‘I’d like that,’ she replies with a smile. ‘You know, I often see families at these sorts of events. Some taking part, some supporting. I’ve always felt unbearably jealous of them all.’

She stops. He watches her carefully as she puts her glass on the side, then picks up a bottle of gin. It feels like a well-rehearsed comment. Not so much offered into the conversation, but forced there with a crowbar. He waits as she pours a large measure of the alcohol into her glass, following it up with tonic. He’s not sure how to respond.

‘Is it…’ Steph starts, then pauses, taking a large swig of her drink. ‘Is it something you’ve ever thought about?’

‘Having a family?’ he asks.

‘Yes.’ She looks at him at last. Her gaze is wide, almost pleading.

‘I had a family.’

‘One of your own,’ she says quietly.

‘I…’ Robin stops. ‘I haven’t thought about it,’ he lies. He knows there is a definite right and wrong answer here; this is a discussion that could go badly wrong.

‘What? Never?’ she asks.

He’s already felt the previous good mood in the room evaporating, and now he stares down at his hands, feeling her close scrutiny.

‘Do we have to talk about this now?’ he tries, but she shakes her head, her shoulders rigid.

‘I was going to bring it up later, but now is as good a time as any. I’m thirty-seven, Rob,’ she continues. Her voice has lost its friendly edge, replaced by a dogged weariness he doesn’t like at all. ‘And I would like to have kids. I’ve wasted enough time.’ The saucepan’s still furiously boiling away next to her, but she ignores it. ‘You and I— When we first met, I enjoyed our little hook-ups, because that’s all they were. But now…’ She sighs. ‘I like you, Robin—’

‘I like you too—’

‘No.’ She shakes her head sadly. ‘I really like you. More than you like me, I suspect, and that feeling’s only going to get worse. I’d rather know now, before I get in too deep.’ She walks across to the kitchen table and sits opposite him; he knows what she’s going to ask. To get to the point she danced around earlier. ‘Do you want to have children, Rob?’

‘I…’ he begins. He always thought he would. Being a part of Alex and James’s short lives confirmed that to him. He knew then that he wanted kids of his own, little people to help form and grow and love. But the hard ball forming in the pit of his stomach as he thinks about it? That he can’t deny.

The thought of a baby in his life terrifies him. The idea that he would love someone, like he loved those boys, then lose them again? It would be too much.

‘I don’t know,’ he replies honestly. ‘Probably not.’