“Magazine, yes.” Another machine seemed to have been added to the general cacophony of background noise, this one being situated not very far from Katie Trenchard’s mouthpiece.

“And there were a couple of photographs too.”

“So you’ll want to come up to see me.”

“What?” Dan asked, taken aback by the woman’s directness.

“When do you want to come up, then?”

Dan felt strangely bemused. My word, he thought, it’s not a wonder this woman has made a success of her company if she’s able to catch people off guard like this. “Hold on, I wasn’t thinking exactly . . .”

“What?”

Dan took a deep breath to steady himself. “I just wanted to ask a few questions.”

“That’s fine. I’m quite happy to do that. How about sometime this week then?”

Dan now began to laugh to himself. Katie Trenchard was obviously a born seller. All he had been meaning to do was to ring up for a catalogue, and here he was, on a Sunday night, being invited up to the wilds of Scotland as a prospective buyer of her company. He, Dan Porter, who had never been north of Manchester in his life!

“Erm,” he muttered, trying to think of some way of stalling her for a moment. “Right; just let me have a look in my diary.” He clamped his hand over the receiver. What the hell was he doing? Just say “Thanks, but no thanks” and end the call. He stared down at the notes he had made in Nina’s exercise book. Come on, you fool, he thought to himself, there is an opportunity here. You know that. If you just say you’re not going to go, you’ll regret it in the long run. And anyway, why the hell suddenly be so cautious? You were never that way in the City.

Dan made a quick surmise of his present domestic situation. Jackie was in Paris, back on Tuesday; the kids were at school for the week; Battersea Gran would probably be able to come round and look after them and the dogs. So why should he not just go? It would probably do him a load of good to get away from the house and from London for a couple of days. What’s more, even if nothing came of it, it would at least give Jackie the impression that he was actively pursuing some form of gainful employment.

He took his hand away from the receiver and held it to his ear. The background noise seemed to have increased in volume. “When could I come up?” he asked.

“What? Listen, I’m sorry. I’m going to go outside the building.” Dan heard a door slam and immediately the noise became a distant hum. “That’s better. Now, what did you ask me?”

“When would it be suitable for me to come up?”