“There was once a very rich king,” he begins, and because this is the beginning of a story that we all love, there are smiles and coos, and even Nanna gives a thin smile as she comes back to the table. “Yes, a very rich king,” says Jorzy. “He was so rich he could order ten men to lift him out of his bed and into his rolling chair so that he could be pushed around the palace.”

Babet giggles. Even Ma is smiling.

“Every day this king spent his entire day eating.” A sigh issues from Marina’s end of the table. “You may think this a marvellous thing, to eat all day,” says Jorzy, knowing that it’s exactly what all of us are thinking, “but let me tell you that the king didn’t think so. You see, many years before, he had been cursed by a wicked mensha, who put a spell on him. As long as he was awake, he had to eat – all of the time. He ate and ate and ate until his kingdom grew very poor, because he was eating all of the food. He ate so much that eventually the villagers decided something had to be done. Somehow, the curse had to be lifted, so the old king they knew and loved would come back to them and things could be normal again.”

Jorzy sent smoke up to the ceiling again. “The more they talked about it, the more hopeless it seemed. The villagers didn’t know what to do. Until one day somebody stood up and suggested they find the mensha who put the spell on the king, and kill her. That got them all going, as you can imagine – find the mensha! I don’t need to tell you,” he says, casting his gaze around the table of rapt faces, “how dangerous these things are. Half-woman, half-snake, the mensha will strike down a man at a hundred paces. Sometimes she will simply cast a spell, like she did with the king, to punish somebody and make him suffer. But if she is hungry, then she will kill you with a single look and swallow you whole.”

“Jorzy,” warns Ma, probably thinking of Babet, who already tends to have bad dreams. Even Marina’s eyes are large, and she’s eighteen. Personally, I’d like to meet one of these mythical creatures and find out her secrets.

Jorzy continues as if he hasn’t heard our mother, although he stops going on about the mensha. “So anyway,” he says, “this kid – who looked a lot like Leho over there–”