They sat down at the kitchen table. The air had been cleared; suspicions of treachery had been dispelled, and now it was time to do some concrete planning.

‘We must take plenty of factor forty,’ said Domenica.

Angus agreed. ‘At the very least! Do you know that the noses of dogs can get sunburned?’ He thought for a moment. ‘And factor forty makes a tremendous thinner for oil paints, Domenica. Did you know that?’

31. Pregnancy Plans

That same Saturday morning, Elspeth Harmony was still in bed at 9.30 a.m. when Matthew left for the gallery. She was not feeling well, but had not told him so, as she did not want him to make a fuss. Pregnancy, she thought, should not be something that people made such a fuss about.

‘You don’t need to get up,’ he said brightly, when he came in to kiss her goodbye before going to the gallery. ‘Spend the day in bed if you want. I’m sure rest is good for you.’

She smiled wanly. Perhaps she should have told him that today was the day she was due to have her three-month scan at the hospital, but if she had done that, again he would have made such a song and dance about it. It was far better to get things like that over and done with, rather than to have anxious husbands getting in the way.

She knew, of course, that this was not the way most people thought. The current view was that men should be almost as involved in the pregnancy as women, going to classes with their wives or partners, discussing childbirth options, doing exercises together. She did not hold with this at all; she had no objection to the idea that Matthew would be with her at the delivery – that was perfectly reasonable – but she did not necessarily want him interfering in everything that went before that. Morning sickness was unpleasant, but did it really have to be shared with one’s husband? And as for medical examinations, those, it seemed to her, should be something between the doctor and the patient, and not to be participated in by others.

She had known for six weeks now that she was pregnant. Matthew had known for almost as long, and had, as she had feared, moved rapidly from euphoria to neurosis over the whole thing. To begin with, he had tried to get her to stop drinking either tea or coffee in case the foetus was adversely affected by caffeine. Then he had removed all the shampoo from the flat after he had read somewhere that hair products contained chemicals that were dangerous for pregnant women.

‘Listen, Matthew,’ she had eventually said. ‘I know that you’re excited about this baby, but you really must let me go through this pregnancy on my terms. Obviously I’m going to be careful, but you can’t wrap me in cotton wool – not for the next six months!’