‘I’m going to that dance and I’m going to bloody change my life,’ she whispered. And there and then she decided that whatever else happened, she would use that dance and that night to turn her life around and to let him know she was waiting for him. She would make him notice her and she would tell him that there were no games to play and that she was willing to be his wife if only he would have her.

*

In the kitchen behind the shop, Michael picked up a clay pipe from the jar on the hearth, pulled free a wad of tobacco and used the diversion of stuffing and puffing to think about what he had just been told.

‘’Tis a mystery to us all, Michael,’ said Father Jerry, ‘but there cannot possibly be a mistake. There is only one Mary Kate from Tarabeg.’

Michael’s cheeks burnt as he drew on the dudeen. He swallowed down his anger. He wanted to roar at Father Jerry, tell him to get the hell out of his home, but he was his friend as well as the priest, so that was impossible. He surprised himself as a thin voice left him in an even tone. ‘Well, Mrs Brogan’s daughter has made a mistake. My Mary Kate has not got married – would not, indeed could not, without my permission. And, Jesus, for feck’s sake, you think my daughter would have a husband who died and I wouldn’t even know about it?’

What Father Jerry had told him was preposterous. And yet the girl who loved Tarabeg was elusive, barely ever got in touch. He couldn’t help himself, he ended on the roar he had tried to avoid. But Father Jerry, a man who had witnessed every human emotion in his years as a priest, did not flinch.

‘See now, I know Dana well, she is a very bright girl, and sure, she’s a great nurse, she’s not likely to have made a mistake. Would you like me to be ringing the hospital for you to see if it is your Mary Kate?’

‘No,’ Michael snapped, leaving Father Jerry in no doubt that it was time for him to leave.

If there were any enquiries to be made, Michael would call the pub in Liverpool and speak to Cat. If anyone would know what was going on, she would. He watched Father Jerry’s back as he retreated from the kitchen, deflated, shoulders slumped. It occurred to Michael that if it was Mary Kate, which it obviously could not be, he would be even more angry if the father had been given that information and had not passed it on to him. He had done the right thing.

‘Father,’ he said in a gentler tone, ‘I will call Liverpool myself, and when I do, I will tell you what’s what and then you can tell Mrs Brogan that her Dana has made a mistake.’

‘Ah, do you have a telephone number for her, Michael? Can you make contact with Mary Kate herself?’