For once, Nathan reflected with a smile, my father stole the scene. Abraham Sandberg had long since let his wife, the indomitable Sarah, take the reins – and what a runaway horse her extended family must eventually have come to seem to her.

Nathan’s middle brother was there, too. But when did mild and gentle Sammy ever make his presence felt? The opposite of David, whose announcing his intention of changing his name to Sanderton had evoked in his father an unprecedented wrath.

Abraham had sprung from his chair to confront David eyeball to eyeball, hurling at him words to the effect that the family name was no longer good enough for his big-businessman son.

It was the one and only time Nathan had ever seen his confident brother quail. But David had nevertheless gone ahead with what he said he was doing for business reasons, lending strength to Abraham’s words.

Thus his son Ronald was Dr Sanderton. But his son would be Rabbi Sandberg. Alan’s decision to study for the rabbinate was coupled with his reverting to the family name.

As though, Nathan thought now, Alan’s dedicating his life to Judaism had made him the more aware of his immigrant forebears and he saw himself as their standard bearer.

A gale of male laughter prodded Nathan from his musing.

‘Mind you,’ the mohel was saying, ‘that was just one of the occasions when I’ve seen a father turn green and faint at his baby’s Brith. Alan, though, bore up remarkably well, he only turned grey! – but it will be some time before his son causes that to happen to his hair. May I please have another slice of that scrumptious gateau?’

‘Thank you for the compliment,’ said Shirley.

‘You actually made it?’

Marianne hoped he would not inquire who made the chopped herring.

The women were grouped around Carla, plates of food in their hands. ‘Another redhead in the clan,’ Shirley remarked, admiring the baby.

‘But his features aren’t Carla’s, they’re Alan’s,’ said Ann.

‘Isn’t it remarkable,’ said Carla’s friend, Tricia, ‘how a baby in the room acts like a magnet for women?’

‘Apart from his having hair my colour, I don’t think he resembles either of us at present,’ said Carla, eyeing him raptly. ‘When my maternity leave ends, I’ll have trouble prising myself away from him to return to work.’

Shirley looked horrified. ‘You’re going to hand over that sweet little thing to a baby minder? Your daughter reminds me of mine, Leona.’

‘I have to work, too, Mrs Kohn,’ Tricia told her. ‘How else would Carla and I get by, married to men who aren’t yet earners? It’s necessary for us to subsidize their grants—’

‘And a fortune they’ll never earn,’ said Shirley, which did not surprise her relatives.