The kitchen door was already open: I’d overslept, so Martha had let herself in and prepared breakfast for all of us.

Susan was dressed, I could tell it was Susan by the way she held herself, I didn’t need to see her face.

“Morning!” My tone was bright. No work today, well, no paying work. Four wives was work enough for anyone, and my day had yet to begin.

“Good morning, darling.” She was spreading the runny yolk on her toast with a knife. This was Susan: fastidious, gentle, caring. My heart swelled with love and I stood a minute to just enjoy the moment with her.

Then Sarah came in. Susan shuddered and then was gone. She wouldn’t share her breakfast with Sarah.

“I hate runny eggs. You bastard!” Sarah began sobbing, then the rage was back. She swept the plate from the table. The yolks made a dangerous slick on the linoleum so I set about wiping them up before one of my other wives slipped and cut herself on the mess.

When I looked up, Samantha stood naked before me, touching herself intimately. She looked at me through brazen eyes, but I shook my head, dumping the remains of breakfast into the bin. Now was not the time.

By the time I turned round, Shelley was working at the Times crossword. Intent as always, it barely stimulated her incredible mind.

Then Susan was back. I saw the tears well in her eyes, and I could tell she was mouthing ‘sorry’.

I held her in my arms, stroking her head, whispering:

“It’s okay, darling. I love you, every bit. Dr. Sassman said the new pills will be better. Maybe the others will go away then, and it’ll be just you and me again. Forever.”

My tears joined hers.