‘Apparently I cried more than most-for no reason, according to my mother.’

‘But babies can sense things. You must have known instinctively that she was dissatisfied, wanting to go out and enjoy herself, and your father probably blamed her for his blighted career-prospects.’

She stared at him, awed by this insight.

‘That’s exactly how it was. At least, that’s how Norah says it was. I don’t remember, of course, except that I picked up the atmosphere without knowing why. There was lots of shouting and screaming.

‘It got worse because they both started having affairs. At last they divorced, and I found I didn’t really have a home. I stayed with her, or with him, but I always felt like a guest. If there was a new girlfriend or new boyfriend I’d be in the way and I’d stay with Norah. Then the romance would break up and my mother would cry on my shoulder.’

‘So you became her mother,’ Lang observed.

‘Yes, I suppose I did. And, if that was what romance did to you, I decided I didn’t want it.’

‘But wasn’t there anyone else in your family to show you a more encouraging view of love? What about Norah?’

‘She’s the opposite to them. Her fiancé died years ago. There’s been nobody else for her since, and she’s always told me that she’s perfectly content. She says once you’ve found the right man you can’t replace him with anyone else.’

‘Even when she’s lost him?’

‘But according to Norah she hasn’t lost him. He loved her to the end of his life, so she feels that they still belong to each other.’

‘And you disapprove?’ he asked, frowning a little.

‘It sounds charming, but it’s really only words. The reality is that it’s turned Norah’s life into a desert that’s lasted fifty years.’

‘Perhaps it hasn’t. Do you really know what’s inside her heart? Perhaps it’s given her a kind of fulfilment that we can’t understand.’