Marianne’s marrying a Gentile had contributed to the many almonds that Sarah had been obliged to chew and swallow. I’m surprised that Shirley didn’t throw that at me, too, she had thought on the day her cousin’s animosity towards her was made overtly plain. Though she and Shirley had never got on well, Marianne had not felt, until they stood with Sarah’s jewellery spilled on the table between them, that Shirley hated her.

‘Just because you look like Grandma, you’ve always been her favourite!’ Shirley had finally flared.

Marianne had let that pass. It was not just her looks that she had inherited from Sarah, but in some respects her character, also. Like Sarah, Marianne had found herself capable of bending with the wind of change. And she too was equipped by Nature with the strength to see a difficult situation through.

These were Marianne’s thoughts and recollections as she tried to decide whether or not to wear Sarah’s ring and brooch for the window-consecration ceremony. The pieces themselves were not what the confrontation was about, and Marianne had felt sorry for Shirley, a wealthy woman who, time and again, had been made to realize that there are things that money can’t buy.

Two more telephone calls, both from motorway service station call boxes, cut short Marianne’s rumination.

The first, from her Tory MP brother, Arnold, resulted in one of their usual tiffs. ‘I’m on the M1, Marianne. Something I had to sort out for my constituency manager delayed me.’

‘And that’s more important than what you’re coming to Manchester for?’

‘Look – it’s snowing like hell, I’ve got a terrible cold, and I’m doing my best to get there in time! But I might not.’

‘The one you should be letting know is your wife.’

‘Lyn and I aren’t on speaking terms at present.’

‘What have you done to upset her now?’ Marianne demanded. But her brother had rung off, and she visualized him stomping to his car, the picture of self-righteousness, his thinning hair sent awry by the wind.

The second call, from her son, was to assure her that he would arrive in time. Were Martin’s wife and child with him? Marianne brushed that doubt aside and cast another glance at the still swirling snowflakes, thankful that Martin had got as far as the M6.

Suddenly, it was as important to her as to Uncle Nat that every member of the family be present today. Nor would her grandmother have been surprised to know it.

She slipped Sarah’s ring on her finger and pinned the meaningful little brooch to her scarf.

Nathan Sandberg was blowing a speck of dust from the sideboard when Bridie entered the room.