When they got back, the tree created a small sensation; everyone poured out of the house to greet it, to exclaim, to admire. They carried it into the sitting room, and stood it in the window. Even Hunt admired it, though he did mutter some warning about Kate’s home looking like a second-rate Greek restaurant in Charlotte Street if she wasn’t careful. “That’s exactly the effect I was aiming at,” said Kate, undeterred. More practically, Reuben said he feared the cats might piss in its pot, and pointed out that guests would certainly stub out their cigarettes there unless strictly forbidden to do so. “Never mind,” said Kate, “it has to go in the back garden, really it isn’t supposed to live in the house, but a few days won’t kill it. It’s a hardy tree.”

“Is it time for a drink yet?” asked Hunt. “We should welcome the tree with a drink. With a small libation.”

It wasn’t really time for a drink, it was only half past five, but nevertheless they opened a bottle of party wine, and sat around in amity, chattering of this and that, of which guests would behave badly, of whether or not Joker or the Rastaman would burst into song, and if so, whether each would appreciate the efforts of the other.

“You wait till you see my Rastaman,” said Ruth, “he is the most beautiful man in the whole world, you will love him, Mum.”

“We drink your health, Mark,” said Hunt, raising his glass. “May you flourish, not exactly like the green bay tree as I have done, but in a more godly manner.”

“What’s wrong with my tree?” asked Kate. “It looks healthy enough to me, has she sold me a dud?”

“You clearly don’t know your Book of Common Prayer,” said Hunt.

“No, I don’t, and I’m surprised that you do. I was brought up as an atheist, remember? Anyway, what have bay trees to do with the Book of Common Prayer?”

Hunt explained that the ungodly therein flourished. “Oh dear,” said Kate, staring at her innocent plant, “is it a bad omen?”

“No,” said Hunt, “just a small sign that our common culture is perishing. If you had spent as many years of your youth in church as I did, you would turn out virtuous like me, and like me, you would have the inestimable advantage of knowing the English Hymnal and the Prayer Book off by heart. You can imagine what a strength they have been to me in times of trouble. And none of you can recognise a single quotation.”

“I’m sure Evelyn would know about bay trees,” said Kate, rather offended by these slurs on her learning and her tree. “You must ask Evelyn. Do you do the Prayer Book in Religious Knowledge, Ruth?”

“No,” said Ruth, “we do things like abortion and euthanasia and capital punishment.”

“Modern learning,” said Hunt. “You see where it gets you. Picking up black men in pubs.”