I went into town to buy a baby present and came back with two paintings, a coat and some pyjamas. The reason for buying the paintings was straightforward. I loved the artist John Fisher's paintings of writers' rooms. I couldn't decide between two and had a blinding flash of Jack, my late husband, saying, "What's the matter with you? You work like a dog! Treat yourself, for heaven's sake. If you like them, have 'em." This from a man whom, when I suggested in Italy that he bought himself some shoes, looked at me and said in all seriousness, "But I've got shoes, love - a black pair and a brown pair."