"Indeed. It takes one to know one."

Susie grinned up at me, slipped her arm through mine and led me along the hall.

"How're you feeling now, by the way?" I asked her. "Still sore?"

She stopped at the bedroom door. "Not so's you'd notice."

Nine.

I'd left the Edinburgh accommodation problem to Greg McPhillips. Life is ironic; he used to give me work, now he was getting so much from me that he'd almost become my personal assistant.

He called me on Thursday morning with a proposition. "I know this chartered surveyor in Edinburgh," he began. Everybody knows a chartered fucking surveyor in Edinburgh, there are so many of them, and especially in the city centre pubs, but Greg's a boy for long preambles so I let him stroll on.

The tale took a couple of twists before it settled down with a property developer who lived mostly off-shore but retained a duplex apartment on top of a building which he had refurbished in the Old Town, and which he was prepared to rent, fully furnished, of course, to the right clients, for the right amount of money.

Greg hadn't seen it himself, but his pal had assured him that the place was worth a look, so I drove back to the capital that afternoon, in Susie's M3 once again, but giving it its head all the way this time ..

. subject to normal speed limits of course, officer.

The surveyor, a serious-looking, bespectacled guy named Luke Edgar, met me on the pavement at the Mound, about halfway between the Bank of Scotland head office and the temporary home of the Scottish Parliament.

At first, I had no idea where we were going, but when he walked ten yards to an anonymous wooden front door I knew right away.

The building is probably the oldest surviving tenement in Edinburgh, and certainly the tallest. It wasn't the CN Tower, as I looked up at it, but it went pretty high by Old Town standards. I knew the story; it had been bought and tastefully refurbished by the developer, a well known Edinburgh guy with a celebrated Midas touch, and a reputation as the best spotter of opportunities in the business.

He had made a good job of the Mound, that's for sure. The apartment towered over Princes Street, and looked panoramically across the city,

west, north and east. I knew I was going to take it as soon as I walked through the door, although I made a show of haggling with earnest Edgar.

There was a big reception room downstairs; I hit on that right away. We could use it for cast meetings, read-the roughs and even rehearsals. I took a look at the kitchen; everything was state of the art. There were two bedrooms off the living area and two more upstairs; a couple more than I needed, but there would be plenty of room for a makeshift nursery if I could persuade Susie to bring the baby through to see her dad at weekends. To cap it all off, there was a superb Bang and Olufsen sound system, with speakers wired into every room in the place.

It didn't take long to do the deal. Greg's pal won the haggling hands down; he didn't budge on his price and I caved in quick .. . what the hell, Miles was picking up the tab anyway. We shook hands on a three-month lease, with an option to extend on a month-by-month basis if shooting overran, and arranged that I would sign next day and move in whenever I liked.

I was pretty chuffed as I drove back through to Glasgow. I knew that Susie would like the apartment, and I was pretty confident that we'd wind up playing house at weekends, for a while at least.

Life, I thought, was indeed a bowl of bloody cherries, and great big red ones, at that.

Ten.

I persuaded Susie to help me move in on the Saturday, and to stay over, with the baby, for the weekend. She's always been very much a Glaswegian, and therefore pretty dismissive of Edinburgh, but when she saw the place, even she was impressed.

"You've got this thing about eyries, haven't you," she said, as she looked out across the Mound. "Your old flat in Edinburgh was a loft, then you bought the Glasgow place, which looks over everything, and the villa in Spain. I'll bet you had a view in California as well.

Right?"

I thought of the crashing Pacific waves. "True," I admitted. "It's the way I was brought up."

"Rubbish," she laughed. "It's you, Blackstone. You've either got a voyeuristic streak, or it's sheer paranoia .. . you're afraid of the idea of anyone looking in on you."

I hadn't thought about it before, but she'd a point. I've always liked high places. I broke my arm once falling out of a tree; not even that discouraged me.

"I don't think I'm a voyeur. As for being paranoid," I said, as I thought about recent events, 'if I am, it's been justifiable a few times in my past. You know that well enough."

A cloud crossed her face, briefly; I guessed who might have been behind it. "Do you think about him much?" I asked her.

She chewed her lip. "Mike? I think about him as infrequently as I can possibly manage .. . which is still quite a lot. I envy you, in one way; when you think about Jan, you think warm. I can't do that. Funny, I don't feel bitter about Jack Gantry, but I do about Michael Dylan."

"Then try not to; Mike was weak, but most of us are. He loved you."

"No he didn't," she snapped. "If he had he'd have stayed with me, and not got involved in all the stuff that got him killed. And when that happened, he was leaving me, remember."

I couldn't argue with that one; I'd been there, and I knew she was right. "Did you love him?" I asked her.

"I thought so at the time, but not now. I really don't think I've ever loved anyone, not till last Saturday morning."

"Don't let him put you off, Susie."

"Ah, but he has. I wouldn't know where to begin loving a man. All I want is to feel safe."

"Do you feel safe with me?"

"Most of the time. When we're together I do. I like being with you, Oz, but I'll never trust another man after Mike, and I sure as hell wouldn't trust you. I know you too well. How many women have you slept with since last January?"

"One."

She threw me a quick, guilty grin. "I've misjudged you, then; sorry."

"No, you haven't. I never touched Prim after what happened in Spain; neither of us wanted to. She never forgot you and I never forgot Barcelona. There was someone else, though, someone in L'Escala, but it was complicated. It shouldn't have happened, but it did. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologise to me, remember? You're a free man.

Anyway, what's complicated about nooky?"

"In this case, the lady was married ... to the guy Prim ran off with after she was tipped off about us."

"I see. You were all getting even, then."

"Vero might have been, but I wasn't. You had shown me the real Oz Blackstone by that time; you'd taught me about myself. Completely devoid of conscience, remember."

Susie looked at me, indignantly. "Sounds as if I taught you too bloody well!" The look became a frown; she doesn't do that too often. "But you've told me about her. Why?"

"You asked."

She snorted. "And you told me, just like that! Do you think so little of me?"

"Far from it; I should have told you before. It was a secret between

US." f

"Why didn't you let it stay that way? Are you just trying to put me in my place?"

I looked at her. I had come clean without thinking, but I knew why I had done it. "I told you because I didn't want it there any more. It's a part of my past that I'm not proud of, and I didn't want it lying between us like a land mine I stepped up to her and put my hands on her waist. "You said you felt safe with me, Susie. I want you always to feel that way, and I promise you that you always will be."