong, but when she’d seen some of the locals on the news – teeth crooked, caps skew-whiff, accents as thick as month-old milk – she’d prayed the Emers weren’t watching.

Wasn’t it strange, she thought, how without trying you could be two different people? In Kilmitten, she felt like her real self. No, better than her real self. Okay, compared to Tess, she was a bit of an innocent, but so was everyone else. Tess understood dirty jokes; she knew how to smoke; she’d French-kissed two of the boys in her class. All things considered, though, in her home village, Nina was on the cool side of average. In Millmount Abbey, she was a thousand miles from cool. She was tongue-tied and dull, a second-rater who always said the wrong thing at the wrong time. There were days when just walking into a room and sitting down were difficult.