‘Look at him,’ said Alice. She nodded to the photograph on the sideboard of Grandpa Wilcox in uniform. ‘Look at him watching us all.’

‘We’re going to the house, right?’ asked Kirsty.

The visit had been arranged the previous week. Larry had managed to contact the couple who lived there now, Rupert and Stephanie Gadd. When Larry had explained things they were understanding, Rupert Gadd promising to be ‘on stand-by’ the following Sunday. Apparently they were just back from Italy.

‘I remember Granny Wilcox showing me Grandpa’s medal,’ said Larry. ‘You remember it, Alec?’

‘The DSO.’

‘Is that like a Purple Heart or something?’

‘The Distinguished Service Order,’ said Alec.

‘Wow.’

‘Where is it now?’ asked Larry.

‘Arnhem,’ said Alice. She had put some rice on to her fork but hadn’t actually eaten anything. ‘Saved his sergeant. Saved him completely.’

‘I guess he was the real thing,’ said Kirsty.

Larry drew the cork on a bottle of Montepulciano. He was the only one drinking.

‘Go easy today,’ said Kirsty in a low voice.

Larry smiled at her. ‘Do you know what side your Grandfather was on? Old man Friebergs?’

‘Je-sus,’ said Kirsty, rolling her eyes.

‘Latvians fought with the Nazis,’ explained Larry.

‘They had more reason to hate Russians than Germans,’ said Alec.

‘How’s your guy?’ asked Kirsty.

‘Lázár? He might have shot a few Russians, I suppose.’

‘I think it was called the Condor legion,’ said Larry. ‘Is that right? Or the White Eagles. A kind of Latvian SS.’

Kirsty glared across the table. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. And my father fought in Korea, so don’t you dare say my family are some kind of Nazis.’

Ella, who had shown no interest in her risotto, asked if she could have a banana. Larry said no, but Kirsty took one from the fruit bowl and peeled it for her.

‘I hate this kind of talk,’ she said. ‘I don’t want Ella to even have to think about it.’

‘A great American tradition,’ said Larry. He pushed away his plate and reached for his glass, but the wine was too light. He needed a real drink. He needed to get out.

‘Granny’s crying,’ said Ella.

It was true. Head bowed over her uneaten supper, one sticky tear had made it to the end of Alice’s nose.

‘Hey, hey ... what is it?’ Kirsty went to her and put her arm around her shoulders. She sounded close to tears herself. ‘Are you tired? Huh?’

Larry crouched on the other side of the chair. Alice was saying something but he couldn’t understand her.

‘You want to rest a little?’ asked Kirsty. ‘You want to go back upstairs?’

‘She’s just come down,’ said Larry.

‘For Chrissakes! If she wants to go back up. You want to go back up, Alice?’

Alice sniffed. ‘So sorry,’ she said. ‘What a mess.’