Peggy stopped mid slice with her knife in the air. A lump of butter splatted onto the wooden table. ‘How in God’s name does she know her? Did Mary Kate meet everyone in Liverpool when she was there? I mean, when I asked her had she seen the Conomys, she said she hadn’t, and yet everyone coming here seems to have met her.’

Keeva clapped a slice of bread on top of a thick slice of ham. ‘I don’t know, Peggy, but I do know this: she went through a tough time in Liverpool, and when this is over, she won’t be staying here with us. I think there is something to what she says, you know – the change, the hotel coming and all. The visitors, that solicitor, and even Mrs Doyle putting up advertisements to recruit nurses for Liverpool. Would you look at her.’

They both looked to the post office window, where Mrs Doyle was standing on the stepladder. Matron had joined her and was holding it for her. ‘Be careful now,’ she said as Mrs Doyle climbed the steps to fix the poster to the window.

‘Don’t let me go now, Matron, will you,’ said Mrs Doyle. ‘Mind you, I’m in the right place if I do fall down, with you and the doctor here.’ She laughed out loud.

Peggy and Keeva looked at each other in astonishment. They had never heard Mrs Doyle laugh out loud before. ‘See what I mean,’ said Keeva. ‘Mary Kate has been kidnapped, everyone is running around like headless chickens, Mrs Doyle is laughing like a kettle. It’s all changing and there’s nothing we can do about it. I reckon you have to be here to go along with it, you know.’

Peggy had no chance to respond as the post office door almost banged open and in strode Joe, carrying a boot. The stepladder rocked back and forth and Mrs Doyle held on for all she was worth. ‘Holy Mother of God,’ she yelled as Matron almost threw herself onto the ladder to steady it.

‘That’s Mary Kate’s boot he’s holding,’ said Keeva, the colour draining from her face.

The crowd of waiting women, which had thinned out since earlier in the day, gathered around Joe and peered at the boot as though it were the Holy Grail.

‘Find Michael, someone,’ Joe said. ‘We all need to head out to the shore. He took her from the cottage and it’s unlikely he brought her back here, into the village. We’re all looking in the wrong place. Bridget said she’s close to the shore and I’m not going to argue with Bridget.’

The murmur of voices rose to a crescendo then halted as Father Jerry walked in. ‘Everyone needs refuelling, so they’re heading back here for food and drink, Mrs Doyle,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing to be seen or heard of her anywhere.’

Behind him, the returning search parties began to arrive in the main street and make their way towards the post office.