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encouraged him.’
    ‘Goodness, how could you tell his age . . . I couldn’t even see him under that monstrous helmet. Besides, I’m not about to have an affair with him. Just give him a cup of tea and a scone to thank him for helping me.’
    ‘Well, if you do decide to have an affair with him talk to me first so I can educate you about methods of birth control, which will help to avoid unwanted pregnancy and disease.’
    Meggie blushed a fiery red and pressed her palms against her cheeks. ‘As if I’d even consider having a love affair! Goodness, my mother would have had a fit if she’d heard you say that.’
    ‘It looks as though you’re already having one. Believe me, mother nature has her own way of dealing with such matters, and I doubt if your mother would be consulted over it.’ Her aunt caressed her cheek and smiled. ‘Come to one of the clinic lectures run by the alternate nurse tutor. Other women are bound to ask the questions you might be too shy to ask for yourself.’
    ‘I’ll think about it.’ Picking up her suitcase Meggie headed upstairs, knowing she wouldn’t think about it for long.
    Esmé watched Meggie go, a smile on her face. She loved having her niece to stay. The girl looked a little old-fashioned for a seventeen-year-old. Her hair was too long, and a little make-up wouldn’t go astray. She’d also buy a new outfit for her, a classic suit with padded shoulders and a sweet little hat to top it off – smart but not too fussy.
    Meggie seemed to have no idea how to enhance her appearance. She vaguely resembled her mother, only was more animated when measured against Livia’s air of calmness. Her curiosity about everyone and everything, along with her smile, came from the Sangster side of the family.
    Esmé turned when she heard the key in the latch, smiling when she saw the outline of her husband through the glass. Despite his boast of his navigational ability, she always worried when it was foggy. They worked in separate hospitals and quite often, one, or both of them, would sleep over.
    Whipping off his brown trilby Leo went through his ritual of throwing it towards the hallstand. It hit the hook, spun round it and fell on to the floor. ‘Almost,’ he said. Taking off his coat he hung it on the hook, scooped up the hat and set it on top. His mouth crinkled into a smile when he saw her. ‘Ah . . . my favourite woman. Come here and give me a kiss.’
    Leo had lost some of his Australian accent in the time he’d lived in England, but he still flattened his vowels a little. He hadn’t forgotten how to kiss her, his mouth travelling in a tease from her mouth to her nose on to her forehead, and then landing on her mouth again, for something longer and more lingering. ‘You taste delicious, like spotted dog.’
    ‘We’re having it with custard for pudding. I tested it first. How was your day?’
    ‘The Jenkins’ boy is minus an appendix and out of danger. I do wish parents would bring their children in earlier. Another hour or so and we could have lost him. You?’
    ‘I had one delivery this morning, a beautiful little girl who arrived just before the clinic began, which was rather convenient of her, since I managed to get back for it. They’re calling her Rosemary.’
    They both liked positive days, and rarely discussed the negatives of their professions. It was wiser not to get involved emotionally with patients. The fact that Esmé loved all the babies she delivered didn’t count, she told him.
    ‘That’s different,’ Leo had said. ‘It’s the herd instinct. Females protect other females’ babies. It’s a mindless sort of thing, an instinct. Men are physically stronger and more predatory. They protect both, especially if they can get something out of it for the effort. Slaves to till his fields, extra female to see to his comfort . . . a favourite wife to massage his feet . . .’
    That statement had earned him a cushion in the face.
    Now she returned his kiss and said,