‘That… I don’t know,’ he moans. ‘Did we…’

‘Shag? No.’

‘Oh, thank god,’ he sighs. Then realises what he’s said. ‘Not that… You’re not… you’re very good-looking… it’s just…’

She’s obviously enjoying his discomfort. ‘No offence taken. You were so drunk the taxi wouldn’t take you unless I came along. And then I stayed the night. Just slept here, next to you. Same bed. I was worried about you puking again and choking on your own vomit.’

‘Again?’ He runs his tongue round his teeth. They’re furry and sour. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he repeats.

‘It’s fine, really. It made for a nice change. Did you know you have a Dorset accent when you’re drunk? You sound like a farmer.’ She goes around to the head of the bed and sits next to him, resting against the pillows.

‘It’s Devon. Where I grew up.’

She reaches across him and passes him the glass of water on his bedside table. ‘Drink something.’

He leans up awkwardly and takes a sip. The water is insanely refreshing and he takes another gulp.

‘Did I try and sleep with you?’ Robin asks.

‘No, not at all. You kept calling me Georgia.’

‘My sister,’ Robin says quietly.

‘That explains it.’

Robin thinks about the many times his sister helped him home after a night out. Put him to bed, like Liv did last night. She’s been on his mind more recently, after Liam’s missed call. Now spilling out into his subconscious when pissed.

‘I was thinking about what you said, about how Jonathan died,’ Liv says.

‘Oh, no. I shouldn’t have told you that. That’s confidential. Please…’ he begs.

‘My lips are sealed. I promise. But I’ve had some experience with auto-erotic asphyxiation.’

Robin looks over at her.

‘Not me,’ she continues. ‘But men who want me to do it to them. I tried it with one client. It scared me.’ She shakes her head, looking thoughtfully into her tea. ‘Never again.’

‘What happened?’

‘He went blue, passed out. We must have pulled too tight, I don’t know. I had to do mouth-to-mouth. He came round, begged me not to call 999.’

‘Lucky guy.’

‘For me too. Can you imagine? Do you think the wife was doing it to him, to Jonathan? Maybe it went wrong and she panicked.’

‘She has an alibi.’

‘Ah.’ Liv shakes her head again, her hair falling prettily over her shoulders. In another life, maybe, Robin thinks, they might have had a future. ‘He didn’t strike me as that type, though,’ she adds.

Robin sits up more in the bed. The water is helping, hydrating his poor addled brain.

‘The men that want it. It’s not their first rodeo, you know?’ Liv looks at him, and he nods. ‘They try a few things first. BDSM, role play, pain. This is their next big thing. You know what I’m saying?’