Gene tasted the wine.

‘What do you think?’ asked George.

‘About the wine? Only one of the ten best bottles I’ve ever tasted. And I’m with three blokes in a pizza parlour. I shouldn’t have ordered the diavolo. But about Don and Rosie…’

Gene swirled his wine around in the glass, which was too small for fine-wine appreciation.

‘There’s no point sugar-coating the pill with Don. Rosie doesn’t think he can cut it as a father. Think about repeating patterns. Rosie was brought up by a single parent, so maybe she sees that as her destiny as well.’

Gene’s insight was of no practical use to me. I could not change the past.

Dave had been silent, finishing the first shared pizza.

‘I’m trying to make this refrigeration business work. It’s like playing baseball,’ he said. ‘All I can do is try to execute right every day and hope the results come. And that Sonia doesn’t give up on me in the meantime. All Don can do is try to be the best he can and hope that Rosie comes around.’

Dave was right. I needed to do everything I could to be the best father I was capable of being. I had made a start. Unknown to Rosie, I had interacted so successfully with a baby that I had raised its oxytocin levels. But I needed to do more.

I had obtained input on the crisis from 42.8 per cent of my friends, including my new friend George. I had distilled their messages into: There is a problem and Don’t give up.

I decided not to call the Eslers. I did not want them to join Rosie, Gene, George, Dave, Sonia and Stefan—Stefan!—in knowing there was a problem.

That left Claudia. World’s best psychologist.

This time she decided to use voice rather than text when I connected with her on Skype. I had not yet worked out what determined her preference, but the speed of voice communication allowed me to explain the problem in less than an hour.

Claudia delivered her analysis almost as soon as I had finished. ‘She’s looking for perfect love. She’s idealised something that she lost before she could understand that love is never perfect.’

‘Too abstract.’

‘Her mother died when she was ten. Even if her mother—her mother’s love—wasn’t perfect, Rosie had no chance to find out. So she went off looking for a perfect father, who didn’t exist, of course, and then she found a perfect husband.’

‘I’m not perfect,’ I said.

‘In your own way, you are. You believe in love more than any of us. There’s no grey with you.’

‘You’re suggesting I’m incapable of dealing with continuous concepts; that my mind is somehow Boolean?’

‘You’re never going to cheat on Rosie, are you?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s not right.’ I realised what I was saying. ‘Unless you have an open marriage, of course.’

‘Let’s not go there, Don. This is about you and Rosie. But at some point Rosie will have discovered that you’re human. You forget an anniversary, you don’t read her mind.’

‘It’s unlikely I would forget a date. But mind-reading is not my strongest attribute.’

‘So now she’s on another quest for perfect love.’

‘Repeating patterns,’ I said.

‘Where did you get that from? Don’t bother answering. But it’s valid in this case. And from what you’re saying, she’s not seeing you as part of that perfect love. Being yourself probably works beautifully with just the two of you, but not so well with a baby. In her mind.’

‘Because I’m not an average father.’

‘Perhaps. But average may not be enough. Her picture of a father is problematic. She had a lot of issues with her own father, didn’t she?’

‘The problems with Phil have been resolved. They’re friends.’ Even as I said it, I remembered Gene’s observation about childhood problems.

‘It doesn’t change the past. It doesn’t change her subconscious.’

‘So what do I do?’

‘That’s always the hard part.’ I was reaching the conclusion that psychology researchers needed to give more attention to problem-solving. ‘Keep working on being a father. Maybe try to discuss the issue with Rosie. But not in the terms I’ve used.’

‘How can I discuss it without using the terms you’ve used to explain it?’ It would be like trying to explain genetics without mentioning DNA.

‘You’ve got a point. Maybe just keep trying and let her know you’re committed.’

There’s a problem. Don’t give up.

‘And Don.’

I waited for Claudia to finish the sentence.

‘I’d rather you didn’t say anything to Gene, but I’m seeing someone. I’m in a relationship with a new man. So I think the time has passed for you to worry about getting Gene and me back together.’

The conversation appeared over, so I terminated the call. Claudia obviously had not finished. She sent me two text messages.

Good luck, Don. You’ve surprised us all so far.

Then: I think you know the new man in my life. Simon Lefebvre—Head of the Medical Research Institute.

The data-gathering stage of the Lesbian Mothers Project was complete, and I had reviewed the initial draft paper. At my request, B3, the helpful nurse, had sent me the raw data, and I had undertaken my own analysis. The results were fascinating and definitely a useful contribution to the field. There were numerous ways to improve the paper, and I sent my notes to B2. She did not respond, but B1 demanded a meeting with the Dean who invited me to join them.