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in plastic trays from Wholefood Market.
    ‘We can have our own organic eggs,’ he continues excitedly. ‘Maybe even sell a few.’
    You can also buy them from Wholefood Market, I think, and not have all that fuss - but, as is my way these days, I don’t voice that opinion. Instead, I snuggle down next to Will and say softly, ‘You’ve changed so much since your wobble. I hardly recognise you any more.’
    He puts down Keeping Chickens . ‘Don’t you like the new, improved me?’
    ‘I’m having a bit of trouble keeping up with you,’ I admit, letting my fingers rove over his chest. It worries me that beneath that strong, firm exterior something was going terribly wrong and we were completely unaware of it. Will will have to go for regular check-ups now and will probably be on medication for the rest of his life. That’s another thing that worries me - out here in the sticks, will the doctors be up to the standards of the London one he’s used to? If he has another wobble, will there be an efficient nurse handy to step in and deal with it? ‘In my heart I’m still a hard-nosed television executive with a penchant for killer heels and kick-ass suits.You just seem to have embraced this whole country thing a lot quicker than I have.’
    ‘Wait until we’ve got a proper smallholding with chickens and sheep and pigs.’
    Sheep ? Pigs ? No one said anything about sheep or pigs.
    ‘Why do we need sheep? There are loads out there on the hills. Can’t we just look at those?’
    ‘The point isn’t to look at them, it’s to rear them and then turn them into tasty dinners.’
    ‘Eat our own sheep?’ I don’t think so. I like a bit of distance between me and my food. Not that keen on scoffing anything that’s been running about in my own backyard. Once you’d tended them, wouldn’t they be just like pets? That’d be certain to turn Jessica vegetarian. ‘I thought we were just going to have a big house in the country. I don’t remember the conversation about a smallholding.’
    ‘I took it as a given,’ Will says, sounding offended that I can’t read his mind.
    I sigh and give in. ‘If it’s what you want, then we’ll do it. I just want you to be happy and healthy.’
    ‘I feel as if I’ve been given a new lease of life.’
    I feel as if I’ve had mine snatched away from me. But this is it. William loves it here in this big house with its leaking roof and its clanging plumbing and its lights that flicker on and off, so I might as well make the best of it. And I do love this man. I bloody well must do!
    ‘How’s the heart bearing up?’ I let my fingers walk lower on his chest. He might have been given a relatively clean bill of health - blood pressure and cholesterol notwithstanding - but we still don’t really know why it was that he collapsed that fateful day on the Tube so we haven’t made love since Will’s been ill.We’ve both been too worried about him exerting himself even though the doctor said - with a laugh - that it’s a myth that many middle-aged men die of heart failure while they’re having sex with their younger mistress. I’m still worried. He didn’t mention what might happen if that same middle-aged man was having sex with his equally middle-aged wife. Do I want to risk it?
    ‘The heart’s fine,’ he says with a grin. ‘Sound as a pound. In fact, it seems to be speeding up quite nicely at the moment.’
    ‘Then I suggest that it’s about time that we christened this bedroom,’ I say as I fling his damn chicken book to the floor.
    ‘Be gentle with me,’ Will teases as he takes me in his arms.
    I intend to be. Very gentle. I kiss him lovingly.
    And, for a short time, I can forget where we are and what we’ve done and chickens and sheep and the vague scratching noises that are coming from the attic, and just love my husband once more.

Chapter Eleven
     
     
     
    ‘ J esus!’ I exclaim. ‘What the hell are they ?’ And I haven’t used the Lord’s name in vain