Georgia would cook the same. Her bacon was always crispy to the point of being burnt, her fried eggs always broken, but he never cared. She’d sit and listen to his tales of woe: he was always the dumped, never the one doing the dumping, driving his girlfriends to the point of desperation so that they had no choice but to split up with him. He was never cruel, just neglectful. Forgetting birthdays, working overtime, constantly late. Georgia would roll her eyes, say, ‘Rob, you’ll never fall in love if you don’t try.’ Then stand up and offer him another cup of coffee.

Later, Liam joined them for these post-mortems, enjoying the perk of his own bacon sarnie, while he half listened in contemplative silence.

‘Perhaps they’re just not right for you, Rob,’ he’d say at last. ‘When you’re ready, you’ll know.’

‘And you knew, did you, love?’ Georgia would say, dropping a kiss on her husband’s cheek.

And he’d reply, ‘From the moment I saw you,’ looking up adoringly at his wife.

Sitting here, remembering the obvious love between his brother-in-law and his sister, makes Robin think again about the reason they don’t speak any more.

It was a Sunday, like this one. Robin was alone, as usual, when he heard the knock on his door. He was about to answer it, when the man’s voice shouted through.

‘Please,’ the voice said. ‘I just want to talk,’ and Robin knew who it was.

He’d had letters already, short calls on the phone. Trevor Stevens wanted to apologise for murdering his family. And he could go to hell.

Robin opened the door a crack, but not enough for the man to see through.

‘Fuck off,’ he shouted in return. ‘I don’t want to talk to you.’

‘Please…’

‘Fuck. Off,’ Robin yelled, with so much intensity it made his throat ache, then slammed the door in his face.

He got straight on the phone to Liam. ‘He came here,’ he said, the force of his anger still reverberating in his body.

‘And did you talk to him?’

‘No.’

Liam paused. ‘Maybe you should, Robin,’ he replied.

Robin was speechless. ‘You did? You spoke to that bastard?’

‘Yes,’ Liam said softly. ‘He wanted to apologise, so I let him.’

‘You’ve forgiven him? I can’t… I can’t believe you would do this to her. To the boys.’

‘I haven’t…’ Liam started, but Robin hung up, hurling his phone across the room in disgust.

And that was it. The beginning of a series of arguments between them. Liam trying to explain his point of view, even sending a letter that Robin furiously screwed up into a ball and binned. He could never understand. Liam forgiving the man who’d killed his family? No. Just no.