I remembered the way that Eilidh had looked at me in the police cell.
'Fair enough.'
'No, it’s not that. It’s just I promised to get home early. Listen I’ve some beers in the fridge, why don’t you come back with me?'
'I’m not sure that Eilidh would be so pleased to see me.'
John ran his hand through his hair again.
'Don’t be daft. If you hadn’t dropped by I would have got your number from her and called you.'
'Ach I don’t know, John.'
'Well I do. I need a favour and you owe me at least the one.'
John’s flat was just off Byres Road, a quick fifteen-minute walk from his office. He was waylaid twice by students and each time used me as an excuse to move on.
'Looks like you’re a celebrity, Dr John.'
He laughed.
'They always get friendlier towards the end of term — exam time.'
I said, 'I’m impressed.' Realising I meant it. 'What happened?' John looked at the ground as he walked.
'Nothing much. I discovered that I quite liked philosophy, screwed the nut, passed the exams, applied for a postgrad. And the rest is history.'
'You were free of a pernicious influence.'
'Don’t flatter yourself.'
He turned into a close.
'Here we are.'
Johnny’s flat looked big enough to accommodate six students. But any resemblance to the semi-slums we’d once shared stopped there. The hallway was painted a tasteful parchment shade that made the best of its high ceiling, the walls were hung with bright prints and the floor carpeted with pale sea-grass matting. He led me through shouting,
'That’s me back.'
A smartly dressed woman in her sixties stepped briskly into the hallway.
'Wheessht, I’ve just got her down.'
Johnny lowered his voice.
'Whoops, sorry.'
The woman smiled expectantly at me, perhaps imagining I was a scruffy visiting philosopher.
'This is William, an old friend from university.'
The woman’s face lost some of its welcome.
'I think maybe Eilidh mentioned you.'
I nodded.
'All good I hope.'
And the old woman gave me a sharp look that told me not to take her for a fool. She turned to John.
'Grace’s had her feed, so she should sleep for a while yet.'
'Thanks, Margaret.'
'A pleasure as always.' She took down her jacket from the coat stand. 'Sorry to be in such a rush: book group night.'
John handed her a smart leather bag that had been left by the door.
'I remember. Have a good time.'
'Oh, it’s always interesting, even when you don’t like the book.' Margaret finished fastening her coat and gave John a quick peck on the cheek. 'You take good care of my grandchild.' She knotted a small silk scarf round her throat, tucking it into the collar of her coat. 'I’ll see you tomorrow. And goodbye Mr…'
'Wilson.'
'Yes, I thought that was it. I’ll probably not see you again so I hope things go a bit better for you.'
I bent into a slight bow.
'Thank you.'
She gave me a nod that said she’d do for me if she saw me again and I smiled to show that I understood.
John closed the door behind her. 'Sorry ’bout that.'
'You can’t get the staff these days.'
He smiled, relieved I hadn’t taken offence.
