‘Don’t come all pompous with me, Martin,’ warned Mabel, ‘and don’t make me give you another piece of what-for. I’m too fond of you to keep telling you off. Just remember, the girl’s not a dolt. You must find something to keep her occupied.’

What Myrtle and I had in common was the hole in the centre of our lives. She, an only child, had recently lost her mother to cancer; I had lost a father and a best friend. She knew of my tragedies from the newspapers and I of hers from Aunt Mabel. There was not much more to tell, though we spent a long evening alone at Blenheim Terrace recounting grief histories. At the end I felt, as Othello did of Desdemona, that ‘She loved me for the dangers I had pass’d, And I loved her that she did pity them.’

We decided to rebuild love from our ruins. A Freudian analyst would subsequently enlighten me that I had chosen Myrtle principally for the initial consonant of her name: the Ms of Mother, Mabel, Myrtle, Martin (self-love) evoked my infant ego nuzzling at the maternal nipple. I walked out of that session, roaring with mirth. I have read better theories in Woman’s Realm. Anyway, Myrtle was unmaternally small-breasted, even after childbirth.

We married at Bevis Marks, Britain’s oldest and loveliest synagogue, in a Sephardic ceremony conducted by the Haham, or Learned One, with candles borne by six choirboys walking backwards before the bride. ‘ “And he is like a bridegroom coming out of his wedding canopy,” ’ I heard old Jeffries intone, ‘ “rejoicing like a hero to run his course.” ’

Dinner was befittingly at the Dorchester, with Joe Loss’s band and all the trimmings. Half-way through the soup, I noticed an empty seat at the top table.

‘Who’s that for?’ I demanded. Mother counted heads and declared the place setting superfluous. ‘I’ll tell the caterer to remove it,’ she said.

‘No, leave it,’ I cried. ‘It might be there for a purpose.’ In my imagination, I saw Dovidl striding through the door in black tie and tails, elegant as ever, taking his rightful seat at my side. The vision was so unsettling that I could neither sleep that night, nor consummate the marriage.