“I don’t think you should, Cat.”

“Nonsense. Rowing in moderation is very good for the pregnant lady.”

“All right, you row a little moderately. I’ll go back, then you come up. Hold on to both gunwales when you come up.”

I sat in the stern with my coat on and the collar turned up and watched Catherine row. She rowed very well but the oars were too long and bothered her. I opened the bag and ate a couple of sandwiches and took a drink of the brandy. It made everything much better and I took another drink.

“Tell me when you’re tired,” I said. Then a little later, “watch out the oar doesn’t pop you in the tummy.”

“If it did”⁠—Catherine said between strokes⁠—“life might be much simpler.”

I took another drink of the brandy.