‘Right.’ Nola unfastened her apron. ‘There’ll be no more bread baked here today. Hats on, ladies. Michael, let’s get down to the village. Fetch Joe and tell him to bring his car too, and tell Seamus and Pete to come with him. I feel it in my bones, this is trouble.’

As they approached the village, Nola’s prediction sprouted legs sooner than even she could have anticipated. Just as Michael was turning the car out onto the main road from the bottom of the boreen, Father Jerry almost ran headlong into them. Michael slammed on the brakes and jumped out from behind the wheel. ‘What’s your hurry, Father?’ he asked.

Father Jerry leant on the car with one hand and caught his breath. ‘My car’s in Murphy’s stable or I would have been here quicker. Go and fetch American Joe, there’s trouble. Teresa is beside herself. I’ve told her not to call the guard, we can’t take the risk.’

‘Father, what are you on about? Joe’s already on the way down, with Seamus and Pete. Mary Kate has gone missing, Father – was she at Mass?’

‘The guard?’ said Nola as she opened the passenger door.

Michael took the letter Father Jerry held out to him. As he read it, his world shifted beneath his feet. His eyes met Father Jerry’s and although he tried to speak, he couldn’t on account of the bile that filled his mouth.

‘No, she was not, but we have this. Read it, would you, Nola.’

Michael’s hand was trembling as he held out the dirt-stained letter for Nola to take.

Cat’s face was pressed up against the back window. ‘I’ve no idea what’s going on out there,’ she said to Mrs O’Keefe, ‘but whatever is in that letter has made Nola mad.’

Mrs O’Keefe was staring straight ahead, through the front windscreen. ‘Yes, and Michael isn’t too happy, either.’

Cat swivelled her head round and saw Michael vomiting on the side of the boreen. She almost fell out of the car as Nola jerked open the door.

‘Move over, ladies, let me in beside you. Father, get in the front and come with us,’ she shouted in a tone that it would have been futile to resist. ‘Michael, pull yerself together, this is an emergency. Get in the car and drive.’

Michael stood, wiped the back of his mouth with his hand and, white-faced, returned to the driver’s seat. Everyone was silent as the car turned into the village: Cat too scared to ask for any further information, and Mrs O’Keefe too concerned. The only words spoken were from Michael to Father Jerry. ‘It’s back, Father. The curse.’

The only acknowledgement Father Jerry gave was to close his eyes, and he remained like that until Michael brought the car to a screeching halt in front of the post office. Michael missed Mr Keene by only inches as the solicitor held open his car door for Matron to alight.

*

Her eyes had adjusted to the gloom, and although she could not see him clearly, just a grey form on the floor, she knew he was there by the smell, which appeared to be getting worse by the hour.