”“Could we feed them lunch?”“Sure! Something suitable for a recent heart-attack victim. Not salad, midwinter. Chicken. Stir-fry.”“Is that ...kay?”“Sure. At least I think so. Olive oil. Fresh veg.” She lifted the handset. “Come to lunch? Twelve? One? Okay. See you then.” She hung up, or switched off, or whatever, and turned to her husband with a smile. “One o’clock. Have you anything pressing?”“Yes, and I know just what to do about it. Bed.”“Perfect.” Kat held out her hand to her husband and towed. What I was feeling for them, as each one turned up pregnant, was more than it had been when they were just a group of my ex-girl friends.That night I spoke to Joyce about Brenda's problems, and then about my feelings about the changing attitudes of all the X's. I told her I was getting worried, because it was a much greater commitment after you had fathered a child with a woman. I was feeling a much stronger bond with each of them already.I thought Joyce would be angry with me, or, at least. More

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