And the night I dictated my letters to the scribe I had felt nauseous, but it passed. At some stage into my first weeks at Kelso my belly swelled and my apron strings had to be tied looser, which was to be expected, I suppose, what with all the wholesome food. But on some days I would have a queer spell and feel out of sorts, and I could not face anything but cold water. It was a mild, off-colour feeling that was neither one thing nor another. It was not like the stories the fishwives told of their pregnancies: wild and roaring, and full of vomit pails; the reek of morning fish guts fit to make their ears ring. It did not feel like I thought a pregnancy ought and, truth be told, pregnancy was the furthest thing from my mind. I had assumed that Spencer’s Women’s Tonic had worked. That my taking of the powders had been the end of such matters and that, once taken, the draught did its job. It had certainly tasted potent enough.

But eventually, after a couple of weeks of feeling off-sorts, one morning I could not shift my bones. Mrs Baxter thought I was sickening for something.

‘You are off-colour,’ she said, appearing at the door when I had not come down that morning.

‘Mibbie I have caught an ague,’ I said.

She disappeared and came back up again, bringing me warm wine infused with sage and leaving it at the door, along with a small bell. ‘I don’t like sickness, I shall not come too close, but ring this bell if you need anything.’

I did not ring the bell. In fact I slept without fever or chills, but the dreams were vivid and unlike anything I had dreamed before.

I dreamed of a snake. I think that was my first snake dream, certainly the first I can remember, and this particular snake was colourless, but firm and slippery like a trout. Iridescent beneath the water.

When I woke up, I tried to drink the wine, but it tasted of vinegar and I realized that the taste of foods had changed too much for it to be just Cook’s methods. It was only when I lay back and wondered if my aches were to do with my monthly visitor that I puzzled and frowned, then realized I had mibbie skipped my last monthly visitor. Even the one before that had been scant. In fact I had not bled properly and heavily since mibbie December, before Spencer and I were married. And that was four full months ago.

I staggered out of bed and tried to see myself properly in the looking glass. I had to stand on a chair to do so, but I managed. And there I was in full glory. Gone was the girl I had always been, with broad shoulders, but a thin waist. I was thicker in the belly.