The Birthday Boys

After he’d gone I thought about Kathleen again. I still don’t know why she picked me from all her other admirers. She’s always said she doesn’t know either, beyond she wanted a son and ‘knew’ I should be his father. That, and what she refers to as my ‘heavenly’ eyes, which in moments of arousal apparently turn from blue to mauve. She told my mother, who was considerably taken aback, that she’d ‘liked Con quite a lot’ until Peter was born, and afterwards fallen violently in love. I’m only too thankful she didn’t bring up the business of my eyes changing colour.

‘I’m against medical precautions,’ he said. ‘There’s an awful lot of rot talked about germs. In India one was almost forced at gunpoint to be vaccinated against smallpox. I refused.’

‘You were very lucky to get away with it then sir,’ I said.

‘I didn’t,’ he replied. I went down with it in Bombay and damn near died.’