My flesh crawled. I had to get away from him. Stepping forward into the crowd I held my hands up; a fake smile forced my lips apart. ‘Enough, enough,’ I said.

‘You’re the best, Brodie, the best!’ shouted Wee Elvis. He turned to the toothless woman standing next to him, saying proudly, ‘She’s ma lawyer too.’

‘Thank you,’ I shouted. ‘But I think it’s time we fed your bellies. The grumbling noise is making me think the South Bridge is about to collapse.’ I scurried back behind the open roll shutters and took up my ladle. The time passed quickly as I doled out the soup and stale rolls, hatred for Marshall brewing all the time. Silence fell as, one by one, the tramps sat down to enjoy their lunch. Marshall took a seat by Wee Elvis and Lucky. They were locked deep in conversation, and I had a horrible feeling Marshall had chosen to give attention to the man because I was fond of him. Marshall glanced up at me out of the corners of his eyes and a shiver ran through the nerves in my spine. I tilted the pot on its side to scrape the last bowlful of soup out. It was mainly barley and water, and the waiting youngster with a navy baseball cap on looked at me reproachfully I took a fiver out of my pocket and slipped it under his soup bowl.

‘Buy yourself a Big Mac later,’ I whispered. Ina didn’t believe in giving them money. It was too easy to spend it on drugs, and the price of cocaine on the streets of Edinburgh had fallen so low that a fiver would get him what he wanted. I shooed him away before she noticed. I turned my back on the diners. The noise of their chomping, slurping and chatting infiltrated the kitchen. Ina was a bit deaf so I raised my voice.

‘Ina,’ I said. ‘I need your help. Do you know a guy named Kenny Cameron?’ Ina wiped her thin, wrinkled hands on the white apron and looked up at me. ‘Wee guy,’ she said. ‘Ugly, skinny, under nine stone, about thirty-seven, thinning hair, moustache?’ I was nodding, my heart felt warm as Ina described him exactly. ‘Where is he?’ I asked. ‘He’s not here today, I was looking for him.’

‘Last time I saw him was a couple of days ago,’ she said. ‘I told the other guy who was asking about him.’

‘What other guy?’ I said.

‘Big fella, in a hurry, wanting to know everything like yesterday was too late,’ Ina nodded. I didn’t wait to hear the rest. Grabbing my jacket from the hook by the door, I ran.

‘What about the dishes?’ Ina shouted after me.

I didn’t have time for niceties. If big Billy Boyle was asking after Kenny Cameron, then the poor wee man was toast.

Without stopping to say goodbye, I ran for the front door.