Elspeth thanked her. ‘It’s exciting,’ she said. ‘For both of us.’

‘Triplets,’ said the assistant. ‘That’s probably why you fainted. Anyway, I’m going to phone the ambulance people and call them off. All right?’

‘I suppose so,’ said Matthew. ‘Although I do wish you’d go and be checked up on. People shouldn’t faint just like that.’

The assistant went back into the kitchen to make the call, leaving Matthew and Elspeth in the drawing room.

‘I’d like to look at the rest of the flat,’ said Elspeth. ‘I really like this place, you know. That lovely garden. This room. Everything, so far.’

Matthew took her arm solicitously. ‘You should hold on to me,’ he said.

‘Oh, Matthew! Don’t be ridiculous. I’m unlikely to faint again. I’m fine.’

He looked doubtful, but relinquished his grip. ‘Please be careful.’

‘I shall.’ She smiled at him. He cared so much for her, and if that meant that he fussed a bit, then that was better than the opposite, an indifferent husband. Would it last forever, she wondered; would he be like this when they were middle-aged, and beyond? She imagined that it would; Matthew was not fickle in any way, she had noticed that.

They heard the solicitor’s assistant on the telephone. ‘No, she’s absolutely fine. It was just a faint. About thirty seconds, I think. Yes, I’ll tell them they should go the health centre. Thank you.’

‘I don’t need to see the doctor,’ said Elspeth. ‘You don’t go to the doctor every time you faint. Victorian and Edwardian women fainted regularly – every day, didn’t they?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Matthew. ‘I don’t see why they should have done that.’

‘Because it was considered ladylike,’ said Elspeth. ‘If you fainted a lot, it showed that you were a person of refined temperament. The world was just all too much, and so you fainted. You fainted if you saw something unpleasant.’

‘Like Aunt Ada,’ said Matthew. ‘Remember? Ada Doom in Cold Comfort Farm. She saw something nasty in the woodshed and never recovered.’

Elspeth smiled. ‘I always wondered what it was.’

‘Best not to ask,’ said Matthew. He opened a cupboard on the landing. ‘Nothing nasty inside,’ he said.

They went into the first of the bedrooms.

‘So restful,’ said Elspeth. ‘Look at that lovely wallpaper, Matthew. Chinoiserie.’

Matthew looked at the wall behind the bed. The wallpaper was of a pale green shade; the design, which was Chinese in style, depicted delicately rendered birds perching on twigs and branches; a tiny bird, one of those birds so small that they would disappear within the clenched fist, balanced upon a wisp of grass.

‘This is where we’ll sleep,’ whispered Elspeth.