Sacha finished her dinner and took her plate and fork into the kitchen where she washed them up. She ran the water again until it turned cool, feeling guilty about the waste all the while, and filled up a glass which she took back into the main part of her flat.

Hannah, meanwhile, was helping herself to a second glass of wine. "May I have another meat-ball, please" she asked quietly. Her mother passed the plate to her.

There was silence for a while, as Hannah and Isaac and their mother all chewed on their food tensely. "What have you been doing lately, honey?" asked Hannah's mother eventually.

"Nothing, mama" said Hannah wearily.

"All right, I was only asking!" replied her mother defensively. "Have you been to synagogue recently?"

Hannah sighed. It was the same question her mother always asked her.

"Why don't you come with me this weekend" her mother continued.

"I can't, mama. I'm working all weekend."

"Tsk." Hannah's mother shook her head. "Working on the Shabath" she said quietly.

Hannah kept her head lowered towards her plate. "I know, mama, I know." There was silence again.

(In Fitzroy, Sacha switched off the overhead light in the main room of her light. She sat curled up on the chair, a scarf wrapped around her neck to protect against the draught that blew through the gap underneath the window, and read the book she'd selected earlier: a history of the Victorian goldfields, which was a left-over textbook from her university days but which still provided her with some interest on quiet nights. The clock on the wall ticked comfortingly, reminding her of the times she'd stay up late at night back home, long after her parents and her sister had gone to bed.)

Hannah's mother moved to clear the table. "It's okay mama, I've got it" replied Hannah as she started stacking the dishes. She turned to her brother. "It wouldn't kill you to help once in a while, you know."

"Oh, leave him be" said her mother. "I'm happy to do it." Hannah opened her mouth to protest, but her mother cut her off: "Don't start with me, Hannah. Please." She took the dishes from Hannah.

Over dessert, Isaac said: "I've got a friend who wants to meet you. I'll give you his number, you should give him a call."

Hannah looked at him disbelievingly for a moment, and then turned angrily to her mother. "Did you put him up to this?" she demanded.

"Why don't you just give it a try?" said her mother politely but forcefully. "You've never even tried going out with a boy." She took a mouthful of dessert. "And please don't raise your voice to me."

Hannah threw her spoon down: food splashed onto the tablecloth. "You're fucking unbelievable!" she shouted. "I thought just once we might be able to have a normal meal without you trying to 'fix' me. How fucking stupid am I?"

"Don't talk to her like that" said Isaac.

Hannah turned to him. Once again the thought flashed through her mind: when did I start to lose his sympathy? She could feel her eyes starting to redden, her face starting to get hot. She stood up and sniffled. "I'm leaving" she managed to say quickly and quietly. She turned around and grabbed her coat from the hallway, and was out the door just as her throat started to convulse.

In her flat, Sacha yawned widely, shut her book, cleaned her teeth, and went to bed.