She struck gold on her third attempt. As she unfolded a cutting about Scottish rock bands, a slim white envelope fell out. Across the front was typed “Confidential background,” and the flap was tucked in at the back. Thank God Alison hadn’t changed her habits! Without opening it, Lindsay stuffed the envelope in her pocket. When Martin returned with her soup, she was seemingly engrossed in a feature about comedian Billy Connolly.

“Mmm,” said Lindsay, drinking a mouthful of the rich chicken broth. “That was just what I needed. I didn’t realize how hungry I was till I walked past the canteen.”

“Found what you were looking for?” Martin asked as he settled down with his pile of papers again.

“Yes, thanks. You’re a star, Martin. Who’s on duty upstairs tonight?” Lindsay asked as she packed the cuttings back into their envelopes.

Martin told her, and at the name of Blair Craigie, Lindsay’s ears pricked up. Blair had been her shift partner for the six months before she’d moved to London, and the close working relationship that had developed between them had spilled over into their private lives. They had often spent their days off walking in the mountains round Loch Lomond and the Trossachs. “Great,” she said. Borrowing Martin’s phone, she rang the newsdesk upstairs and spoke to Blair. He was due for a meal break in half an hour, and they arranged to meet in a pub some distance away from the office to avoid being sucked into a convivial journalistic gathering that would prevent them talking properly to each other.

Lindsay headed back to her car, waving a farewell to Willie as she passed the security office. She drove up the Clydeside Expressway and turned off at Partick. She cruised up Byres Road and parked outside Tennants Bar. She pushed open the door and stopped in astonishment. They’d renovated Tennants! She could remember when the spit-and-sawdust pub had been the most basic of hostelries. They hadn’t even had a ladies’ toilet. When women were caught short, they had to go into the pub next door. It created a problem near closing time, for the neighboring pub shut half an hour before Tennants. But now, the bar was carpeted, the furnishings were new, and she could see a sign saying “Ladies’ Toilet.” Lindsay walked up to the bar and bought a pint of lager.

She didn’t have long to wait. Before she was halfway down her glass, Blair arrived. He waved and headed straight for the bar, arriving minutes later at her table clutching two pints. He put the glasses down and swept her into his arms in a bear hug. “When did you get back?” he demanded.

Breathlessly, Lindsay said, “A few days ago. How’s tricks?”

“You see it all,” he said expansively, running a hand over his sandy curls.