Chapter 1

I sat drinking coffee outside Starbucks.

The throng passed by, glancing idly at the bloke who seemed to have it all. Well, enough of it at any rate, to let him sit outside and drink coffee while decent people struggled into work. The breakfast meeting at another of the occupied tables finished and the three suits got up and merged with the throng, blending in and disappearing with surprising speed. One of the girls from behind the counter came out and cleared the table as soon as there was a lull in the morning trade. I glanced at her nametag, 'Jenny'. I knew a Jenny once. I carefully shied my thoughts away from that subject. She came to my table, her tray laden with empty mugs and cardboard sandwich boxes, the detritus of a hurried breakfast. I wondered why I hadn't seen her before as I came here fairly regularly.

"Are you done with these?"

Her voice was pleasant, but guarded. I smiled as reassuringly as I could.

"Yes. Is it okay if I sit here for a bit, I'm meeting a friend," I glanced at my watch, "she should be here soon. I'll come in for more coffee when she gets here."

The girl shrugged her shoulders as if to say it was none of her business and went about her job clearing my table. A desultory swipe with a damp cloth and it was if the last 20 minutes of my occupation had never been. I reflected that it was a pity that everything in life couldn't be tidied away so easily. Of course, it would make my job almost impossible if they could. Untidy loose ends were the lifeblood of a private investigations agency. It sounded romantic, but most of my work as a PI was handling insurance fraud. Magnum PI, I was not. Still, it had its moments.

"Thank you, Jenny." She started at my use of her first name, and then she realised that she had it pinned to her chest and relaxed. She nodded to me, but didn't catch my eye and disappeared back into the shop. I let myself wonder idly about her circumstances. She was obviously shy, so why put herself through what must be a hardship at the very least, just to earn a pittance - these places didn't pay that well, though the new, high profile chains were better in that respect than many places. Oh well, it wasn't my problem; I had enough of my own to worry about and not a few others' as well. Now was not the time to be trying to help another waif and stray.

My chain of thought was interrupted by another surge of commuters. I gazed thoughtfully at the queue that almost immediately formed and compared it with a similar situation the last time I was in Brussels. The pushing and shoving there had been a complete contrast to the semi-orderly arrangement that seemed to appear, as if by magic, whenever more than two Britons got together. I remembered reading something sometime ago, a journal of some sort that an English traveller had written, in which they had written about this wonderful continental habit of queuing. I wondered at the switch and when it had occurred. The feel of a hand on my shoulder interrupted my thoughts.

"Good morning, Andrew. Sorry I'm late, some poor bugger decided to end it all at Shepherd's Bush. They kicked us off at White City and I had to get a bus." She leant down and kissed me on the cheek.

"I'm sure you survived the ordeal. Why didn't you get a taxi?"

"I think the Beeb has them all on permanent hire! They were queued up outside the BBC building and none of them were free."

"At least it gave you a chance to see how the other half lives." It was a standing joke between us that she took the tube and taxis everywhere, whereas I preferred the bus or walking. I used to use the tube but a couple of years of being squashed, suffocated and treated just like so much cattle had convinced me that the buses were preferable. The main advantage of a bus was that you could see out if it got stuck in traffic and if the worst got to the worst, you could always get out and walk. I watched as she settled down in her seat.

"What do you want to drink?"

"The usual." I nodded and walked back into the shop to order our coffees and I bought a couple of almond croissants too. Once I was served I carried my bounty back outside and put it on the table.

"You angel, I'm starving. I didn't have time to get breakfast."

I laughed at that. She'd probably set her alarm early enough, but Kate was the mistress of the morning rationalisations that allowed her to lie in bed for 'just five more minutes'.

"Pig!"

"I'm not the one that lazed in bed for 25 minutes after her alarm went off, cutting the corners of her morning routine."

Kate stuck her tongue out at me and glared good-naturedly. Then she turned her attention to licking the crumbs and icing sugar off her fingers.

"Mmmm! I needed that. Thanks."

She eyed the second croissant, considering the short-term pleasure of eating it over the hours in the gym working it off. Short-term pleasure won out. I smiled indulgently as she scoffed the second pastry with relish.