‘Right, are we ready for that walk down the boreen, then – isn’t that what you call it here?’ asked Mrs O’Keefe.

‘It is that,’ said Bee, standing next to Bridget in the doorway and crossing her arms. ‘There’s no streets or avenues up in these hills.’ They waved Mrs O’Keefe and Cat off down the fern-lined footpath.

‘Did you really see a tall dark man in the leaves?’ asked Bridget.

‘I really did,’ said Bee. ‘And what’s more, I saw his name, but I wasn’t sure, am I supposed to reveal that?’

Bridget closed the door and began to clear away the cups. ‘Ah, now you’re learning,’ she said. ‘Always best not to involve the name of another person, just in case. I sometimes do, mind. You can give someone the courage to take a little step they might not otherwise have thought of taking.’ She carefully placed the cups in the enamel washing-up bowl. She wouldn’t tell Bee all she had seen herself, or the ladies. But as soon as they were finished at the cottage, she would seek out Mary Kate.

Bee appeared at her side with the plate from the brack. ‘He’s not a man I thought was in search of a wife.’

‘Ah well now, he wasn’t, isn’t it funny. But last night at the party something happened and I know for sure he is now. Right, we have to start on the potions.’ She lifted her basket from the floor by the press. ‘I picked these fresh this morning, pennyroyal and mugwort. We might not have the contraceptive pill in Ireland, but we do our best.’

Chapter 16

Matron was late for her afternoon tea with Dr Gaskell but had so far just about adhered to her own no-running rule by walking at a swift heel–toe pace. Tucked under her arm was a folder containing the plans for the two new wards. She checked to see that no one was looking, then sprinted up the stairs to her flat and in via the small kitchen at the rear.

Elsie, the housekeeper, was buttering the crumpets, and Blackie, her cantankerous Scottie dog, was sitting obediently at her feet, waiting to catch the stray crumbs. ‘It’s not like you to be late, Matron,’ she said. ‘Dr Gaskell has just sat down in front of the fire. Wiped out, the poor man is. I reckon he’ll be catching forty winks by now.’

Matron hung her long scarlet-lined cape on the back of the door. ‘Yes, and when I wake him, he’ll say, “I wasn’t asleep, I was just resting my eyes, that’s all,” and he’ll be grumpy for all of two minutes, or until he’s eaten his first crumpet and drunk his first cup of your lovely tea.’

Elsie preened herself as she placed the tea cosy over the pot on the trolley and lit the small candle beneath. ‘Do you know how old Dr Gaskell is, Matron?’ she asked.

‘He’s as old as me, Elsie, and that means you’ll never know.’ Matron pushed open the green baize door with force and entered her sitting room noisily. It didn’t work. Dr Gaskell had entered his rumbling-snore mode. She smiled down at him with great affection in her eyes. She had lied to Elsie. He was older than her, but she knew he would never retire. He would leave St Angelus in a coffin. She coughed, loudly, and he jumped in the seat.