Bertie did not believe this entirely, as Tofu was known to be a terrible liar. But there were many things that one did not really believe that one did not want to disbelieve, just in case they might be true – which they clearly were not, of course. There was stepping on lines for thing, and then there was Santa Claus. He did not exist – obviously – but if one stopped believing in him – if one professed disbelief – then there was a risk, surely, that one might get no presents.

He sighed. They were now at Dr St Clair’s door, and Irene was poised, ready to press the door bell.

‘Mummy,’ he said. ‘Wouldn’t it be funny if you had another baby and …’

Irene looked down at him with amusement. ‘Mummy is not going to do that, Bertie! Two boys are quite enough.’

‘No, what I was going to say was: wouldn’t it be funny if you had another baby and he looked like Dr St Clair – just like Ulysses looks like Dr Fairbairn.’

Irene bent down. ‘Bertie,’ she hissed. ‘What did Mummy tell you? Never, ever say things like that. They are very, very rude, Bertie!’

‘But you always said I should say what I’m thinking,’ protested Bertie. ‘You did.’

‘Always doesn’t mean always, Bertie – you should know that. Always means generally. And sometimes it means never. Just remember that.’

53. An Offer is Made

After he put down the telephone on the conversation with his lawyer, Matthew went into the kitchen, where he found Elspeth sitting at the table, a cup of tea in front of her.

‘I’ve done it,’ said Matthew.

‘Put in the offer?’

Matthew nodded, and sat down. He felt light-headed; Elspeth had already fainted that day and he wondered whether he would be next. If he did, he could imagine people thinking that this was a striking case of sympathetic reaction in pregnancy, where a father-to-be shares psychosomatically in the discomfort of the expectant mother. There were plenty of men, he gathered, who felt stomach pains and put on weight during the pregnancy of their wives and partners. This was different, though; this was the light-headedness that comes from having spent close on one million pounds. And even if he had not actually spent it, then he had as good as done so. Was he bound by what he had done, he asked himself. He tried to remember what the lawyer had said – something about the whole thing needing to be formally concluded in writing. If that were so, then he could still get out of it – not that he would want to; Matthew was a man of his word and thought to do that would be like accepting an invitation to lunch subject to the proviso that if a better invitation came along then one would take that in preference.

‘How much did you offer?’