44 Scotland Street: I know what I don't mean The fifteenth instalment of Alexander McCall Smith's new series of his daily novel Episode 15 Matthew's wife, Elspeth, had spent that day in the way in which she now spent every day - coping. She was not given to bemoaning her situation, and did not do so, but having triplets, all boys, who were just at the point of crawling energetically, would have given anybody an entire litany of possible complaints against a Fate that had dealt her this particular set of reproductive cards. Of course there were people who were considerably worse-off than her; Elspeth had become an avid devourer of the literature on multiple births, and had read of a Texan woman who, in the space of some twenty two years had given birth to one set of quintuplets, one of quadruplets, three sets of triplets, and five sets of twins. Not content with that, she was also the mother of nine children who were born singly. Of course there was a lot of room in Texas, and she assumed that this woman had not lived on the top floor of whatever building she occupied and had not had to struggle to get baby buggies down several flights of stairs. Elspeth had Anna to help her, and that made a major difference. The Danish au pair had very quickly made herself indispensable, making it possible for Elspeth to get the occasional chance to read the paper, attend to household bills, or to snatch a half hour of the sleep that had become so precious to her, and so elusive too: the boys invariably chose different times at which to wake up during the night. "I don't know what I'd do without you," Elspeth once said to Anna. "If you went back to Copenhagen..." She left the sentence, and its awful speculation, unfinished. "They're getting on perfectly well over there without me," Anna assured her. Your need is much greater. Elspeth looked at her in sheer gratitude. She would do anything to keep Anna, even to the extent of getting an au pair for her au pair. When she had gone so far as to make that offer, Anna had simply laughed. "I don't need an au pair," she said. I am the au pair. "But we can get you one," Elspeth insisted. She could be your assistant. Anna had looked thoughtful. You mean I could tell her what to do? She'd work for me, rather than for you? "Yes," said Elspeth. We'd pay her, but she'd report to you. Anything you like. "And she can be Danish?" asked Anna. Yes, she can be Danish. On hearing about this, Matthew had at first been incredulous. "Hold on," he said. You mean you're getting an au pair for Anna? Is that what you mean to do? Elspeth nodded. "You have no idea, Matthew," she said. You come home and see the boys all neat and tidy, but have you got any idea - any idea - of how difficult it is to run them? Just getting them dressed in the morning is a major battle - three writhing little boys resisting your efforts. And then feeding them involves the sort of effort that a military field kitchen must have to make in the midst of battle. They throw things now, you know. Boiled egg, porridge, bowlfuls of that ghastly prune stuff - everything is a missile, Matthew. These boys have never even heard of the Geneva Convention, you know. He did not argue, sensing that he was on weak ground. The addition of another au pair would mean that he would have to give up the room that he used as a study, as the au pair would have to be given somewhere to sleep. But he sensed that Elspeth had made up her mind and that the matter was not open for discussion. So the agency that had sent them Anna was contacted and invited to send somebody as similar to her as possible. And that person - the au pair's au pair - was due to arrive in little over a week. But now, it was just Elspeth and Anna who had to keep the boys fed, dry, and amused. That was a more or less full-time job for both of them, and tiring as well. So when Matthew came home that night, Elspeth was exhausted, as she always was at the end of a day spent with Tobermory, Rognvald, and Fergus. Matthew began to help with the boys and it was not until they were safely in bed and their light turned out that he and Elspeth were able to talk to one another. "I can tell you've had a demanding day," Matthew said. His tone was apologetic, as he knew that his own day would sound positively leisurely in comparison with Elspeth's. Elspeth shrugged. "The usual," she said. Nappies. Feeding. Sick. "It won't go on forever," he said. They'll grow up. "I don't want them to grow up too quickly," said Elspeth. "It's just that I wish there weren't..." She hesitated. I wish there weren't quite so many of them. Matthew looked down at the floor. I had a conversation with Big Lou today. We talked about whether she would ever want to have children. Elspeth thought for a moment. She'd make a wonderful mother. I can just imagine it. But it's a bit late, isn't it? And she hasn't got a man, anyway. He explained about Alex, and Elspeth said that she could well sympathise with Big Lou and her disinclination to talk about pigs and potatoes forever. "We move on," she said. "We discussed adoption," said Matthew. What did she think? Matthew told her that Big Lou was well aware of the scarcity of babies for adoption. Then he said: "I suggested she could have one of ours. I didn't say that in so many words, though - I suppose implied it. Elspeth stared at him. You what? "I was just thinking aloud," Matthew said. I wondered if it would be easier for you to have just two, rather than three. And we'd see the other one at Big Lou's. He'd have an excellent upbringing - you know what she's like. Elspeth was silent. For a while she did nothing, but simply stared unflinchingly at Matthew. Then she said: "I can't believe what I've just heard." Matthew paled. "I...I was just speculating," he said. I wasn't serious about it. "You were," said Elspeth, through clenched teeth. But you just said you wished that there were fewer of them. You said it. I heard you. "I'm not talking about me," Elspeth shot back. I'm talking about you. I know what I don't mean. Up to Episode 15 After discussing the merits or otherwise of reincarnation, and in particular how it applies to residents of Edinburgh's New Town, Big Lou admits to Matthew that her romance with Alex, the pig farmer from Mains of Mochle, has run its course. Worse, her biological clock is ticking particularly loudly these days.