Since people are not privy to each other’s thoughts and we do not see ourselves as others see us, there was no likelihood of Marianne’s and Shirley’s relationship ever being other than it had always been.

The mutual understanding necessary to friendship had eluded them all their lives and, but for the blood tie, Marianne would not have offered Shirley her company while Laura was in the operating theatre, an impulsive gesture she now regretted.

Shirley returned to the question Marianne had initially asked. ‘Leona said on the phone she hoped I’d stay on in London for Carla’s baby’s Brith.’

The newborn member of the clan was a boy and his ritual circumcision a major event.

‘It would be letting Leona down if I didn’t stay on,’ said Shirley.

Family loyalty again, thought Marianne wryly.

The event fell on a Sunday, which enabled all the Mancunians but Harry to be present.

Notably absent were Leona’s mother and Frank’s twin.

Henry Moritz’s not putting in an appearance did not surprise Leona, though he was currently living no farther away than Rome. As for her mum’s saying on the phone that Mr Pitkin didn’t feel up to flying the Atlantic – how could a brand new husband come before a great-grandson’s Brith?

Leona sat holding her daughter’s hand while the baby was being circumcised in the next room. Waiting for the cry of Mazeltov! from the assembled men to tell them that the deed was done.

‘I can’t bear to think of my baby being hurt,’ Carla said.

‘I imagine all mothers feel that way at this moment,’ said the attractive girl seated on the other side of her, like Carla the wife of a rabbinical student. ‘Well, I certainly did, though I knew like you do that the baby is given something soaked in wine, to suck, so he feels nothing—’

‘And I’ve seen some drunken babies in my time!’ said Ann, whose newly-relaxed demeanour had amazed those who had not seen her since Harry entered the nursing home.

The circumcision ceremony was taking place in the bedroom of the small flat Carla and Alan were renting for the duration of his studies.

‘It’s a good thing women are excluded from the actual Brith,’ Ann remarked, ‘or Alan would’ve had to take down the bed to make space for us.’

‘I’d get claustrophobia if I had to live in this place,’ said Shirley.

Marianne could not resist replying, ‘Where you live doesn’t matter, Shirley, what does is who you live with. If living alone hasn’t taught you that, it has me.’

‘You though,’ Shirley retorted, ‘were lucky enough to have a happy marriage!’

If Shirley thought luck was responsible for that, small wonder that hers had failed.