‘I did ring,’ he said quickly. ‘Or at least I tried to, but the phone was always engaged. In the end I decided that it must have got knocked off the hook or there was some problem on the line. And once I’d driven to Edinburgh, I called in on Mungo Sinclair. You remember him? And we got chatting and had a drink or two and then I couldn’t drive back so he put me up. It never occurred to me that you might have gone into hospital, Grace. Truly. Please can you forgive me? Pretty please.’

Grace sighed. She knew there was nothing that could be done to change the way things had turned out. They just had to get over it and move on, and she was going to have to forgive him sooner or later.

She screwed her face up and watched as he waited, every muscle in his body tensed, for her decision.

‘All right,’ she said eventually, her eyes narrowed and the merest hint of a smile on her lips. ‘I will forgive you. But only because I don’t have any choice. And you can expect me to bring the subject up again and again over the years when I’m particularly cross with you.’ She shook her head at him and he, sensing that the storm was finally over, beamed back at her. Then he leant over and gave her a peck on her cheek.

‘We really should give her a name, you know,’ he said. ‘People keep asking, and I can’t go on saying that we haven’t decided.’

With Hector they’d had two lists, one male and one female, all agreed and ready to be whipped out at the appropriate moment. This time things had been different. Charles didn’t seem to have been around as much, and Grace was too busy focusing on Hector to pore over the baby names book like she had the first time round. Whilst each of them had made various suggestions during the eight months of her pregnancy, nothing had been agreed upon. They should have had at least three more weeks to finally decide, but then the baby had confounded them by turning up early.

‘Well,’ said Grace slowly. ‘There are our mothers’ names, but I’m not sure she’d thank us for either Dolores or Ethel.’

Charles shook his head. ‘I’m not sure either of those are even up to being middle names,’ he said. ‘What about our aunts? Did any of them have a name worth preserving for posterity?’

‘To be honest,’ said Grace, ‘if we’re struggling to remember their names, I don’t think any of them means enough to us to call a child after.’

‘Maybe we should stick to the classics,’ said Charles. ‘You can’t go wrong with the Greeks. Hector is a fine name.’