‘Did I know what?’ Dragon asks, nearly hysterical.

‘Your son tried to make me abort the baby. Only he didn’t even tell me about it. What were you thinking—to pass it off as a miscarriage? Why, Sid?’

Dragon’s face loses colour, she sags against the wall.

‘Because—because goddamnit Polly! I am not ready. I don’t want to be a father. I most definitely don’t want to father a child with you. With much difficulty my life is finally getting on track and then you spring this on me,’ Sid says as he runs his hand through his hair. I’ve always found that gesture adorable, now I see he has really thin hair, he’s balding.

‘I didn’t bring the baby with me, Sid. You gave it to me,’ I remind him.

‘It was a mistake! I shouldn’t have—’ Sid looks at his mother, ‘I shouldn’t have done it. I was drunk,’ he says.

‘The baby happened on a night you were not drunk,’ I say softly.

Dragon looks embarrassed.

‘I don’t care, it was still a mistake. I am NOT staying. My life is with Lata, I am going. You need to think practically, Polly. What are you going to do with a ba—how will you bring it up alone? It’s not an easy task, it takes responsibility—’

‘Please don’t preach to me about responsibility, Sid,’ I say.

I feel my anger rising and with it, the hate. Why didn’t I see before how selfish he is?

‘Of course I’m going to talk about fucking responsibility,’ Sid yells. ‘That’s my—that’s my foetus too, my responsibility—I have the right to decide—’

His ‘foetus’? I laugh out loud.

‘So you decided to make me abort without telling me. You tried to murder my baby,’ I say, speaking each word slowly and clearly.

Dragon gasps, tears are rolling down her face.

‘STOP CALLING IT A BABY!’ Sid yells.

He walks right up to me and stops, his nose nearly touching mine.

‘It’s not a fucking baby yet, it’s a blob of cells,’ he says, mincing out each word.

‘It’s a baby Sid, my baby—and did you know it makes a tiny fist? It’s alive and well and it’s going to stay that way. I’m going to have my baby. I’m leaving,’ I say.

I step aside from Sid and start rolling the suitcase towards the front door.

‘Why are you complicating things, Polly?’ Sid says, walking beside me, trying to grab my arm. ‘I want a divorce, a clean, uncomplicated divorce. How am I going to explain a fucking baby to Lata?’ he asks.