Samantha sat back up again. ‘Don’t get me wrong, Claire’s OK, but if I have to sit through one more discourse on the philosophical nature of being, or her husband’s piles, I’m going to scream.’

‘Play nice with the nurses, they can put spiders in your mouth while you sleep, and then where will you be? ’ He ate his biscuit. Drank his lukewarm tea.

Samantha picked up the copy of Now, flipping through its glossy pages. ‘I’m serious about that cat, by the way.’

‘I think Rennie’s going to quit.’

‘Thought his wife was planning on turning into a baby factory. How’s that going to work if he’s got no job? ’

‘Steel drew a knob in his notebook. Keeps riding him about finding those shoplifting tramps.’

‘Hmmm? ’

‘You know what she’s like. Pick, nag, poke, sarcastic comment, arse-related threat. . .’

‘Yeah. . .’

‘It’s a bit of cheese, bacon, and vodka. That doesn’t need a detective sergeant, that needs a uniform PC who’s done something stupid and needs taught a lesson.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake.’

‘What? ’ Frown. He looked up – she had her face buried in the copy of Now. ‘Are you even listening? ’

She peered at him over the top of her magazine, then turned it around, showing off the centre spread: a big photo of Nichole Fyfe in jeans and an oversized white shirt, laughing, with His Majesty’s Theatre in the background: ‘COMING HOME TO ABERDEEN ~ MY SECRET SHAME AT TROUBLED TEENAGE YEARS’. Samantha gave the thing a shake. ‘If you hire a publicist to tell the whole sodding world about it, it’s not a bloody secret!’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was boring you.’

‘Anything to get their face in the gossip mags. “Oh look at me, I’m special and clever!” “Listen to some crap I made up to make myself sound interesting this week!” “Talk about me! I don’t exist otherwise!”’

He wiggled his toe through the hole in his sock. ‘Then why do you keep buying the things? ’

‘“Secret” my pale tattooed backside. She probably thinks we’ll read this rubbish and go, “Gosh, she’s such an inspirational figure! If she can go from a delinquent with a criminal record to a multimillionaire film star, maybe I can too!” When really she’s just boasting about how much better she is than the rest of us. I tell you, it’s—’

Logan reached out and snatched the magazine.

‘Hey!’

‘If you hate this stuff so much, you shouldn’t be reading it. It’s bad for your blood pressure.’ He dumped Now on the floor beside his seat. ‘Call it an intervention.’

Samantha thumped back into the pillows with her arms folded across her chest. ‘Spoilsport.’