Marion felt drained. ‘Do you have rats?’

‘No, but we will. You mark my words.’

She sighed. ‘Mother, why are you phoning me?’

‘To see that you got my presents.’

‘They came yesterday. I have them here. Delightful.’ She looked over at the three lace doilies on the kitchen table. ‘Very pretty.’

‘I wish you had rung up yesterday to let me know they’d been delivered.’

‘Mother, I have to go. Thank you so much for the doilies and for telephoning. Send my love to Dad. Goodbye.’ She put the phone down, slumped into a kitchen chair and laid her head on the cool of the table.

She would have stayed like that all day if she could, but she heard George’s footsteps above and the flush of the lavatory, so she pulled herself together and began to make breakfast.

George was never his best in the morning, and today was no exception, but she knew what irritated him and what didn’t. Appeasement was becoming her middle name.

‘Good morning, dear.’ She smiled brightly. ‘Sit down and I’ll bring you your breakfast. Full Scottish?’

By lunchtime, fed and watered, George was in a much better state, and insisted that he take her to the pub for a birthday lunch.

She agreed as if it were the very best of ideas.

She was expecting to be taken to his local on Kensington High Street. She heard a lot about the friends he had made there, and she didn’t think she liked the sound of any of them. But he surprised her, pleasantly, by suggesting a small pub on the Thames.

‘We can sit outside in the beer garden and watch the pleasure boats go by. Let’s walk.’

‘How thoughtful.’ She smiled. ‘Thank you.’

He took her hand as they walked and was more like the old George. Marion began to relax. ‘Mother called this morning.’

‘Did she?’

‘She wanted to know if I was looking after you.’

He chuckled. ‘Bless your mother.’

‘Mm. She said that now I am a year away from forty, there would be no hope of having children.’

He winked. ‘We’ll prove her wrong.’

‘George, would you really like a child?’

He squeezed her hand. ‘I’d like to talk to you about that. I think the reason why it hasn’t happened yet is because of the long hours you work. You are always so tired. You have given everything to that family but the time has come for you to leave them.’

Marion started, taken aback. ‘What?’

‘My dear, perhaps it’s time that you retire.’

‘I don’t think I can—’

‘Oh yes you can. You have worked with them for eighteen years and never put yourself first.’

‘There was the abdication and the war and—’

‘Ssh.’ He stopped walking and put an index finger to her lips. ‘No more. It’s time for you and me to put us, and our future family, first. I had an overseas call from Bruce Gould in the week.’

‘You didn’t say.’