‘Maybe I am letting you off. But you must know that I didn’t want better than you,’ Parvez said. ‘And you gave me our beautiful boys.’ He stroked Sharif’s hair gently back from his face. ‘As I’m in the confessing mood, can I tell you a secret? Deep down, I always thought that the boys weren’t really mine. I thought about all those secretive clinic visits you went on, where you didn’t want or need me to go at all, and then the boys came, and they were so pale, practically white, just like your father’s family, and they were so much their Amma’s boys, and not like me at all. I thought that the clinic had given you another man’s sperm to conceive.’ Parvez shook his head ruefully again, ‘I thought that for years, and kept it hidden so far down that nobody would ever guess. Who would ever guess that I doubted my own children? And then Omar suddenly claimed to be gay, and I was so bloody furious at him, and more than anything, terrified for him, for what the future might hold for him if he didn’t snap out of it. And then I got the call that Sharif was in hospital, and I felt like the ground had been taken away from under my feet … and I realized how much I care about them, and I knew that they were my sons after all. That they always were and always will be. Whatever happened all those years ago, they’re my sons.’ He looked questioningly at Shona, and held his breath. He had told her his secret, now he was waiting to see if she had one, too.