'Pleased to meet you, Nina Rogers!' Jack smiled, shaking her hand.
'I'm at the Uni, you wouldn't believe how difficult it is to find somewhere to stay.'
'I can imagine-'
'They're all really expensive or really grotty, or both, I went to this one place, and I swear there were things living in the walls.'
Jack glanced towards Gwen, neither quite sure if they should be worried.
'Like cockroaches or something,' Nina added, her eyes never leaving Jack's face. 'The old guy there probably breeds them, he smelt like the sort, y'know… mouldy… He wore this cardigan that I swear would have stood up on its own, weird guy, wouldn't have stayed there even if the place had been nice, you just can tell about some people, can't you? Not the sort of people you want calling for the rent, if you know what I mean…'
'And breathe…' muttered Gwen with a smile.
'Sorry!' said Nina, rolling her eyes. 'I go on, don't I? Anyway, I've got the advert somewhere…' She dug around in her bag. 'I don't know you, do I?' she said, still looking at Jack.
'Wouldn't be surprised,' Gwen told herself in the SUV's wing mirror.
'I don't think so,' Jack replied with a slight frown.
'He gets around.' Gwen added.
'Here it is!' Nina pulled the advert out. 'Julia Wallace, place called Jackson Leaves.'
'Full, I'm afraid,' Jack said quickly.
'Oh no!' Nina sighed.
'I know. We've actually just come from there. Known the place for years… Hope you find somewhere nice, though.'
Jack headed quickly towards Gwen and the SUV.
'Why did you say that?' Gwen asked. 'You know Julia's looking for tenants.'
'I'm sure the place is OK now, but let's not take the risk. Besides, it's not like Julia will need the money once she cashes in that ticket. It's all worked out just fine, hasn't it?'
Gwen frowned as she glanced at a 'lost' poster on a nearby lamp post — Hannah Ogilvy smiling in an old Christmas photo, paper hat on her head and Christmas-tree earrings that were as jolly as her smile. 'Not for everyone,' she said.
'No,' Jack replied, 'but sometimes you just have to settle for the majority- Watch it!' he shouted as a teenaged boy shoved past him and ran off up the road. 'Wait a minute…' he began checking his pockets.
Gwen was laughing. 'Did you not see who that was?' she asked.
'He took my wallet!'
Jack began to run after him, but Gwen didn't think he stood much of a chance. From what she could see, Danny Wilkinson was a fast runner.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thanks to all the people who had to put up with me while writing this book. My family, who now understand the art of writing: do nothing until the last minute and then type frantically, screaming and begging for the world to end the day before the delivery date. Albert and Nick at BBC Books for keeping a roof over our heads during this process by sending cheques. Steve Tribe not only for giving me the gig in the first place but also for having a name so macho that one cannot help but feel reassured… I picture him as a literary Doug McClure beating primeval creatures to death while correcting my grammar. I hope I never meet him… it's so disheartening to have one's dreams shattered. And, of course, Morris and Pinborough; who'd have thought it, eh?
The rest of you? You're in the book, what more do you want?