When Emma's mother Elizabeth went into hospital for a checkup, she tried to reassure her daughter that there was nothing to worry about, and told her she wasn't to tell Harry or the children because it would only make them anxious.

It certainly made Emma anxious and, as soon as she returned to Barrington Hall, she phoned Giles at the House of Commons, and then her sister in Cambridge. They both dropped everything and caught the next train to Bristol.

'Let's hope I'm not wasting your time,' said Emma after she'd picked them up from Temple Meads.

'Let's hope you are wasting our time,' Grace replied.

Giles appeared preoccupied and stared out of the window as they continued their journey to the hospital in silence.

Even before Mr Langbourne had closed the door to his office, Emma sensed the news wasn't going to be good.

'I wish there was an easy way to tell you this,' the specialist said once they'd sat down, 'but I'm afraid there isn't. Dr Raeburn, who's been your mother's GP for several years, carried out a routine check-up, and when he got the results of his tests, he referred her to me in order that I could carry out a more detailed examination.'

Emma clenched her fists, something she used to do as a schoolgirl whenever she was nervous or in trouble.

'Yesterday,' continued Mr Langbourne, 'I received the results from the clinical lab. They confirmed Dr Raeburn's fears: your mother has breast cancer.'

'Can she be cured?' was Emma's immediate response.

'There is no cure at present for someone of her age,' said Langbourne. 'Scientists are hoping for a breakthrough at some time in the future, but I fear that won't be soon enough for your mother.'

'Is there anything we can do?' asked Grace.

Emma leant across and took her sister's hand.

'During this time, she will need all the love and support you and the family can give her. Elizabeth is a remarkable woman, and after all she has been through, she deserves better. But she's never once complained  -  not her style. She's a typical Harvey.'

'How long will she be with us?' asked Emma.

'I fear,' said Langbourne, 'that it will be a matter of weeks, rather than months.'

'Then there's something I have to tell her,' said Giles, who hadn't spoken until then.

The shoplifting incident, as it came to be known at St Bede's, turned Sebastian from a bit of a loner into something of a folk hero, and boys who previously wouldn't have bothered with him invited him to join their gangs. Harry began to believe this might be a turning point, but when he told Sebastian that his grandmother only had a few weeks to live, the boy crept back into his shell.

Jessica had begun her first term at Red Maids'. She worked far harder than Sebastian, but didn't come top in any subject. The art mistress told Emma it was a pity that painting wasn't a recognized subject, because Jessica had more talent at the age of eight than she herself had shown in her final year at college.

Emma decided not to repeat this conversation to Jessica but to allow the child to discover for herself just how talented she was in the fullness of time. Sebastian regularly told her she was a genius, but what did he know? He also thought Stanley Matthews was a genius.

A month later, Sebastian failed three of his mock papers, taken only weeks before the BGS entrance exams. Neither Harry nor Emma felt they could chastise him while he was so distressed about his grandmother's condition. He would accompany Emma to the hospital every afternoon after she picked him up from school, climb on to his grandmother's bed and read to her from his favourite book until she fell asleep.

Jessica painted a new picture for Granny every day, and dropped it off at the hospital the following morning before Harry took her on to school. There were only a few blank spaces left on the walls of her private gallery by the end of term.

Giles missed several three-line whips, Grace countless tutorials, Harry endless deadlines, and Emma sometimes failed to reply to Cyrus Feldman's weekly letters. But it was Sebastian who Elizabeth most looked forward to seeing every day. Harry couldn't be sure who benefited more from the experience, his son or his mother-in-law.

It didn't help that Sebastian had to take his exam for Bristol Grammar School while his grandmother's life was ebbing away.

The outcome was as the headmaster of St Bede's had predicted, mixed. His Latin, French, English and maths papers were of scholarship level, while he barely made the pass mark in history, failed narrowly in geography, and scored just 9 per cent in his natural sciences paper.

Dr Hedley called Harry at Barrington Hall moments after the results had been posted on the school notice board.

'I'll have a private word with John Garrett, my opposite number at BGS,' he said, 'and remind him that Sebastian scored a hundred per cent in Latin and maths, and will almost certainly be scholarship material by the time it comes for him to go to university.'

'You might also remind him,' said Harry, 'that both his uncle and I were at BGS, and his grandfather, Sir Walter Barrington, was chairman of the governors.'

'I don't think he'll need reminding,' said Hedley. 'But I will point out that Sebastian's grandmother was in hospital while he was taking the exams. All we can do is hope he backs my judgement.'

He did. Dr Hedley called Harry at the end of the week to say that the headmaster of BGS would be recommending to the board that, despite Sebastian failing two of the set papers, he should still be offered a place at BGS for the Michaelmas term.

'Thank you,' said Harry. 'That's the first good news I've had in weeks.'

'But,' Hedley added, 'he reminded me that in the end it will be the board's decision.'

Harry was the last person to visit his mother-in-law that night, and was just about to leave when Elizabeth whispered, 'Can you stay for a few more minutes, my dear? There's something I need to discuss with you.'

'Yes, of course,' said Harry, sitting back down on the edge of the bed.

'I spent the morning with Desmond Siddons, our family lawyer,' Elizabeth said, stumbling over each word, 'and I wanted to let you know that I've executed a new will, because I can't bear the thought of that dreadful woman Virginia Fenwick getting her hands on any of my possessions.'

'I don't think that's a problem any longer. We haven't seen or heard from Virginia for weeks, so I assume it's all over.'

'The reason you haven't seen or heard from her for weeks, Harry, is because she wants me to believe it's all over. It's not a coincidence that she disappeared from the scene only days after Giles learned I didn't have long to live.'

'I'm sure you're overreacting, Elizabeth. I don't believe even Virginia could be that callous.'

'My dear Harry, you always give everyone the benefit of the doubt because you have such a generous nature. It was a lucky day for Emma when she met you.'

'It's sweet of you to say so, Elizabeth, but I'm sure that given time - '

'That's the one thing I don't have.'

'Then perhaps we should ask Virginia to come and visit you?'

'I've made it clear to Giles on several occasions that I'd like to meet her, but each time I've been rebuffed with more and more unlikely excuses. Now, why do you think that is? Don't bother to answer, Harry, because you'll be the last person to work out what Virginia's really up to. And you can be sure she won't make her move until after my funeral.' A flicker of a smile crossed Elizabeth's face before she added, 'But I still have one card up my sleeve, which I don't intend to play until I've been lowered into my grave, when my spirit will return like an avenging angel.'