‘I’m sometimes tempted to say I’d like to meet Mary,’ Diana said, chuckling.

‘Sometimes I think it’s inevitable,’ David answered. ‘Sometimes I think you may be spared. The kids are taking it very well so far. I think they’ve known something was going to have to give, and their father is a far more dependable martyr than their mother. He’s letting them be injured parties with him, something that would never occur to Mary. On the whole, her approach is probably the better one, but not so immediately satisfying.’

David was relishing this conversation, Diana could tell, for with her he could be as ironic as he pleased, in danger of hurting no one’s feelings. She could also sense that he felt a good deal more hopeful than he had been on the plane.

‘David, in all this drama, I don’t suppose you’ve picked up anything about Mike. He called me this morning and is coming over to talk at four this afternoon.’

‘No,’ David said, ‘I can’t say that I have. Come to think of it, he was very quiet at dinner last night, but I assumed it was sensible self-protection. Ben talks too much when he’s nervous. Mike shuts up. Even his jokes dry up. His sweet, long-suffering aunt, as full of sighs as Ophelia, is enough to give even an adolescent stomach indigestion.’

So Diana wouldn’t be forewarned, but with Mike she didn’t need to be forearmed.

‘Who was that?’ Constance asked. ‘You were on the phone for twenty minutes. I timed you. I like this little gadget.’

‘The man you think we live with, David, my brother.’

‘Well, when is he coming home?’

‘He didn’t say,’ Diana answered. ‘His children need him for now, but he’ll be over soon to see us. Will you come to the store with me? We need food.’

Diana had baked brownies and put a part of a leg of lamb in the oven by the time Mike arrived. The plate of dark chocolate squares and the pitcher of cold milk momentarily cleared his troubled young face.

‘You better not make a habit of this,’ he said, ‘or I’ll be here every afternoon after school.’

Diana watched him as he ate. He had David’s slight build and would be able to eat into old age without worrying about his weight. But he looked like his father, had his auburn eyes and hair and would have his father’s kind strength when the boyish softness had gone from his face, though he would perhaps stay more vulnerable, not a matter of bone structure so much as his position in the family, the cherished one. Even his brother cherished him.