Roland, still a beginner parent, still a doting father, often marvelled at the mere fact of his son’s existence, at how he could run, think, speak, at the precise enunciation of his words and their lyrical intonation, the skin and hair beyond the fantasies of the cosmetics industry. A new intelligence had leaped from two cells merging and daily wove itself into greater complexity and surprises. The eyes were clear and thickly lashed. The unconditional love, sense of humour, embraces, confidences, the tears, the meltdowns, the 5 a.m. starts—all of it still surprised him. As they waited to cross
...more
