‘No! I won’t. I’ve never wanted children.’ The day the doctors told me my heart problem was probably inherited, I knew I couldn’t inflect this on a kid.

She smiles indulgently. ‘All men feel like that to start with. But you’ll make a great dad. You’re kind and you’re patient and—’

‘You have no idea what I’m really like. Not a bloody clue. I’m damaged, all right?’

‘I’ve seen damaged, Joel Greenaway, and you ain’t it. I’ve seen things that would fry your rich boy brain, but this is a new life. Between us, we can give a kid the best childhood.’

It’s as though she’s reading the script from her favourite soap. The hot anger inside me fights against the urgency of making her understand. ‘Zoë, stop! This is a daydream. We have to put a stop to it, OK? I’ll come with you. I’ll pay. Whatever you need. It doesn’t mean you’ll never be a mother, but you can’t have my kid.’

For the first time, she hears me. ‘You bastard. I thought you were different. But you’re as much of a user as the rest of them.’

‘No. I wanted to help you, but this isn’t the way.’

Her expression turns defiant. ‘Fine. I’ll do it alone. But don’t think I won’t get money, the CSA will take one look at your house and you won’t have a choice.’

I’m dizzy, disorientated. I need to end this farce. ‘They won’t let you keep a baby, you realize that. With our history?’

‘I’ve been clean for ages, even before we got together.’

‘Fuck’s sake, Zoë. It’s not all about you.’ I pull up my shirt. ‘See this?’ I point at the bump of my ICD, still foreign and grotesque even though it’s been a part of me for four years. ‘I’ve got a heart condition. Remember that night on the Level, when I first knew you? I died and this was all that brought me back.’

Doubt crosses Zoë’s face. ‘You had a fit.’

‘It wasn’t a fit. My heart is fucked, OK? I could pass it on. That’s why I don’t ever want to be a dad.’

Her hand touches her flat stomach. She’s not acting now. ‘The baby could be sick?’

I nod. ‘There’s a high chance I was born with whatever it is, so a baby could be too.’

‘No! I bought a pregnancy magazine. Its heart is already beating. I’m taking vitamins, I know it’ll be OK.’

For a few moments, I try to imagine becoming a parent. I don’t want to be with Zoë, but could we raise a kid together?

A kid with a heart that could fail at any time . . .