I am running out of hope when I meet Olivia.

The other two producers are people I wouldn’t trust to make a cup of tea, never mind make a programme that could change everything for me and Leo.

‘Look, you know how it goes, Joel. If you go on the journey yourself, we’re talking peak-time potential. Otherwise, you’ll struggle to get a daytime slot.’

She pulls a face. Olivia is already well beyond making daytime TV. She’s only a couple of years older than me, but she’s already getting a name for making tender but intelligent documentaries.

Her looks must help her convince interviewees to open their hearts. Those giant grey eyes convey sympathy and there’s a promise of a smile you want to work hard to see. She dresses in muted shades concealing what looks like a great figure.

‘So are you not interested in working with me?’ I ask. ‘I’d rather know now, save both of us time and energy.’

I wait as she thinks. The braying of the other media types bounces off the glass-and-maple walls of the private members’ club my dad chose for these meetings. The documentary was his idea: to explore the issues around genetic testing while going through the screening process with Leo, something I’ve been considering for years.

Things have moved on since my cardiac arrest thirteen years ago. Back then, they called it ‘idiopathic’ – it had no known cause. But now scientists have identified more faulty genes that might be to blame. If they find one of those in my DNA, they can also tell if I’ve passed it on to Leo.

The proposal appealed because I have been looking for a project with meaning, alongside the fluffier work that pays my brand-new mortgage. But there is one big issue. If it goes ahead, I’ll have to try to talk to Zoë. I already post her new photos of Leo every few months, with a note on what he’s doing and learning. I always end with an offer to arrange a meeting, but she’s only replied to me once, saying one day, when I’m in a better place.

Instead she sends him Christmas and birthday cards, signed, Mummy, who loves you and thinks of you every day. I agonized over whether it’d confuse him to see the cards, but in the end, it’s better for him to know she’s thinking about him. I try to make sure he isn’t missing out. Work lets me be there for everything that matters: concerts and hospital appointments, and sports days in the same playground where I used to kick a ball around.

‘Be honest with me, Joel,’ Olivia says at last. ‘Is this about your career or about the message?’

‘That makes a difference to you?’