19 MARCH 1994, Page 39

Choosing to be a Swan

was not one of my best moves the balancing so tricky, the flapping so draughty, the little loosened feathers getting up her nose so that she sneezed and shuddered when stillness could have been helpful and lay exhausted when shuddering would have been acceptable.

When she laid the egg, her husband was all rolling eyes and ironical looks, but sensibly kept his mouth shut.

I twisted thunderbolts between my fingers, but let him live on. The egg will hatch forth a boy and a beautiful peaceful daughter called Helen. What more could a cuckold ask for?

Connie Bensley