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seeing some of his friends there. Sure enough, at the back of the Gallery of Modern Art and on the flight of stairs between the pillars at the back of Borders bookshop, he found some of his friends. He loafed about with them for a while, draped back on the steps sharing a spliff with them. He longed to talk about his job but managed to contain himself. It was like a dream and it wasn’t the smoke that was causing it. It was real. The glamorous James Bond double, the gorgeous girlfriend. The exciting casino. The beautiful flat. The gun.
    He told himself that his friends wouldn’t believe him. That made it easier to keep quiet. For now at least. He doubted he could keep such an exciting adventure to himself for ever. After leaving Royal Exchange Square, he walked up to Sauchiehall Street Marks and Spencer’s and enjoyed filling the wire trolley from a list he’d already made out. His head was buzzing with ideas for all the meals he planned to cook. He blessed all the hours, indeed years, of his mother’s teaching, when he’d been confined to the house. He had never been sure whether she was coaching him to be able to feed himself and look after himself after she was gone, or encourage him to have some sort of talent for a job once he was fit enough to work. Well, it had done that all right. She had probably imagined him eventually baking scones and cakes in some little tearoom, but this, oh, this was so much better than anything he or his mother could ever have imagined. He was getting paid for it as well. Not a big wage, it had to be admitted, but so what! It was still a job in a million, and it suited him perfectly. It didn’t entail any heavy work or a boss standing over him harassing him all the time.
    Once back in the flat, he packed the food into the fridge and freezer, only leaving out what he’d need for the first evening meal. He had decided on broccoli soup, followed by smoked salmon and cream cheese en croute with a few buttered potatoes and parsley sauce. For dessert, he’d have rice pudding and stewed apples. Then coffee and mints to finish.
    Eventually, the table set and everything cooked and ready, and with time to spare before Paul and Renee arrived, he went into the hall, took the gun from the drawer and held it with both hands, arms stretched out in front of him. He pointed it around rapidly, to each side, then he swung right round and aimed down the opposite end of the hall. With each stance, he admired himself in the hall mirror. He thought he looked the part, really tough, ready for anything. No one would dare to enter that door.
    As it was, he got quite a shock when he heard a key in the door and realised it was Paul and Renee. Flustered and embarrassed, he flung the gun back into the drawer, slamming it closed as the door swung open. He struggled to look nonchalant.
    ‘Hey there, Johnny. Everything OK?’ Paul asked.
    ‘Yes, everything’s ready. I’ll just go and dish up.’
    ‘No.’ Renee put up a protesting hand. ‘You don’t need to stay and serve us. I can do that. Just show me what you’ve prepared. We like to relax on our own in the evening. And sometimes you’ll just have to leave everything ready because we’ll be working into the early hours.’
    ‘I don’t mind waiting.’
    ‘No, you just go home to bed.’
    Reluctantly, he led her into the kitchen and explained about each course.
    ‘It looks delicious,’ Renee said. ‘Now off you go.’
    Paul was still in the hall, but he’d taken off his smart camel coat. He put out a hand and shook Johnny’s.
    ‘It smells delicious, Johnny.’
    He opened the door and ushered Johnny out. Clattering triumphantly down the stairs and out on to the still busy Byres Road, Johnny didn’t hear Paul and Renee laughing.
    Later, as they drove to the casino in their BMW Series 3, they could hardly believe their luck. Johnny was what they had been looking for, exactly what they needed for the success of the plan they’d been nursing for some