"So why did you wish...?"
"I don't wish it for myself, I wish it for you... so that you'll always be abe to choose, so that you won't have to do things because there's nothing else to do."
Mother was holding her hand. "Will you tell me something truly?" Kit had asked.
"Of course I will."
"Are you happy? I often see you looking sad. Is this where you want to be?"
"I love you, Kit and I love Emmet, with all my heart. Your father is the kindest and best man in the whole world. That is the truth. I would never lie to him and I don't lie to you either."
Mother was looking at her; she wasn't half-looking out the window with her mind abstracted, as she often did. Kit felt a wave of relief flood over her.
"So you're not sad and worried then?"
"I said I wouldn't lie to you and I won't. Sometimes I do get sad and a bit lonely in this little town. I don't love it as much as your father does; he was brought up here and knows every stone of it. I sometimes feel I might go mad if I have to see Lilian Kelly every day, and listen to Kathleen Sullivan whingeing about how hard life is in the garage, or Mildred O'Brien saying that the dust in the air is making her feel sick... but then, you know that.... you get annoyed with Clio and with school."
Mother had treated her as an equal. Mother had told her the truth.
"So do you believe me now, Kit?"
"Yes, I do." Kit said. And she did.
"And will oyu remember, whatever happens, that your passport to the world is to have your own career and that's the only way you are free to choose what you want to do."
It had been a great conversation. She felt much better about everything now. At the back of her mind, she had one nagging worry. Why had Mother said twice, not once, whatever happens? It was as if Mother could see the future.
Like Sister Madeleine seemed to do. Like the gypsy woman down by the lake.
But Kit had put it out of her mind. There was too much to think of, and wasn't it great that she had got her periods before Clio.
That was real triumph.