Mrs O’Keefe felt like she had just made the speech of her life and she hoped it had worked. She sighed with relief as Cat looked suitably chastened, but it was short-lived as Cat’s eyes flashed right back at her.

‘Right, well then, her Great-Aunt Bee is my friend. I’ll let you have your way over Michael, but I don’t care what anyone says, someone has to know. She can’t just turn up there pretending nothing has happened – she’s no actress. I am writing to Bee. You have to agree to that. I can trust Bee – she was my neighbour for ten years. I know she’ll do the right thing, and apart from anything else, she would expect me to tell her.’

‘That’s up to you, Cat, if you think she can be trusted. I have to say, I am worried about Mary Kate. If she goes home and doesn’t tell a living soul about what she’s been through and is reduced to telling lies about her life here, she could end up going truly mad.’

Cat didn’t need any further prompting and didn’t want to lose the moment while she had Mrs O’Keefe onside. ‘Well, there’s not a minute to waste then. Do you have an airmail letter?’ She pulled out a chair at the table and glanced at the sideboard.

‘I do.’ Mrs O’Keefe hurried to the drawer and removed her writing case. ‘I hope we know what we’re doing, Cat?’ she said as she placed it in front of her.

‘So do I. Surely they will understand that they had to live together because that witch of a wife wouldn’t give him a divorce. I mean, how backwards can they be over there? It’s not like anyone will blame her. They weren’t living in sin, Mrs O’Keefe, they were living in love. Anyway, I know Bee and I think she had her own secrets, although I never got to know them. She can hold a secret, can Bee, and she is definitely the best person to write to. I promise you that.’

Grateful to have redeemed herself in Mrs O’Keefe’s eyes and ashamed that she’d been exposed in her search for a reason to have contact with Michael Malone, Cat lowered her head and bit her lip in concentration as the pen scratched across the paper.

Mrs O’Keefe felt a sudden weight in her chest. She and Mary Kate had become as close as mother and daughter. With no children of her own, she had treasured and secretly enjoyed the fact that their bond had strengthened as each day passed. It was a bond built on trust in the face of adversity and even though this letter would bear Cat’s signature, she felt strongly that in writing it without consulting Mary Kate they were betraying her. Her biggest fear was that when Mary Kate returned to Tarabeg and discovered this, she might lose her forever.

‘I’ll tell you this Cat,’ she said as she pulled out a chair and sat next to her at the table. ‘You spelt “saddest” wrong – it’s two ds not one.’