For everyone except Kitty. For the last few years Kitty had been in an ever darker and more threatening place. She knew what Father James had done at the hospital. Stella McGinty had told Kitty the more specific facts of life in the playground only weeks earlier. It wasn’t a discussion that had taken place in Maura’s home, but Kitty knew Stella had been telling the truth. Everyone made such a fuss of her when she came home from the hospital. Even Alice, who as a result of the accident had learnt the basic art of caring for others. Alice had imbued the raw concern emanated by Kathleen and Maura, and, on occasion, had found herself being needed and useful. It didn’t happen automatically. She made a conscious effort on some days to look for something positive to do for someone else, but when she did she was well rewarded. After years of living within her own lonely capsule of solitude, she sometimes found herself smiling with pleasure. Alice wrote Kitty a handmade card. It was the first she had ever written and it took her an agonizing hour to write her message.
