To Be the Best. Barbara Taylor Bradford

her obvious delight in the small token she had brought.

      Sister Bronagh untied the yellow ribbon, dispensed with the wrapping paper and lifted the lid of the Harte’s silver cardboard box. Underneath the layers of tissue paper were three different-sized toilet bags made of deep blue silk and trimmed with a lighter blue welting.

      ‘Oh, how lovely they are!’ Sister Bronagh exclaimed, taking one out, turning it over in her hands, opening the zip, looking inside. Her small, birdlike face was bright with sudden happiness and she took Madelana’s hand resting on the table and squeezed it. Thank you so much, my dear, they’re just what I need.’

      ‘I’m glad you like them. I wanted to get you something that was pretty but also useful.’ Madelana grinned at her. ‘I know you … how practical you are. Anyway, I thought these would be perfect for travelling.’ She rested her elbows on the table. Her fingers toyed with the glass of wine. ‘When do you leave for Rome?’

      ‘On the tenth of September, and I’m becoming excited about going. It’ll be a challenge, helping to run the residency over there. It’s situated not very far away from the Vatican, and that’s an added joy for me, being so close to the Holy See.’ There was a lovely glow about her as she continued, ‘I must confess to you, Madelana, I was thrilled when Sister Marie-Theresa picked me to be the one to go.’

      Madelana nodded. ‘Everyone here at the residency is going to miss you, though, me included.’

      ‘Oh and I shall miss you, too, Madelana, and the other old girls who still come to see me, and the ones living here now, and the sisters.’ There was a brief pause. A fleeting sadness touched Sister Bronagh’s eyes, and they grew moist, and then she cleared her throat quickly, sat up, straightened the collar of her white blouse. She gave Madelana a warm smile. ‘Tell me about your trip to Australia. It’s rather sudden, isn’t it?’

      ‘Yes. I’m going on business with my boss, Paula O’Neill. We’re leaving for Los Angeles on Saturday morning, and we’ll spend the night there, since she thinks we’ll both be in better shape if we break the trip instead of flying direct. We take the Qantas flight to Sydney at ten o’clock on Sunday night.’

      ‘And how long will you be gone?’

      ‘Two or three weeks, perhaps even four. Paula may have to leave me behind to follow through for her. We’re going out there because of the boutiques in the hotels. She’s concerned they’re not being run properly. The manager has been sick, and her assistant seems to either panic or flounder on alternate days.’

      ‘You’ve done well at Harte’s, Madelana, I’m proud of you.’

      ‘Thank you. Anyway, my career’s very important to me, as you know …’ Madelana stopped, and there was a hesitation in her manner, and she looked down at her hands resting on the table. Shortly, she went on in a more muted, thoughtful tone, ‘But working so hard these past few years has also helped me to keep grief at bay, to come to grips with my losses …’ Her voice suddenly trailed off.

      The sister reached out, took Madelana’s hand in hers, and there was a sense of comfort in this gesture. ‘Yes, I know it has. But then so has your great faith, Madelana. Always remember that God has His reasons, and that He never gives us a burden that is too heavy to carry.’

      ‘Yes, you’ve told me that many times before.’ Madelana tightened her grip on Sister Bronagh’s hand. There was a short silence between them. She lifted her head then, and smiled faintly at this devout and gentle middle-aged woman who had been so warm and loving to her when she had lived here, who had singled her out for special attention.

      ‘I couldn’t let you leave for Rome without coming to see you, Sister Bronagh, to thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping me to get through so much pain and sorrow, for making me feel so welcome when I first arrived. You gave me courage.’

      ‘No, no, I didn’t, Madelana,’ the sister said swiftly. ‘The courage was within you, already part of you then. As it is now. And as it will always be. If I did anything at all, it was simply to show you that it was there, to make you understand that all you needed to do was to reach inside of yourself, and to draw on it.’

      ‘Yes … But I’ll never be able to thank you enough for all you’ve done for me. And for all you’ve taught me – especially about myself.’

      ‘You were always very special to me, my child,’ Sister Bronagh replied in a soft voice. ‘If I had not chosen this way of life, had not chosen to be in service to God, to do His work, and if I had married and had had a daughter, I would have wanted her to be exactly like you.’

      ‘Oh Sister Bronagh, what a beautiful thing to say, thank you, thank you so much!’ Madelana experienced a sudden rush of emotion as her genuine feeling for this woman rose up in her and there was the unexpected sting of tears behind her eyes and she blinked them away, not wanting to break down. She realized how much she would miss Sister Bronagh after the nun had departed for her new job in Rome.

      Now Madelana said, ‘Your belief in me has been so important, Sister, it’s mirrored the belief my mother had in me. She encouraged me the way you have. I’ll try never to let you down.’

      The sweetest of smiles brushed across Sister Bronagh’s pale mouth and she said slowly, to give greater emphasis to her words, ‘The important thing is never to let yourself down, Madelana.’