“It’s a secret recipe,” Jim said. “Mother made it. She’ll pass the recipe to you when our children are old enough to marry. It’s another tradition.”

“I think it’s unhygienic,” Maggie said. “ Everyone drinking out of the same old bowl. Take care that the children don’t get at it.”

“It’s the Cup,” Jim said. Sarah could not tell whether his reverence was genuine or mocking. It was on the table: a large silver bowl with a handle at each side. “No one knows when it first came to Kinness. There are all sorts of legends. It’s used at every wedding. We take it round to share a drink with every guest. It’s supposed to bring us luck.”

Soon after Sarah realized that she was drunk. Later she was to remember the evening as a series of events brought suddenly into sharp focus, and the rest, even the time before she started to drink from the Cup, was a blur of loud music and dancing people. It was like a peculiar game of musical statues, except that often, at her times of clarity, the music continued.

So, she retained an image of Alec giving his best man’s speech, leering at the guests across a laden table as he described in graphic detail what he had wished for Jim and his new wife.

She remembered Jim dancing the Eightsome Reel, poised like an African warrior with his pulled-in buttocks and bent knees, but moving only to take a woman in his arms, the woman whom everyone thought he should marry.

She remembered seeing that woman later as they went round the room with the Cup. She had a picture of Elspeth Dance standing like a statue, staring at them with blue eyes as they approached her with the drink, and remembered the conversation between Jim and Elspeth as though it were taking place a long way off.

“Hello Elspeth,” her husband said. “ I didn’t realize that you were back.”

“I thought that you were surprised to see me.”

“How long have you been home?”

“Not long. I don’t know whether I shall stay. I’m not committed to anything.”

Sarah thought that she must have been introduced to Elspeth and that they had drunk together from the Cup, but that was all part of the blur.

There was another image of Mary, dancing with Robert, the old man. Despite his limp he was keeping up with her and they were laughing together.

And another of Elspeth, standing on the stage, singing unaccompanied while the band rested. She had a deep and husky voice, and she sang a love song.