The Girl in the Grave My adult life has been wrapped up with reading, writing or speaking about women in medieval Ireland. I explain (across various media) of how difficult life could be for them, of the often war-torn and unsettled conditions of life for both them and their children. I have cited massacres of them and been appalled sometimes by what they lived through. My concern though has been academic because, after all, how could I really relate? I know VAWG has been perpetrated since time began and sometimes what I have read has hit hard and stopped me in my tracks for a while but, gradually, while the empathy lingers the sharp feeling which engendered it slowly disappears. I push the sadness to one side. I get on, with being a mum and a wife and everything else. I keep busy, the mind moves on to new shores. But I recently read about a young woman in late medieval/early modern Ireland and both she and the story of her death has stuck with me since. Why her? Hard to tell. Perhaps