'Say again?' said Ted.

'Ari. My name.'

'Hello,' said Ted. 'I'm Ted. Nice to meet you.'

'Ari and Deborah are engaged to be married,' said Israel's mother.

'Oh,' said Ted. 'Congratulations.'

'Ted works in information services over in Ireland with Israel,' explained Israel's mother.

Ari and Deborah exchanged amused glances.

'Really?' said Ari. 'Information services? I'd be very interested to know about that. I'm kind of in information services myself.'

'Ari works in financial PR,' said Israel's mother.

'Oh,' said Ted.

'He's very successful.'

'Oh,' said Ted.

'Paprika chicken, Ari? And Ted, perhaps I can tempt you?'

For someone who was very successful Ari ate as though he hadn't eaten in a long time-or maybe that's just how very successful people eat, like tramps or emperors; determined, heedless. Ari paused from stuffing himself only to heap absurd, lavish praise upon Israel's mother's cooking, and to provoke and dominate conversation, and to share sly whispered asides with Israel's sister. Israel had fantasised for months about returning to his family. And this was it. This was his family. This was home.

Oh God.

'So, Israel, you followed this business in Lebanon?' said Ari, mid-forkful. 'What do you think?'

'I don't know,' said Israel. 'What do you think?'

Ari knew full well what Israel would think. And Israel knew full well what Ari would think.

'You get the news okay over there then?' said Ari.

'We manage,' said Israel. He didn't want to admit that he was mostly listening to BBC Radio Ulster and reading the Impartial Recorder.

'I'm trying to wean your mother here off the Daily Mail.'

'I like Melanie Phillips,' said Israel's mother.

'My aunt knows Melanie Phillips,' said Ari.

'Yes, his aunt knows Melanie Phillips,' said Israel's mother.

'I like to read The Times, the Telegraph and the FT every day. To get a rounded view of things,' said Ari, who didn't talk so much as make statements and request information.

'I'm sure you do,' said Israel.

'I read the Telegraph,' said Ted.

'That's the Belfast Telegraph,' said Israel.

'Oh,' said Ari.

'So, Israel, you haven't answered the question, what should we do in Lebanon?' said Deborah.

'I think we should pull out, of course,' said Israel.

'Well, well,' said Deborah. 'There's a surprise.'

'And I think all Israelis should come out and protest.'

'Like that'd help,' said Deborah.

'It'd be a show of solidarity.'

'Now, I hope we're not getting into politics?' said Israel's mother.

'It's not politics, Mum,' said Israel.

'I do apologise, Eva,' said Ari.

'That's okay, Ari,' said Israel's mother. 'More chicken?'

'Yes, please. Delicious.'

'Are there any more mushrooms?' asked Israel.

'No, sorry,' said his mother.

'Ted,' said Ari. 'I'm sure you must have an interesting perspective on things, coming from Northern Ireland.'

'On mushrooms?' said Israel.

'On the situation in Lebanon. Obviously,' said Deborah.

'One man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter,' said Israel's mother. 'That's what your father used to say.'

Ted picked at his chicken bones.

'Ted?' said Ari.

'I…' began Ted, blushing.

'How anyone could think it was okay to plant a bomb and kill people,' said Israel's mother.

'As they're drinking a cup of coffee or on their way to work,' said Deborah.

'Exactly,' said Israel's mother. 'Disgraceful.'

Ted was flushed, and coughed, and adjusted himself awkwardly in his chair.

'Are you okay, Ted?' said Israel's mother.

'Fine, thank you.'

'I blame Tony Blair,' said Israel.

'Tony Blair?' said Ari. 'For Lebanon?'

'Evil man,' said Israel.

'Evil?' said Ari. 'He's not evil.'

'He is evil.'

'What, the same as Hitler or Stalin or Saddam Hussein were evil?' said Ari.

'No, of course not,' said Israel.

'So in what sense evil?' said Ari, stroking his luxuriant hair. 'Like who? Like Jeffrey Dahmer was evil?'

'Don't be silly,' said Israel.

'Israel, please, treat our guests with respect,' said his mother.

'I am treating him with respect,' said Israel. 'He's not-'

'It's okay, Eva,' said Ari. 'I hardly think Israel and I are ever going to agree over the Middle East.'

There was a suggestion here in what Ari said, and the way in which he said it-coolly and calmly-that this was in some way Israel's fault.

'It's just, I'm very'-Ari continued, spearing another chicken thigh-'very suspicious of this whole anti-Israel lobby.'

'I'm not anti-Israel,' said Israel.

'Really?'

'And I'm not part of a lobby. I just think people should be allowed to criticise Israel when it's made a mistake. Like, for example, going into Lebanon and committing atrocities.'

'Israel, Israel,' said Ari patriarchally. 'You know, it's funny, I do often find it's self-hating Jews who make these wild accusations about the-'

'They're not wild accusations,' said Israel. 'And maybe I am a self-hating Jew, because-'

'You're not a self-hating Jew,' said Deborah. 'You're a self-hating person.'

'Children!' said Israel's mother. 'Ted doesn't want to hear this, do you, Ted?'

Ted smiled, non-committally.

'Coffee everyone?'

Israel helped his mother take the dishes through to the kitchen, leaving Ted to battle it out alone over Lebanon with Ari and Deborah.

'So, where's Gloria?' she asked, when they were alone together in the kitchen.

'She's just texted,' said Israel. 'She's having to finish some work.'

'But she knew you were coming back tonight?'

'Yes, it's just something she couldn't get out of.'

'I see.'

'Mother, let's not get started on Gloria.'

Israel's mother didn't trust Gloria.

'I'm not getting started on anything. So, you've not met any nice girls over in Ireland?'

'Mother!'

'I'm only asking.'

'Well, anyway, no, I haven't. Not really.'

'Not really? Does that mean yes?'

'No!'

'Well. He's lovely, though, isn't he?' said Israel's mother.

'Who? Ari?'

'No! Ted.'

'Ted?' said Israel.

'Yes,' said Israel's mother. 'I think he's very charming.'

'Ted? Charming?' Israel thought back to when he'd arrived in Tumdrum and Ted had physically threatened him on a number of occasions. 'Ted is certainly a lot of things, Mother,' he said, 'but I hardly think charming is one of them.'

'I do like his accent.'

'His accent?'

'It's very cute, isn't it?'

'He's Northern Irish.'

'Yes, I know. Reminds me of your father.'

'Dad was from Dublin.'

'Well, it's the same sort of thing, isn't it? It's all an accent.'

'Mother! It's not the same thing at all.'

'He's a big hog of a man, though, isn't he?'

'What?' said Israel.

'Ted. How old is he, do you know?'

'No! I've got no idea how old he is. Seventy?'

'Don't be silly, Israel, he's not seventy. I'd place him early sixties. So he'd be about the same age as me, maybe a little older. He's really very well preserved, isn't he?'

'Mother!'

'He reminds me of Leo Fuld.'

'Who?'

'The singer. "Wo Ahin Soll Ich Geh'n".'

'I'm sorry, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about.'

'I don't know,' said Israel's mother. 'Young people. Where did we go wrong?'

'Maybe you've just got old?'

'Thank you.'

'Don't mention it.'

'Anyway, come on, make yourself useful and take this tray.'

They returned with coffee-proper coffee!-and dessert. Israel's mother's desserts were much better than her main courses.

There was a good reason for this.

'This is delicious,' said Ted, once they'd started in on dessert. 'What is this?'