‘How is the wedding, you mean - it’s happening today. I’m sure it’s all very dull and tedious, and that the guests have just turned up for the food. They’re having the reception in a hotel. No imagination, those two. I left them a card, though; I said I hoped that Aziz would be very happy with his pointy-nosed elderly, ugly bride, and that she’d be very happy with her baldy-headed elderly, ugly groom.’ Henna smiled smugly with pride at her parting gesture, and looked to her daughter for approval. ‘I only said the truth, that’s what you’re so fond of these days, isn’t it? I thought it would take lots of practice, like learning English, but I found it very easy. Wonderfully easy. And quite refreshing, I don’t know why I don’t do it more often.’ She stretched out her arms in a cat-like, satisfied gesture.

’Why are you here, Amma?’ Shona asked quietly.

‘Well, I’m doing what you said, dear. I’m giving tired old Dhaka a break, and I thought I’d travel. Spend some time in the UK, with my daughter and my grandsons. Get to know my new son-in-law; I hope I like him more than the first one. And I thought I’d give you a hand, what with you being a working woman now,’ she added disingenuously, as though Shona hadn’t been a working woman for years already.

‘A hand with what?’ Shona asked. Her mother was hardly equipped for helping with housework or cooking, or anything else, for that matter. Her skills lay solely in acting, singing and dancing.

Henna looked at her indulgently. ‘With the baby, of course. You’re not a young woman any more. I was already a grandmother when I was your age. You’ll need help with the baby. Omar told me all about it, although he thought I already knew; he and I are becoming great pals on email.’

Shona said nothing, looking very hard at her mother in shock, and then she threw herself into her mother’s arms, squeezing her fiercely and knocking the breath out of both of them. ‘Oh Mamma, thank you,’ she said, trying hard not to cry, not quite sure what exactly it was that she was so grateful for.