He was in a crappy mood when Doctor Clermont called him in for his appointment. His date with Claudia last night had sucked. And that was his fault. He should never have asked her out, not when he knew he wasn’t genuinely interested. Obviously, his lack of interest had shone through in his weak conversation game and she’d grown progressively more irritated throughout the night. Eventually she’d faked an emergency phone call and ditched him just before the desserts came out.

He was left with mini lemon-meringue pies and liqueur-dipped strawberries — neither of which were his choices — and found himself staring at the table where he’d sat with Sage the night she’d pretended to be his girlfriend. He needed to get her out of his mind. She’d been clear that she wasn’t interested in anything more with him, so why was he wasting his time thinking about her?

And now this doctor’s appointment was another waste of his time — time which could be spent working on his book. But he felt guilty about lying to Charlotte and was keen to tick this off so he could stop feeling bad.

Of course, the reality that even if he was sitting in front of the computer he still wouldn’t be able to get a single word written was beside the point right now. He was pissed off at the world and ready to take it out on anyone. He supposed the upcoming anniversary of his dad’s death wasn’t helping. And as Christmas loomed, it was becoming harder and harder to keep the grief at bay. He bloody-well missed him.

He followed Doctor Clermont into her office and she motioned for him to take a seat, smiling warmly at him as she sat down at her desk. ‘What brings you in today?’ she asked.

‘I need a check-up. I’m donating my sperm to a friend.’ He’d tried to say it with a casual, confident air, but of course his voice went up on the word sperm. Sometimes he felt like he’d always be an awkward fourteen-year-old boy on the inside.

‘Ah, I see. That’s very generous of you.’

He shrugged. ‘It’s no big deal.’

‘I’m sure it is to the friend you’re donating to. All right, let’s start with your history.’

Doctor Clermont began asking him questions about his past health issues, which were minimal — a hernia when he was a teenager and eczema when he was a kid. She quizzed him on his family medical history, his current relationship status and sexual activity and asked him if he’d sought legal advice.

He hadn’t realised there would be so many questions.

She was printing out a pathology request form for his blood and urine tests when she leaned forward abruptly and said, ‘That mole on the side of your neck. Has that always been there?’