‘But what does Liv do with the baby she’s bought? Take it home to Dom and say, “Here’s my lover’s child and we’re going to raise it – hope that’s okay”?’

‘Don’t be daft.’

‘Then what?’

‘She gets Dom to give her some sperm. Tells him all about the surrogacy but pretends the kid’ll be his. Secretly, she, Gibbs, Nikhil and Natalie all know the truth – it’ll be Gibbs’ kid. Liv gets to raise the child of the man she loves, and Natalie probably gets paid extra for keeping quiet about the deception aspect.’

‘That’s beyond gross if it’s true,’ I say. ‘It’s too gross to be plausible, unless your sister’s a monster with no conscience. For God’s sake, whip out your badge in front of Natalie one day and make her tell you what’s going on. I would.’

‘Can’t.’ Charlie pulls into the car park of the Yeovil Playhouse. I look at the outside of the building, hoping for a hint, but it’s no use. This might be the venue I’m looking for or it might not. No way of knowing until I get inside.

‘Why not?’ I ask.

‘I work in Spilling, not for NYPD, so I don’t have a badge.’ Charlie grins. ‘And I want to find out secretly, so that I retain the advantage of surprise. Does that sound stupid?’

‘It sounds more disciplined than I’d be. I’d just want to know, any way I could. The quickest way.’

‘Maybe you’re right. But I’ve held out this long.’ Charlie sighs. ‘Come on, let’s go and stick our heads in.’

The Yeovil Playhouse is the wrong place. The inside of the building matches nothing in my memory. If I didn’t have documentary evidence proving I’d performed here, I’d be convinced I’d walked into this auditorium for the first time today.

‘No,’ I say to Charlie.

‘Definite no?’

I stare at the curved rows of black seats. The walls and even the ceiling are black too. ‘Definite.’

‘Okay, good. One more ruled out. We’re narrowing it down. Do you need the loo or shall we hit the road? Wait, that’s my phone.’ She pulls it out of her pocket. ‘Hi. Yes, we’re making good progress,’ she says, then mouths ‘Simon’ at me. ‘No, not yet … Good progress in the sense of ruling places out. What? We’re going as fast as we can, Simon. It’s not my fault the UK’s roads are the length they are. Really? Go on. You’re joking? Fuck.’ Charlie looks at me, then quickly looks away. ‘No, I won’t. That won’t be a problem. Tell me.’