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happening?’
    ‘I’ve been offered a steady gig two nights a week inthat jazz club I took you to – The Blue Note. This guy, Gerry, really good jazz guitarist, and a singer, woman called Kat. Amazing voice. Really soulful. I played with them a few times in New York in a couple of gigs and one or two sessions. They’re good.’
    ‘American?’
    ‘No. Scottish. Kat studied there for a while, but most of the work they do is session work. She’s trying to make it as a singer. She’s good enough, but it’s tough out there.’
    ‘Are they together?’ Rosie asked, annoyed at the twinge of jealousy she felt.
    TJ looked at her as though he could see out of the back of her head. She felt herself blush.
    ‘No.’ He drew on his cigarette. ‘Why?’
    ‘Nothing,’ Rosie looked away. ‘Just wondered.’
    ‘Yeah.’ TJ studied her face. ‘Sure you did.’ He sighed, reached over and took her hand. ‘Rosie. What’s with the insecurity? You never used to be like this.’
    Rosie swallowed and looked at the table.
    ‘I never cared this much before.’ She got up and moved over to the sink. ‘Come on. I’ll help clean up this mess. It’s like a car crash in here.’ She started scraping leftovers into the bin, and rinsing plates under the tap before placing them in the dishwasher. Her stomach was in knots. What the hell was happening to her? All TJ did was mention that he was going to be working with some dame he’d met in New York and it was enough to set off a rush of paranoia. This has got to stop, she told herself. Suddenly she felt TJ’s arms around her waist and he buried his face in her hair.
    ‘Leave that, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘Time enough for that.’ He ran his hands over her breasts and down her thighs, pushing her against the sink.
    Rosie ran the water over the cutlery as TJ nuzzled her neck and put his hand between her legs, gently squeezing her. He took her hand and turned off the tap. Rosie could hear his breathing quicken.
    ‘Leave it, Rosie,’ he said again, turning her around and easing her T-shirt over her head. They kissed hard and emphatically, then TJ stopped suddenly and for a few seconds their eyes locked in silence. He took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom.
    *
    Their sleep was broken by Rosie’s mobile ringing on TJ’s bedside table. For a moment, she couldn’t work out where she was, until she blinked two or three times and took in her surroundings, the morning sunlight streaming through the blinds. She groaned as she reached over and lifted the phone. No name, and a number she didn’t recognise.
    ‘Hello?’ Rosie cleared her throat, gravelly from too many cigarettes.
    ‘Hello? Is Rosie?’
    ‘Yes. It’s Rosie.’
    ‘Is Emir. I am Emir. I meet you yesterday.’
    Rosie sat up and shook herself awake.
    ‘Emir! Hello. Yes. How are you? You okay?’
    Silence.
    ‘Emir? You there?’
    ‘Yes. You can meet me? You come?’
    ‘Yes, Emir, I’ll come. To Balornock?’
    ‘No. Not there. In city, in Central Station. Starbuck cafe.’
    ‘Yes. Okay. When?’
    ‘In one hour. Is okay? You be there?’
    ‘Yes, Emir, I’ll be there. Wait for me. Please.’ The line went dead. Rosie sank back into the pillow. She was glad they hadn’t drunk the second bottle of wine last night. She may not have had much sleep, but at least she wasn’t hung over. She felt TJ’s arms around her; he pulled her towards him.
    ‘C’mon, Rosie. It’s Saturday morning.’
    ‘I know.’ She put her arms around him, but she looked at her watch. She needed to be up, showered and ready to talk to Emir within an hour. She didn’t have time for this.
    TJ pulled her close and kissed her.
    ‘You’re not concentrating, Gilmour.’
    ‘I am,’ Rosie laughed.
    TJ rolled onto his back, shaking his head.
    ‘You’ll never change. Get to work. You drive me nuts.’

CHAPTER 4
    Rosie was perched on a stool at a podium near the window of Starbucks, a perfect vantage point where she could people-watch