In the arrivals hall in Stansted airport, three cab drivers await the flight from Dublin, holding up name-cards: Flynn, McGann, Ryan . . . They are all from the same cab-company, all awaiting passengers bound for the same destination: the nearby Marie Stopes Clinic. "They're our best client," says one of the drivers. "All day we drive up and down the airport road with Irish girls." At the clinic, head nurse Marie confirms that at least four or five Irish women attend every day, some of whom give an Irish home address, others who don't. At weekends, there can be as many as 15 a day.

"They would break your heart," she says. "Especially some of the younger girls from the country. It might be their first trip out of Ireland, their first time ever on a plane. And they are pretending to everyone that they are off to London on a great jaunt or else not telling anybody that they've been over at all. We try to put them together in the ward. That helps a little."

Travel adds untold stress to the whole experience, Marie believes, as well as considerable expense. "We've had Irish women arrive here with a handbag full of punts, only to find they don't know about the exchange rate or have got it wrong and haven't brought enough," says Michael Greenwood, clinic director.

Many Irish women travel alone, some with boyfriends or husbands, most with a female friend. If they are very young, their mother usually accompanies them. The youngest Irish girl Marie has seen was 12, but 13 and 14-year-olds attend every so often. Some 15-year-olds have come over alone and in secret. The clinic will perform the abortion if a doctor asserts she is mature enough to understand what she is doing.

Irish women are harder on themselves than British women, Marie believes. Confidentiality is primary for them, and they tend to berate themselves with guilt. "English women are upset too - of course they are - but the Irish women are full of shame. Religious factors play a bigger part with them too." She has seen a change since the passing of the Information Act in 1995. "I don't think there's been much of an increase in numbers but we do notice they are coming over earlier, which is obviously better from a health perspective." Michael Greenwood points out that there are clinical issues for Irish women in having to travel. "1.1 per cent of our clients come back with a complication, and full aftercare is part of our service. If an Irish woman has flown back home and something goes wrong, we can't help her."

"We tell them to try to get to Marie Stopes in Dublin if they can," Marie says. "Or to one of the clinics like IFPA or Well Woman, where they won't be judged. It's awful watching them go, knowing how alone they will be when they get back."

Names have been changed throughout to protect identity