She lowers herself slowly into one of the kitchen chairs. She points to the one next to her and he sits down.

‘How, exactly, do you think this baby’s yours?’ she asks slowly.

‘That night I was drunk and you stayed over. You said we didn’t sleep together—’

‘There you go then.’

He regards her cautiously. ‘So you’re saying nothing happened.’

‘Did it?’

She’s toying with him, and he doesn’t like it. ‘Liv, please. I need you to be honest with me.’

She leans back in her chair and sighs, rubbing the large bump. ‘Look. I didn’t ask you to come here. I don’t want anything from you. So, what’s the problem?’

‘The problem is, if this is my baby, I don’t want to be one of those shitty dads that abandons his kid.’

‘So what are you going to do? Propose? Make an honest woman of me?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Liv.’

‘So you’re going to throw a bit of cash my way, is that it?’ She gestures round the room. ‘I don’t need your money, I’m doing okay. One advantage of my sister dying is that she left behind something more valuable than her shitty, spiteful company. If it wasn’t for DC West showing up at my college, you would never have known.’

‘So whose is it, Liv?’

‘You weren’t the only guy around at the time, Robin,’ she says, her voice sharp. ‘If you remember, I literally had a queue of guys lining up to fuck me. And do a lot more besides.’

‘So we did sleep together. Why did you tell me we didn’t?’

‘Because you were clearly so horrified at the idea.’ She shrugs. ‘Life is a lot easier when you can live in ignorance. Didn’t you prefer it before your pretty little detective told you the news?’

He stays silent. He can’t deny it. The idea of having a child, especially one with Liv, was not something he was relishing.

‘So get out, Robin,’ Liv continues. ‘We didn’t need you before, and we don’t need you now. Me and this little guy will be fine without you.’

‘It’s a boy?’

Liv sighs. ‘Yes. Look, you’ve done your bit. You’re guilt-free, Detective Butler. You turned up at my door and I told you to sod off. So go.’

He stands up, but pauses.

‘Go,’ she repeats.

He walks out of the house, his head bent. What did he think would happen? That she would fall into his arms, grateful and desperate?

Liv’s right, she’s doing okay. The house is nice, and by all reports she’s carving out a new career for herself.

But he can’t just leave. He pulls out his notebook, scribbling his number on one of the pages. He hurries back to her front door, then pushes it through the letter box.