Sir stands in the middle of the room, looking a bit lost. He’s taken his ball cap off and I realise he’s losing some hair in the centre, never noticed before.

“Listen, is your mom here?”

“No, sorry, Sir.”

He looks around and then lowers himself on the sofa. As he does, Gabs crawls out from our room, where he’s been looking at the pictures in the book.

“Who is this?” Sir says, standing back up.

“Gabriel,” I say. “Gabs for short.”

Gabs lifts up his arms and Sir scoops him up. Gabs runs his chubby little hands, all clean from his bath, along Sir’s face, which is sporting a few days of rough growth on his cheeks. I wait for Sir to ask if he’s mine. Most people do. Not that I could have hid a baby bump under a wetsuit, but people rarely think. Teenage girl and a baby, that’s all they need to jump to conclusions. But all Sir says, “So I guess this is why you miss practice.”

I nod.

He sighs and sits back down on the sofa, baby in his lap. Gabs pulls himself on to his feet, doing that baby dance-dance they do when they can’t walk, but really want to. Sir holds him gently around the waist, making sure Gabs doesn’t fall. “Tazmin,” he says, “we’re you ever going to tell me?”

I shrug.

“Why not? I knew your mom has difficult hours, working for the hospital. But nobody told me she’d had a baby.”

“She didn’t. He’s my nephew.”

“Ah,” he says, with a nod. “Are you and your Ma the only people he’s got?”

“Yes,” I say, and thrust up my chin. Because while I might look forward to a life free of all this, I love Gabs with all my heart. I really do. Justine made a beautiful boy and I feel sorry for her, missing out on her son. And she always looked out for me, especially after Daddy died. If this is how I pay her back, then that’s what I’m doing.

“Tazmin, I know surfing isn’t typically considered a team sport, but that’s what we are, a team. And when I tell you all there is no “I” in team, I’m not just talking about how you all need to share the waves and look out for each other on the water. We’re a team and you’re part of it. If this little guy here is what is making it so hard for you to train, you should have told me. We can help.”

“He already spends too much time being cared for strangers,” I say softly.

“So we’ll take him to practice. Put him in a hat; smear some suncream on him. I’ve raised two kids; I can keep an eye on him while we watch his auntie on the water. Who knows, fifteen years from now he might be the next big thing to hit the surf scene. He’ll love it.”

“I’ll have to talk to Ma,” I say.

“You do that. What time is she home?”

“Not until seven in the morning. But she can’t sleep during the day if Gabs is climbing all over her.”

“Okay, then talk to her and point out that with him out of the house, she’ll sleep even better. I’ll make sure he doesn’t get too much sun and I promise you, I haven’t forgotten how to change a nappy.”

I nod.

He stands up and hands me Gabs. “It’s going to be good, Tazmin. You’ll see.”

Maybe, but I’m not too sure Ma will think so.

***

Tell us: Do you think Tazmin should have told her coach sooner about the baby?