‘Come in. Eat. Tell us.’ Adila manoeuvred him through the hall, into the dining room. Jelly spotted an unfamiliar quizzical expression in Adrienne’s eyes. She was growing up and beginning to understand.

Over Adila’s goulash, the Fachiris and Jelly bombarded him with questions, the two women less tactfully than Alec. What had happened? ‘Many things,’ he said, without meeting their gazes. What had prompted his decision? ‘Many things.’ What would he do now? ‘Many things. Another book. More research. I don’t know yet… Look, this is a difficult job at the best of times. I feel there’s nothing more I can do, and when one feels there is nothing more one can do in one’s job, it’s time to leave.’

‘Don’t be so gloomy,’ Adila pleaded. ‘It’s Christmas.’

‘Adi, we’ll do Christmas in a minute,’ Alec promised. ‘Erik, I can understand this very well and I don’t blame you a bit. It’s no time to be a diplomat if you’re also an idealist. We all need to wake up. Germany’s going to explode sooner or later, probably sooner. I just heard that they’re saying they’ll take children away from their parents if they’re not being reared to be National Socialist enough.’

‘And probably send them to my school,’ Adrienne mumbled.

‘The whole of Europe’s going mad,’ Erik said. ‘Look at Spain – thousands of young men being killed over an insane ideology. As for Russia, God alone knows… ’

‘Still, Erik, in some ways you’ve picked an original moment to abandon government circles – now that your own party is in power,’ Alec noted.

Erik had spent some years as a Swedish MP, but being a Social Democrat, only in opposition. ‘My one concession to English irony,’ he remarked.

‘It’s nothing to do with the book, is it?’ Jelly asked. If she felt so unsettled by the accusations surrounding its publication, its author must feel far worse. Besides, she wondered silently what his government might think about his enduring credibility.

‘I wouldn’t resign for the sake of a few idiotic reviews.’ The baron shrugged. If it had been anything more than a simple decision, he did not plan to say so. ‘There’s a great deal to do, Jelly,’ he went on. ‘I’m in touch with some multi-faith organisations and I’d love to help them. The clash of religions causes so much trouble, yet at heart they’re all the same. We can build bridges if people can be made to understand, and that’s what I’d like to do next.’

Nobody had asked what Ebba might make of all this, or where she was today.

‘You’ll have to leave the Residence, won’t you?’ Adila said. ‘Will you go back to Sweden?’ Jelly noticed that her fingers were laced tightly together around the base of her wineglass.