Marcus joined in. ‘She should be dried out really. One of the barmen at The New Yorker said she done a bottle of vodka in an hour the other night. She won’t last long drinking like that.’

‘I always had a lot of time for Kerry, you know that, but if her drinking is as bad as you say, something should be done. I watched my old mum’s liver give out through the drink. She went bright yellow one day, and within a week she was dead.’ Tommy’s voice was low.

Bernie coughed slightly and said, ‘I think he’s right.’

Briony nodded.

‘Well, we’ll have to put it to her. If she won’t go we’ll have no alternative but to have her committed.’

Molly felt her face stiffen. Another daughter sent to a mental home. ‘Oh, she’s not that bad, for goodness’ sakes. She’s not mad, for crying out loud, she just likes a drink.’

‘Oh, Kerry likes a drink all right, a bottle at a time. When she was in France, just after the war, Bessie told me that they had to sober her up every night before her performance. I don’t think it’s so much the drink as the pills she drops with it.’

Molly, her own tongue loosened by drink, said, ‘She’s never been the same since she had that child. That’s what sent her on the drink. Not the singing.’

Unbeknown to her, the twins and Liselle were in the hallway, having let themselves in with a key. They had decided to see if Briony wanted to come out with them. Molly’s voice floated through the door to them and all three stiffened as they heard it. Unaware, Molly carried on.

‘An illegitimate child’s bad enough, but one like that? I ask you?’

Liselle was so still, she looked like a statue made of bronze. Boysie and Danny watched her fascinated.

Briony’s voice broke through their grandmother’s. ‘Shut up, Mum. You’re always the bleeding same with a drink in you! Kerry loves that girl, we all do. No matter where she came from. Now just leave it, all right. Just bloody well leave it!’

Molly stood up. ‘I’ve every right to speak me mind where me own child’s concerned.’

Bernie was trying to placate her. ‘Mum ... Mum ... Sit down. Let’s leave it now. It’s in the past.

Briony walked over to her mother and poked her in the chest. ‘Why do you always do this? A couple of bevvies and you get stroppy. The world according to Molly Cavanagh. You’ve never had any time for Liselle, we all know that. Well, listen to me and listen good. Our Kerry was a fucking saint to keep her, you should be proud of her. Anyone else would have got rid of her quick smart.’