Daniel told me his daughter had come over under ‘traumatic’ conditions and asked me to drop by tomorrow about ten a.m.
I was a bit interested in his child, how he dealt with children.
In the morning I dressed to make a good impression, arrived on time. Daniel opened the door looking like he had been up all night, worrying.
As I entered his daughter, a sour faced pudgy brat, gave me a look.
She was sitting on the sofa, glaring. As Daniel tried to introduce us she got up, sucked her teeth, went to the side room, entered and slammed the door behind her.
Daniel began to apologise for her. He tried to find justifications, explanations, he looked very close to tears.
My eyes travelled the room and I saw a calendar, realised I was five weeks pregnant. Only five weeks.