‘Of course they’re your sons,’ Shona said, in answer to his unspoken question, her voice trembling with emotion. ‘Did you really not see that Sharif had his daddy’s eyes, right from when he was a baby?’ She paused, and then continued falteringly, ‘But you’re right about one thing, I have kept something from you, all these years.’ Parvez looked up quickly, and held Sharif’s unconscious hand for support, awaiting the verdict he’d been dreading. ‘The truth is … the truth is, that the boys are yours, but they weren’t mine. Genetically, I mean. I didn’t produce enough eggs when I went to the clinic. I signed up for a scheme where we got eggs from a donor; it was a Caucasian donor, there weren’t any Asian donors in the scheme. That’s why the boys were so pale.’ Shona stumbled over the words, unwilling to stop. Here, at Sharif’s hospital bed, she too felt the need to confess, to unburden herself from a deceit that she had held so long it had become part of her, a parasite woven into her body. ‘You spent years worrying about whether they were yours, and I spent years worrying that they’d realize they weren’t mine. My boys, I went through hell to conceive them, and grew them out my own flesh and blood, and yet they weren’t my flesh and blood, not like they were yours. I didn’t want them to ever find out that I wasn’t their mother.’

Parvez took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face with his hands in disbelief. ‘My God, Goldie, how could you have kept that secret? For all this time. Of course you’re their mother - nothing could ever change that.’ He looked at Sharif’s still, pale face, and said with confusion, ‘So does that mean that Sharif and Candida aren’t related at all? That’s why you didn’t stop them dating?’

Shona nodded. ‘You see, it really is all my fault. I almost killed my own son for the sake of keeping my own selfish secret, like some stupid Greek tragic heroine. Candida’s not his aunt; the boys have got nothing to do with my Amma or papa.’ She stopped herself running on in self-loathing, as both Parvez and she became aware of their son shifting, and his lips beginning to move.

‘Mum?’ said Sharif, through dry, rasping lips. ‘What did you say?’

’Darling!’ Shona cried, and pulled his hand to her lips.’Oh, thank God. Candida’s not related to you, darling. Your Nana didn’t realize. He’s coming over now, he’s bringing Candida. I’ll explain it all to them, I’ll explain to everyone. Just get better, darling, and it’ll all be all right. I promise.’