“What inspired this particular missive?”

“Oh, that piece I wrote about those women who go round Soho claiming to Reclaim the Night, I suppose. Did you read it?”

“I can’t say I did.”

“You didn’t miss much, it was very indecisive. But it’s not very nice, is it? From one’s own brother?”

“And yet you say that when you meet him he’s perfectly friendly?”

“Yes. He is. But he must hate me, to write like that. It’s not very nice to be hated. But I suppose I just have to resign myself to it.”

“Perhaps he only hates you with a part of himself. Perhaps he needs to hate you.”

“Well I suppose it doesn’t really hurt me. Or not very much. At least I don’t lie awake at nights worrying about him any more. In fact, I don’t lie awake much at all, these days. I’ve been sleeping so much better, this last month or two. I can’t tell you what a relief it is.”

“Time heals all. As I said.”

“Yes. Perhaps.”

“You should have agreed to come to Bagdad with me.”

“Another day, Hugo, another day.”

Hugo, who had been inspecting Peter’s note closely, looked up at Kate, whose face, despite her words, betrayed deep hurt, and said: “You know where he cut these letters out from? From our very own paper, I’d say, wouldn’t you?”

Kate took the note, looked at it, and nodded agreement. “Yes, of course, I never thought of looking for that. Our own inimitable typography. From our poor dead paper.” The discovery cheered her, animated her a little.

“Well, what a swine,” she said. “I call that really low. He probably cut them out of my very own piece. I think that’s rotten. Like stewing an octopus in its own ink. Or a kid in its mother’s milk. If you see what I mean.”

“It’s not your fault he’s mad.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No more than it’s my mother’s fault that I am.”

“Well, that’s not saying much.” And they both laughed.

“Well,” said Kate, “the next generation will have to do better. I pin my faith on the next generation. I’m looking forward to meeting Mark’s girlfriends. He’s got two, did you know? Is that the modern thing?”

“Sebastian and Susanna seem to be getting together these days, had you heard that? Apparently they’re on the phone to one another day and night. Or so Judith says.”

“Oh,” said Kate, who had not thought that Judith ever spoke to Hugo, and who slightly resented hearing any gossip she had not invented herself, and who was pleased to find herself suffering from such normal irritations. “And what does Judith think of that?”

“Judith thinks it will interfere with Susanna’s A levels.”

“Nothing will interfere with Susanna’s A levels. She is a girl of strong character, that one. She will be very good for Sebastian.” Kate forbore to say that Susanna was working for two, though this is what they were both thinking.