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Lucy sat in her little Nissan and looked around the car park, which was full of big flashy cars. Hers seemed out of place. She felt a bit intimidated. She watched as men in expensive jackets and women in designer coats walked towards the football pitch.

She had a flashback to her days with Tom, sitting in silence as his St Jude’s friends talked about holidays in Barbados and skiing in theAlps. Lucy had always felt slightly out of her depth with them. She was feeling the same now.

She took a deep breath.Get out of the car and go and watch your son play. You’re just as good as them.She reminded herself that St Jude’s had begged her to send her children there.

Her eyes darted from side to side, making sure she didn’t recognize anyone from the old days, but no one was familiar.Thank God. She breathed a sigh of relief and got out of her car.

She looked up at the huge stone building with ‘St Jude’s’ carved in a semi-circle at the top and smiled. Her twins, stars of St Jude’s. Every time she thought of Gabriel now, she grinned. Little did he know that his grandson was the sports star of the school and his granddaughter would probably come top of her class. How do youlike them apples, Gabriel? She chuckled to herself.

Lucy walked to the pitch and stood at the side. It was St Jude’s first match of the season. She had watched Dylan play hundreds of times, and now he kept pulling up his socks, which was what he always did when he was nervous.

‘Leave your bloody socks alone and focus,’ Jordan shouted at him, from the sideline.

Lucy held her breath and prayedDylan would have a good game. She wanted him to show them how brilliant he was, to impress Jordan and the headmaster, who was watching from the corner of the pitch. Lucy waved to catch Dylan’s eye. When he looked over, she pointed at his boots and smiled.

He nodded. It was their sign. She’d first done it at a game when he was about seven. He’d been playing badly and had turned to her in tears.She’d been close enough to him that he could hear her. She’d pointed at his boots and said, ‘Trust your feet.’ He’d gone on to score two goals. Since then it had been their signal.

Dylan relaxed and played out of his skin. He scored a hat-trick. When he put the third goal in the top left corner of the net, he’d run back down the line close enough to Lucy to high-five her. She’d almost burst withpride. Everyone had turned to look. They now knew she was the mother of the star of the team. Lucy felt ten feet tall.

After the match, parents came over to say hello and congratulate her on her ‘amazing son’. She almost felt like she belonged.

Then one mother asked, ‘Any plans for midterm?’

‘Taking the kids to London.’

‘We’re off to Paris. Rupert can take ours to the art galleries while Ishop,’ a mother in a long cream suede coat said. She reminded Lucy of Tom’s annoying St Jude’s friend, Olivia, privileged and not much substance.

‘We’ll head to our place in Connemara.’

‘How about you, Lucy?’

‘I’ll be working,’ Lucy said.

‘Me too,’ another mother said, sighing. ‘Medical conference.Mind you, it’s in Chicago so it could be worse. The last one was in Frankfurt.’

‘Lucky you,I’m stuck here defending Jenson,’ a father said.

Lucy had been following that trial. Harold Jenson, a well-known businessman, was accused of murdering his business partner, then trying to make it look like a break-in. He’d found out his partner had misappropriated the company funds and had allegedly gone mad and stabbed him.

This must be Jenson’s defence barrister, John Madden. He was very highlyregarded. Lucy remembered him from college. He was in the year ahead of her, and even back then the other students were talking about how brilliant he was. She felt the old regret sweeping through her, like a physical pain. If only … It might have been her defending Jenson.

‘Do you think Jenson’s brother’s testimony about the funds in Turks and Caicos will save him?’ she asked.

John turned toher. ‘Ah, a fellow lawyer?’

‘Oh, gosh, no, I’m not … I’m, well, just interested.’ She blushed.

‘I’m hoping the brother’s testimony will be enough. We’ll see how it goes next week. What do you do?’ he asked.

‘I work in my father’s business, a grocery shop.’ Lucy wanted to shout,But I studied law and I could have been good – I could have been great. I was smart enough …

‘Good business to bein,’ John said.

‘What? Oh, yes, I suppose it is.’ Not half as bloody good as yours, though, she thought. Still, Kelly would do it. She’d be the first woman in the Murphy family to be a lawyer. She’d be the one defending the Jensons of the world. Kelly would do it and make them all proud, like Lucy was supposed to.

‘And you’ve raised one hell of a footballer. Does his father play?’ John asked.