He kisses her again, stronger this time, and she’s not hanging around, undoing enough buttons on his shirt so he can pull it over his head. He finds the cursed hidden zip at the side of her dress, and tugs it down.

This is new. A bra and knickers he hasn’t seen before – he would have remembered these. But they don’t last long, and nor do his trousers and boxers. They fall together on the bed, him on top of her, and for the first time their connection feels like it could be something more permanent. Something he’ll want to do more often.

After, they lie on their backs on the bed, and Robin pulls the duvet across to keep them warm.

‘Can I have that drink now?’ she asks, running her fingers down his chest.

‘Whisky or beer?’

‘Whisky.’

He gets up to fetch it, feeling very naked, her eyes on him as he puts on a pair of boxers, then goes to the kitchen. When he comes back, she’s pulled on his shirt, legs still bare, and is standing looking at the narrow bookcase in the corner of his bedroom.

He hands her the tumbler and stands next to her. She has a book in her hand, an old hardback of Charlotte’s Web.

‘What’s the story behind this?’ she asks, putting it back on the shelf.

He looks at the line of books. A few Famous Fives, a battered copy of Roald Dahl’s The Twits and George’s Marvellous Medicine.

‘They were my sister’s.’

‘Were?’

‘She’s dead.’

He reaches down and picks up a photo frame. It’s an old one, but his favourite. In it, Georgia is laughing with the twins balanced one on each knee – a chaotic shot, nobody’s facing forward, nobody looking where they should be, but one that Robin’s always thought summed them up the best. Full of love, and chaos, and laughter.

He holds it out to her, and she takes it.

‘James and Alex,’ he says, pointing to the boys in turn. ‘They were two when they died. Georgia was thirty-eight.’

He can’t bear to look at it any more, and goes back to sit on the bed. Steph slowly puts the frame back on the bookcase and joins him, pulling the duvet up to cover them.

‘How did they die?’ she asks quietly.

He looks at the ice cubes in his glass, and swirls the brown liquid. ‘Car accident. A guy in an SUV ploughed into the side of them while they were stopped at traffic lights. Killed Georgia and James instantly. Alex was on the other side of the car, and he held on for two days in hospital before he died too.’ Steph rests her head on his chest but he can’t look at her. ‘The guy was drunk. Three times over the legal limit.’

‘I’m so sorry.’