So, how did the appointment go?” Dee asks as soon as we’re through the door. She’s trying to sound bored, like she’s only asking because she has nothing better to do, but I can see that she’s been sitting there waiting for us to return.

“We won’t have his blood tests back for a few days, so I don’t know what his CD4 count and viral load are like, but the good news is there’s no hip dysplasia or any physical problems with his legs, so there’s no reason why he shouldn’t be walking soon.”

“Of course there isn’t,” she says. She’d told me that it was common for babies who’d been raised in institutions to take longer to reach all the big milestones because they didn’t have that initial one-on-one time with their caregivers, which is why he’d been so slow with starting to crawl.

“I know. You were right,” I concede, and then add dryly, “It’s just all these new-mother hormones raging through my body making me emotional.”

“I’m sure the breastfeeding must be killer too.”

I snort. “Look at you, making jokes like a normal person. You’re hilarious, by the way.”

“Not really. You just think so because of the cabin fever and because you’re a one-year-old’s hostage.”

“Except I’m not quite as fond of him as Stockholm syndrome suggests I should be under the circumstances.”

Dee laughs. “Jokes aside, you really need to get out more. It’s not healthy for either of you being cooped up like this all the time.”

I eyeball her. “Seriously? And where do you suggest we go? To walk around the nursery that’s owned by the right-wingers who we think called and made the last death threat, or to the teahouse run by the Coetzees’ cousin? Perhaps we should go to church so the lovely dominee can tell me again what an abomination he thinks we are, or would you suggest—”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” She’s quiet for a moment and then looks at me sideways, as if nervous. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m just surprised.”

“By what?”

“That you’re allowing yourself to be bullied in this way. This isn’t the Ruth I know. The Ruth I know would go out there swinging.”

“Yes, well. The Ruth you’re talking about is BM Ruth.”

“BM?”

“Before Mandla. AM Ruth is excruciatingly aware that she’s not the only one who’ll be a target. Mandla will be too and I just don’t want to put him in danger if I don’t have to.”