There's a cuddly candour to his self-portraits. He draws himself hairy and paunchy, with bags under his eyes. Early sketches depict him slumped on the sofa with a glass of wine. Joy is often shown — highlighted with luminous white pencil — above and behind the family. Several inches taller and 15 years younger than her teddy bear of a husband, she floats through the pages like a fairy queen. Looking at the sketch of her stretching protective arms above her children I was reminded of C. S. Lewis's line: 'Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything.' Gary records his darkest, emptiest moments: his fear of the empty double bed, his excessive comfort eating and the times he sat in the car, unable to move after the school run.