Already I’m wondering what he looks like, the child of this man I love.

I recall my niece as a plump, rosy-cheeked newborn. Something tells me Zoë’s baby is in altogether worse shape. ‘Have you seen him yet?’

He shakes his head. ‘No. She says she doesn’t want me to know him and I think she’s right. It’s easier that way, for all of us. It doesn’t have to affect our relationship at all.’

‘You’re not serious?’

‘It doesn’t change anything, Kerry. It was Zoë’s choice, not mine, so I don’t need to get involved. We have to focus on our plans, right?’ He pulls out his phone. ‘I’ve been looking at rental flats, the last thing we want is to live in the den—’

I recoil. ‘You have a child, Joel. A son. Don’t you want to know what he’s like, how he is?’

Joel shrugs. ‘Why would I? Look, I’m only telling you now because I don’t want us to have secrets from each other. He’ll probably be adopted and even if he’s not, kids grow up without their dads in their lives all the time. Look at Tim . . .’

‘You’re bringing Tim into this?’

‘Well, he’s done OK.’

But he hasn’t. If his father hadn’t left, he’d have been allowed to be a child for longer, instead of becoming sole carer for his mother. Everything in his life might be different now.

‘You don’t know anything about Tim or what he’s been through. You’ve always had parents with money who’ve bailed you out no matter what.’

‘All right. I’m sorry. I just think we should focus on our future. You and me, together, after all this time.’

The future is not what I thought it would be.

Joel is not who I thought he was.

‘You and me,’ I repeat.

‘Oh come on, it’s me that’s in shock, Kerry. I don’t even know where she had the kid. They could be in Blackpool or Llandudno or Timbuktu for all I know.’

‘And that lets you off the hook, does it? You get to walk away, leaving your premature child with a girl who can barely take care of herself. In what universe is that the right thing to do?’

‘How am I meant to find him? I don’t even know the kid’s name.’ He lifts his Coke to his lips, then slams it down again on the table. ‘Look, he’ll probably be adopted, right? He’ll grow up with parents who want him, not a junkie and an ex-junkie.’

I stare at him. ‘You’ve made your mind up?’

He frowns. ‘I made my mind up when I was seventeen. I don’t want kids. Fuck, I don’t need this, I need a proper drink.’