Leona allowed herself to glance at her brother-in-law, who caught her eye and smiled. The same old handsome charming Henry! But unlike his twin, Frank, the sort who let people down. Leona hadn’t seen him since Sarah’s final birthday party, the last time he did the family the favour of showing up. Frank, on the other hand, had a strong sense of family. But they were not identical twins in any way. Nor would Leona be amazed if, when Henry left Manchester after this visit, he would leave with yet another handout from Frank.

Shirley was thinking that Marianne had a nerve to flaunt that jewellery this afternoon. But Shirley had one satisfaction that Marianne would never have – a Jewish grandchild. Though it would have been better if little Bessie hadn’t appeared as if from nowhere, as unfortunately she had. The six-year-old sandwiched between Shirley and her daughter, Laura, was a real doll, if an overweight one. But who her father was, only Laura knew!

Shirley would never forget the Sabbath tea party, at Sarah’s house, when Laura announced that though marriage was of no interest to her, she had decided to have a child.

Laura’s resembling her mum was limited to her physical appearance, Shirley thought, reliving the ignominy she had publicly suffered via Laura. And she would far rather Laura had settled down to conventional domesticity than be the successful photographer she had become, roving the world camera in hand, her fatherless child left in the care of a housekeeper.

Shirley felt little Bessie’s hand creep into hers and gave the child a warm smile, wondering what her own mother’s reaction might have been to having an illegitimate granddaughter named after her. One who also looked like her, dark haired and sallow. Who hopefully wouldn’t when she grew up still be the pudge her namesake was!

Marianne, whose grandchild was seated beside his father, noted that the boy seemed fascinated by the service and by his surroundings. Like his mother, he was a Catholic, and this the first time he had set foot inside a synagogue. But Judaism as well as Catholicism was his heritage, as his name, Abraham Patrick, implied.

Though Marianne would not have wished him to be raised in the religious vacuum that was the lot of many children of mixed marriages, to later be faced with the adult dilemma of which, if either, religion to espouse, it seemed to her unfair that her daughter-in-law’s devoutness had kept him from enjoying the age-old traditional aspects of his father’s background.

It was not unknown for Gentiles to accept an invitation to a Passover Seder, or a Chanukah party. But when Martin came north to be with his family for a Jewish Festival, Moira would not allow their son to accompany him.