‘I’m happy to report success,’ said the solicitor. ‘Moray Place is yours. They accepted immediately. In fact …’ She hesitated momentarily. ‘They said that the client was delighted to sell it to you and accepted your offer. They noted that you accepted and understood the listed building consent issue. I said that you did, as you instructed me. So you are now the proud owner – or almost – of a flat in Moray Place. Congratulations.’

Matthew swallowed hard. ‘I’m very pleased,’ he said. But he did not sound very convincing.

‘Entry will be in two weeks’ time,’ went on the lawyer. ‘They insisted on that, I’m afraid.’

‘Of course,’ said Matthew weakly. ‘That will give us time to get things organised at this end.’

‘I hope that you’re very happy in your new home,’ said the lawyer.

‘We shall be,’ said Matthew.

He rang off and went back to the kitchen to give Elspeth the news. He found her with her head in her hands, in tears.

‘Darling! Darling, darling! Why … Why are you crying? It’s good news. It’s ours.’

This did not bring the desired reaction, but only seemed to increase her tearfulness.

‘Please don’t cry,’ pleaded Matthew, placing an arm around Elspeth’s shoulder. She nestled her head against him. He felt her tears, warm against his cheek. The tears of another person, he thought; another’s tears.

‘I didn’t mean to cry,’ she sobbed. ‘I didn’t. It’s just that everything is suddenly so complicated. I thought that getting married would be simple – that I would feel just the same, but married, if you see what I mean.’

Matthew did not. He stroked her hair gently.

‘And then,’ Elspeth went on, ‘it all seemed so strange. The babies. The house. The million pounds. Everything.’

‘Don’t you want to move?’ asked Matthew. ‘Don’t you want to live in Moray Place?’

He had not expected her answer. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I want to stay here. I want to stay here with you. I want it just to be us. Just the two of us. That’s what I want.’

Matthew tried to comfort her. Just the two of us. But they were no longer just two – they were five. Did this mean that she did not want her triplets? Is that what she meant?

‘Not just the two of us,’ he whispered. ‘Five.’

Elspeth caught her breath, and then sobbed all the more. Matthew did not know what to say, or what to do. He remembered what his father had once said. It had been at a Watsonian rugby match, and Matthew’s father had turned to his son and said, apropos of nothing, ‘Matthew – remember one thing. Women see things differently from the way men see them. You remember that.’

54. The Therapeutic Hour