Why don’t I feel what I should for this new person, my flesh and blood? Kerry looked at me as if I was a zombie when I told her I didn’t want anything to do with the kid.

Perhaps that’s what I am, an emotionless monster who doesn’t deserve anything good.

I get up off the sofa to go to grab a beer from the mini-fridge. Fuck it. I haven’t had a drink since my detox in the summer, but I need to get wasted—

I catch sight of myself in the mirror. Do you really want to do this?

I turn away.

Through the window of the den I can see my mother at the bi-fold doors in the kitchen. Last night I couldn’t face her epic New Year bash and she’s staring at me now, her face twisted with worry. That’s what parenthood is like. I’m twenty-two years old and she’s still scared about what I’ll do next.

No wonder I don’t want that.

I step closer towards my reflection in the mirror.

Does my son really have my eyes, like Zoë said?

The bottle is cold against my hand. The lid pops off with a hiss. I sit back down on the sofa and I can smell the yeastiness. It’s only beer. Barely counts as alcohol.

Ten days old.

I don’t even know how big he is or what he can and can’t do.

Nothing to do with me.

I lift the beer up to my lips. The smell sickens me but the effect will make up for it.

Zoë took a choice away from me by having the kid. But should she also have the choice about whether he’s allowed to have a dad? I know how hard her life has been, but that makes her even less able to make the right decisions on behalf of her defenceless son.

Our defenceless son.

I throw the bottle across the room in anger but it doesn’t even smash, it just coats the timber wall in beer. What a mess I make of everything.

The last few days, I’ve been mourning my relationship with Kerry. The best thing in my life and I killed it. I’ve considered calling her, telling her I’d try to find the baby if she’d reconsider. But even I know it would be a terrible reason to be in a child’s life.

I wonder who is caring for him. Is Zoë allowed to spend time with him, or is it only people who are paid to be there?

Could I make a difference? It’s something I’ve been wrestling with since talking to Kerry on Boxing Day. Being a dad terrifies me but there’s more at stake now than my own cowardice.

I know what Kerry would say: being afraid is not an excuse for me to let him down.