But Anabel had seen them. She came forward in a rush.

‘Ma! How super to see you! No wonder I couldn’t get you on the phone, you were up here with your beau all the time. How are you, Piers darling? This is Aron, Ma, isn’t he exquisite?’ Matilda shook a firm hand. ‘Oh, Ma, what a dress! You do look wonderful, doesn’t she look wonderful?’ Her great eyes swivelled from John to her escort. ‘Wonderful!’

‘Won’t you join us?’

‘Oh, no, darling, we can’t. We only came in for a drink. How is home? How is Stub? How is Prissy?’

‘They have both been dead for a long time.’ Matilda felt no anger.

‘And Gus?’

‘He’s alive.’

‘He’ll be next then, won’t he?’ Anabel let out the words with a yelp of laughter.

When Anabel and her man had gone Matilda began to laugh. ‘It’s the surprise! The surprise I have every time I meet her that I in my belly created that girl.’

John grinned.

‘How long has she been in London? You always know everything.’

‘About three months.’

‘Little bitch. Couldn’t get me on the phone. I suppose the others have been over too?’

‘Not Claud, I haven’t seen him.’

‘His teeth are better than Anabel’s and he doesn’t go about with his mouth open. He telephoned me, you needn’t cover for him.’

‘Don’t be a cat, Matty. Anabel probably has adenoids. You’re her mother, you should have seen to them. How long is he here for?’

‘Girls with protruding teeth always get men, it makes them look amiable. Oh, Claud – he went to Yorkshire.’

‘Have another drink.’

‘I see why people become alcoholics. They learn to accept. No thank you, no more.’

‘You must learn to accept your children.’

‘Why should I?’ Matilda was suddenly extremely angry. ‘Why? I don’t like any of them except Claud. Let them come to my funeral. I don’t want you but I do want them. How dare she not know about Stub and Prissy?’

‘Perhaps you didn’t tell her.’

‘I’m sure I didn’t.’

‘Well then.’

‘Well nothing. I want to go home.’

‘We will.’ John waved to the waiter. ‘I’ll take you home.’

‘Not yours, mine. I must get back. It’s nothing but stab, stab, stab in London.’ In an unconscious gesture Matilda cupped her breasts in her hands, then folded them in front of her on the table.

‘D’you know that someone somewhere put his hands over my breasts and said, “Chimborazo Catapaxi has stolen my heart –”’

‘I should think lots of chaps did.’ John was signing the bill and counting money for the tip. ‘That was one of the poems our generation quoted like A Shropshire Lad and one or two particular sonnets we’d done at school.’