Chapter 60: No X-chromosome.

I phoned Mr Gibson this morning, the doctor Orla and Meg had recommended.

Luckily for me, he has a cancellation in his morning schedule, so I took the Circle Line to Great Poland Street and followed my A to Zed to his office on Harley street, a block of beautiful, old town houses, most of which appeared to have been converted to medical offices.

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I opened the heavy red door to Mr Gibson's practice and walked into a marble foyer, where a receptionist handed me a form to fill out and pointed to a waiting room with a fireplace.

I don't know how long that I've been waiting when a plump, grandmotherly woman who introduced herself as Abigail, Mr. Gibson's midwife, told me to follow her into the waiting room and then, led me up a winding, grand staircase to another room that looks as if it should have been roped off in a museum.

Abigail introduced me to my doctor as he rose behind his mahogany desk, stepped around it, and gracefully extended his hand.

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