It was nearly lunchtime when Jelly arrived home from Eastbourne via Victoria Station. On the steps in her old mink coat, juggling suitcase, violin case, handbag and keys, and listening with delight to Caesar’s piercing welcome-home bark, she caught a glimpse of Mrs Garrett next door, slipping away from an upstairs window. The Garretts did not consider the foreigners at No. 10 entirely suitable people, especially not Jelly, whom they knew was unwed, went on the stage, sponged off her brother-in-law and kept peculiar hours. Jelly smiled and waved. Then came the skittering of Adrienne’s feet on the hall floor and her little niece hurtled out into her arms. ‘Auntie Jeje!’

‘Hush, sweetheart, you’ll scare the neighbours,’ Jelly laughed, dropping everything and lifting her to cover her face with kisses. ‘Oof, what a big girl you are.’ Adrienne gave a giggle, smoothing her cheek against the fur of her aunt’s coat. Caesar charged through the doorway a second later, slobbering with joy all over Jelly’s stockings.

‘Ach, Sai darling, you’re home. Today, I know, there will be a miracle!’ Adila stumped out in her house slippers, calling Jelly by her family nickname – pronounced ‘shy’. Her hair stood out in intense curls around her head. To judge from her look, she had surfaced within the hour.

Jelly put down Adrienne and the sisters swamped each other with hugs and greetings, Adila’s preternaturally dusky. She insisted that when she’d had diphtheria, aged nine, it had affected her voice, pushing it down to the tenor register. ‘Tenor?’ Alec would joke. ‘Baritone, my dear.’ He always insisted he’d fallen in love first with her voice – it resembled his chosen instrument, the cello.

‘You’ve obviously been up for hours,’ Jelly teased her.

‘We had a late dinner after the concert.’ Adila pushed the door open to usher everyone inside. ‘I made boeuf bourguignon. Apron over concert dress, musician to mama in moments, and we danced until two. We missed you, darling – the dancing is never so good without you.’

‘Last night? But Adi… What time was your concert?’

‘So, everyone arrived about 7 for drinks, we began at 7.30, the singer and the pianist did the first half, I did second half with… Sai, have you seen a ghost?’

Jelly’s guts were twisting into a knot out of all proportion to yesterday evening’s minuscule significance. ‘It wasn’t in the afternoon?’

Adila raised an eyebrow. ‘Why?’

‘Nothing, nothing… ’ She changed the subject, fast. ‘Did you hear what happened to me in Hastings? The local conductor had appendicitis, so guess who conducted instead? Adrian Boult!’ She gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘I know it’s not funny really, but I was so pleased to see him.’

‘He is the best of them all.’ Adila scooped Adrienne up into her arms. ‘Adri, darling poppet, come along. Auntie Jeje has to unpack. Let’s take Caesar to the park.’