Right on cue, just as his mum is explaining how the unexpected sight of him instantly made everything bearable when confronted by more Olympic heartache, Tommy pipes up on the baby monitor; the squawks of a premature wake from the morning nap.
“Sorry, I’ll have to stick a dummy in and see if he goes back to sleep,” says Amber Rutter, stepping over Mila the cat – luxuriating on the living room rug – and skipping upstairs to tend to her six‑month‑old son.
