Love is tested in so many ways

1’s 1.30 pm, in bed — and if I am on page 141 of We are Water by Wally Lamb, I’m thinking it is no thanks to my husband, who’s scampering enthusiastically across the room’s diagonal on all fours sideways, so as to make our ancient floor-joists judder and squeak in alarming fashion.

“If I move the sofas back in the barn, perhaps you could do your Spiderman Scuttle down there instead?” I suggest, with icy courtesy, lowering We are Water.