Emma had spent the past three months preparing for the “big event,” and nothing had been left to chance. Harry was even made to deliver a dress rehearsal of his speech in their bedroom the night before.

Three hundred guests beat a path to the Manor House for a black-tie dinner to celebrate Maisie’s seven decades, and when she made her entrance on Harry’s arm, it wasn’t difficult for anyone to believe that she must have been one of the great beauties of her day. Harry sat down beside her and beamed with pride, although he became more and more nervous as the moment approached when he would have to propose his mother’s health. Performing in front of a packed audience no longer troubled him, but in front of his mother …

He began by reminding the guests of his mother’s formidable achievements, against all the odds. She had progressed from being a waitress in Tilly’s tearoom, to manager of the city’s Grand Hotel—the first woman to hold that position. After she had reluctantly retired at the age of sixty, Maisie had enrolled as a mature student at Bristol University, where she read English, and three years later graduated with honors; something Harry, Emma and Sebastian hadn’t achieved—all for different reasons.

When Maisie rose to reply, the whole room rose with her. She opened her speech like a seasoned pro, not a note, not a tremor. “Mothers always believe their sons are special,” she began, “and I’m no exception. Of course I’m proud of Harry’s many achievements, not only as a writer but, more importantly, as president of English PEN and as a campaigner on behalf of his less fortunate colleagues in other countries. In my opinion, his campaign to have Anatoly Babakov released from a Siberian gulag is a far greater achievement than topping the New York Times bestseller list.

“But the cleverest thing Harry has ever done was to marry Emma. Behind every great man…” Laughter and applause suggested that the audience agreed with Maisie. “Emma is a remarkable woman in her own right. The first female chairman of a public company, yet she still somehow manages to be an exemplary wife and mother. And then of course there’s my grandson, Sebastian, who I’m told will be the next governor of the Bank of England. That must be right, because it was Sebastian himself who told me.”

“I’d rather be chairman of Farthings Bank,” Seb whispered to his aunt Grace, who was seated beside him.

“All in good time, dear boy.”

Maisie ended with the words, “This has been the happiest day of my life, and I count myself lucky to have so many friends.”

Harry waited for the applause to subside before he rose again to propose Maisie’s long life and happiness. The assembled guests raised their glasses and continued to cheer as if it was the last night of the Proms.

“I’m sorry to see you on your own again, Seb,” said Grace once the applause had died down and everyone had resumed their seats. Seb didn’t respond. Grace took her nephew’s hand. “Hasn’t the time finally come for you to accept that Samantha is married and has another life?”