‘But not at my Seder!’ Jake quipped, coming in on the end of their conversation as everyone flocked to the table and the ancient Jewish ritual finally began.

‘This is the first time I’ve sat at a Seder table without my sister,’ Harry Klein was declaring in Manchester, ‘and how it feels to me is as if our family is cracking up!’

A tear then rolled down his cheek and plopped into his chicken soup. ‘The Londoners will, of course, have started their Seder late, without me to organize them. But I bet they’ll get a better meal than we’re having.’

‘How could you say such a thing, when Mum’s been slaving over the cooker all day!’ Howard exclaimed.

‘If insulting me makes him feel better, he is welcome to upset me,’ said Ann.

‘Nothing makes me feel better!’ Harry retorted. ‘And the truth is I can’t wait for God to end it for me.’

‘What are we to do with him, Uncle?’ Howard said bleakly to Nathan.

‘You,’ Harry accused him, ‘have already done enough! Who was it who brought on my stroke?’

The small gathering fell briefly silent and Leona, seated beside Howard, put a comforting hand on his.

‘The only one who could help your father is unfortunately unwilling to do so,’ Nathan told Howard. ‘Himself.’

Nathan’s friend Sybil then intervened. ‘Isn’t that the case with most people, Nat?’

She received from Harry the first smile seen on his face since he was taken ill.

‘At last, someone who understands!’ he said. ‘All I get from my family is the pity I could do without. If Sybil’s going to be my new aunt, Uncle Nat, that’s fine with me.’

‘But I am in no hurry to acquire a stepmother,’ said Leona.

Sybil said sweetly, ‘That, you’ve made more than plain, dear. Unlike my children, who only want their mother to be happy.’

‘It isn’t their mother I’m concerned about. It’s my father,’ Leona countered smartly.

Sybil fingered one of her gold earrings and appealed to Nathan. ‘Say something, Nat, or I’ll ring up for a cab and leave.’

‘All I’m going to say to my daughter is she’s left it somewhat late to show concern for my happiness. And if anyone leaves, it ought not to be the lady who befriended me when I needed someone.’

‘Now we know where we stand, I’ll stay,’ said Sybil.

‘But I,’ said Leona, ‘don’t intend to be driven from a family Seder by a stranger. If everyone has finished their soup, I’ll help Ann clear away the plates.’

Sybil, she had noted, seemed to take it for granted that others would wait upon her – and had probably been adored by the two husbands she had outlived.