My guess had been spot on. "Christ, Alison, I don't even know the guy.

Why can't you ask him? Okay, so he pinched your boyfriend's bird once.

Big deal. If you talk to him he might fancy his chances of doing it again."

"That's one reason why I can't," she shot back. "But it goes deeper than that. Ewan does not like his name being over the door of our company. He wrote to us and asked us to call ourselves something else, but David wouldn't hear of it. He can't do anything about it... I mean, he doesn't hold the copyright on it or anything .. . but his father told David's father that Ewan thinks we're cashing in on his fame, and he's furious about it. Even David's father and uncle aren't speaking now because of it.

"No, I can't talk to him; it would be difficult even if David would let me. Help me, Oz, you're our only hope."

"Fuck me! You sound just like Carrie Fisher in Star Wars. Listen, I may have entered Jedi as my religion on the last census form, but it doesn't mean I am one. I'm a supporting actor; he is big time. I've got no grease with the man; he'll barely even say hello to me on set."

"Oz, you could talk anybody into anything if you put your mind to it.

My God, you talked your way into me, and no one had done that before."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? You reckon I could do it again, then?"

She looked at me, over her glass; I saw that her hand was trembling, very slightly. "If that's what it takes to get you to talk to Ewan,"

she whispered.

I nodded towards the door. "In advance?"

"Okay."

I turned to the barman and made a 'two more' sign. "You can relax," I told her. "You don't have to shag me into it; I'll talk to him for you. I'll do more than that; if Capperauld tells me to piss off, I'll ask Miles Grayson to do it. Mr. Torrent will not turn him down, I guarantee you."

Her face lit up; it reminded me of the time I gave her a week in Playa del Ingles for Christmas .. . hey, big spender.

"You will? You're wonderful, Oz. I knew I could rely on you. Hell, let's go to your place; I'll sleep with you anyway."

I laughed. "You must be really attached to that fiance of yours."

"Never mind him .. . this is a special occasion! We can call it for old times' sake."

"My dear, bitter experience has taught me that going over old ground for the sake of it is always a bad idea. If it wasn't right then, it wouldn't be right now. And anyway.. . although I am astonished to hear myself say this ... I can't."

The way she smiled at me made me feel good. "The girl in Glasgow? The one who had your baby?"

I nodded.

"What are you doing in Edinburgh, then?"

"Taking things one step at a time."

"Is it really her, or is it the baby?"

"Until now I'd have said it was wee Jan, but the truth is, it's her too."

"I'm happy for you."

"Don't be, not yet. It might not work. Just let me be happy for you."

A cloud crossed her face, as the barman put down two more drinks on the table. I gave him another tenner and told him to keep the change.

"What's up?" I asked as he left. "You not so sure about him any more?"

"I was ready to go to bed with you, wasn't I?"

"Millions are. Has the business got more important than him, is that it? It could be that way with Susie and me, you know. Up to now, her company's been her life. There's a lot of adjusting to be done."

"Maybe. Probably. Yes. But that's not what's wrong, or not all of it, at any rate. It's David. I don't know where he is."

"What do you mean? Have you looked under the bed?"

"I'm serious. Anyway, we don't live together. No, I haven't seen him for nearly a week; he hasn't been into the office since Monday, and he hasn't been answering the phone at home. I went round to see him on Wednesday, and then again on Friday, but he wasn't in either time."

"Has he done this before?"

Alison shook her head. "No, never. He's Mr. Reliable, usually. I don't know what to make of it."

"One of two things, I'd guess; he's either lost his nerve over this problem client of yours and done a runner, or he'll turn up tomorrow morning smelling very faintly of a fragrance which is not on your dressing table."

She pouted. "He wouldn't do either of those things."

"You were ready to do the second. Why shouldn't he be? What's his phone number?" She recited it; I took out my mobile, punched it in and handed it to her. She listened for a while then shook her head.

"Answering machine."

"Doesn't mean he's not there; I do that all the time. Where does he live?"

"In Union Street, opposite the Playhouse Theatre. Why?"

"Let's go there now, the two of us, and thump on his door."

"I couldn't do that."

"You did already."

"Yes, but not with you."

"He'll answer the door if he's in there and I thump it. If he's got a bird in there he's hardly going to open it if he thinks it's you, is he?"

She killed half of her second drink. "I suppose not. Okay, let's do it. But if he has got someone with him, will you at least pretend that you're sleeping with me?"

"How big is he?"

"About half your size."

"Okay."

Fourteen.