Her eyes softened; so did her voice. "What does that mean?" she whispered.

"I don't know. Just that you and the baby are now the two most important people in my life, and it will stay that way. I love wee Janet with all my heart; she turns my insides to mush. And how could I love her without loving her mother as well?"

She pressed her forehead against my chest and I held her to me. "Shut up, Blackstone," she murmured. "Don't complicate things."

"How am I doing that?"

She looked up. "I'm afraid of you, man, don't you understand that? I'm afraid that you'll be another Dylan; he was a scheming, ambitious bastard, and so are you .. . well, ambitious, at least. Mike didn't have the wit or the balls to achieve his ambitions, but you do. I'm afraid that if I commit myself to you, those ambitions .. . not to mention your heretofore extremely promiscuous dick.. . will lead you away from me, and I'll get hurt again, only worse."

"You're wrong about me there," I protested. "I've never had a properly thought-out ambition in my life. Everything that's happened to me has been by accident, until I've got where I am. I like doing what I'm doing now; I don't plan to do anything else, until I go out of fashion.

By then, I'll have enough dough to enjoy a nice long retirement. Shit, I have now.

"And as far as my.. . sorry.. . our pal down there's concerned, he's had a right few opportunities over the last few months, in Canada and in California, and he hasn't risen to a single one."

She was smiling again; I was happy about that. "Are you telling me that from the time you went to the States at the end of January, until last Wednesday night, you were celibate?"

"I'm afraid so."

"That beggars belief. Why?"

"I wasn't sure, until right now. Remember what you said the other night, about me being able to walk back through your door any time I like? Remember I said that might not cut both ways? Well it does. I don't want anyone but you."

One of those long silences sprang up between us, like a barrier, until Susie knocked it down.

"Is that so? Well, do you remember when I said I didn't care if you did or not? That wasn't exactly true either. I care all right. You're not going to make me say I love you, but I care."

She pushed me away and held me at arms' length. "That doesn't mean I trust you, mind. When the baby and I go back to Glasgow, you'll be a boy-about-town again. It'll be just like it was when you were here before. You're on probation, Oz. I want to make damn sure you don't revert to type, before I start believing any promises." Her eyes narrowed. "You will be honest with me, yes?"

Mine widened. "Totally." I meant it.

"I'll believe that much, then. We tell each other everything. When you're working here we spend as many weekends as we can together.

Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"What happens when this picture's finished?"

"I'm going to Vancouver. You and Janet coming?"

"We'll see about that... if we get that far."

Eleven.

I wasn't one hundred per cent sure what we'd agreed when Susie took the baby back to Glasgow the following night, to be ready for the arrival of the nanny next day.

I knew that whatever it was I liked the idea, and I felt more at peace than I had done since Jan had died. I knew also that I'd better get my head around Miles's new movie, since there wasn't that much time left.

Obviously, I'd skimmed through the script before I'd taken the part.

The story was fast-moving and exciting, with a slam-bang climax, set in some familiar locations in and around Edinburgh, and I decided to read the book to get myself under the skin of my character. The hero was a senior police detective called Bob Skinner, a real hard bastard; I was playing his sidekick, a guy around my own age by the name of Andy Martin.

The first thing I read about Martin pulled me up short; the author described him as muscular... I could manage that okay, given the gym work I was in the habit of doing ... and as having curly blond hair, and green contact lenses.

The dye job I could live with, but I saw a problem with the contacts. I can't stand having even a tiny piece of grit in my eye. I was sufficiently worried to call Miles ... the apartment came complete with a phone and cable television.

He laughed when I told him about my problem. "You say you're okay about the dye job? Did you ever see the remake of The Jackal? Christ, you might not be flavour of the month with Dawn right now, but I still wouldn't do that to you. You can forget the contacts too. Dark hair and blue eyes will do for the part.

"How's tricks, anyway?"

His amiability reassured me; Miles had given me an easy time of it as director of my first two projects. I didn't know if I could handle it if he started to have a go at me on set.

"Fine. Everything's fine."

"How are the girls?"

"The baby's great and so's her mum. Susie's going back to work herself in a couple of days, once the new nanny's settled in."

"Nothing changes, eh. She's a powerhouse, that girl. You two gonna live together?"

"Part-time, probably. I've rented a place in Edinburgh; that's where I am now. You'll like it, I think." I described the apartment.

"Sounds great," Miles said, when I had finished. "You're right; I plan to shoot as much of this movie as possible on location, so we'll need a place for rehearsals, team meetings and so on.

"In fact, there's one I'll set up right away. I've hired a technical adviser, an ex-policeman. He's got the script, and he knows the book.

I want him to brief the cast before we start shooting, but first I want to meet him myself. Your place will bg perfect for that. Dawn and I get into Edinburgh on Wednesday. I'll arrange it for Thursday morning, ten sharp, then we'll have a cast meeting that afternoon. Gimme the address and phone number, and I'll circulate them to him and everyone else." 5

I did as he asked then went back to the book. The more I read about the now dark-haired Andy Martin, the more I realised how tough he was supposed to be. I hadn't lifted anything heavier than Susie for ten days, so I called the Edinburgh Club, the best fitness centre in town, and checked out their opening hours.

I booked myself in for Monday morning, then went back to Detective Chief Inspector Martin. I'd have read it from cover to cover had I not begun to feel hungry, at around seven o'clock.

I checked the fridge and found it almost bare, apart from some milk, a few tomatoes and an egg. I was almost out of bread too .. . Susie and I had only picked up a few groceries and had sent out for pizza the night before.

I was also out of transport. A car can be an inconvenience in central Edinburgh, but these days not having one is a bigger inconvenience still. I had almost decided to take a taxi to Sainsbury's, when the obvious occurred to me. I was a lad alone in the city; where else would I go?

I hadn't seen Ali in a couple of years, but I knew he'd be there; the boy really was open all hours. His shop was a bit more than halfway down the Royal Mile, round the corner from my old loft and still no more than ten minutes' walk from my new digs.

He was behind the counter when I walked in, his back to the door as I closed it silently. As usual he was wearing a turban; if it was meant to be white it wasn't, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt and decided that it was cream. I don't know what religion Ali is, and I've never asked. I do know that with him the turban is a fashion statement, nothing more.

"Shop!" I called out; he spun round, eyes widening as he saw me.

"Hey," he yelled, startling an old lady who was peering into the frozen food container. "It's the fuckin' Oz man; the fuckin' movie star.

Hullawrerr, Big Man, slummin' it the night, eh! Of all the bastards, eh!" As well as being one of the most accessible grocers in Scotland, my old friend is also one of the most foul-mouthed.

The old lady looked at me briefly, sniffed, and went back to perusing the frozen peas. I recognised her, vaguely, from the old days in the lounge bar in the pub down the road.

"Ah saw you wir back in town," Ali proclaimed. He sells newspapers, so that came as no surprise. "Fuckin' big dark horse you, eh. You don't jist dip yer wick, no' you. You dip it in the richest bird in Glesca'.

Some man, right enough. How's the wean, onyway?"

"My daughter is very well thank you, Ali. Eight days old and growing more lovely with every passing moment... more than I can say for yourself."