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‘Yes,’ said Julia. ‘You know those shops in Queensferry Street? He has quite a few there. And George Street too. He has some there.’

‘Interesting,’ said Bruce.

‘Not to me,’ Julia said. ‘I find all that talk of square metres and rents and stuff like that really boring.’ She paused. ‘Anyway, I’m really glad that you and Daddy are going to get on so well. And now I’m going to go and start to get things ready.’

She left Bruce and went into the kitchen. He stood up and walked to the window of the flat, looking down onto Howe Street. He was very comfortable here, and Julia was not all that bad; if she went on, one could simply turn off and let it all wash over. And she was certainly attractive, in her dim, rather vacuous sort of way. In fact, she was a real head-turner, now that one came to think of it, and there would be no shame involved in walking into a wine bar with her. A wine bar . . .

There were wine bars in George Street, and she had said that her father had commercial property there. It would be interesting if it turned out that he owned a wine bar. Very interesting.

80. Julia’s Father Comes Straight to the Point

Julia ushered her father into the flat. ‘Every time I come here,’ said Graeme Donald, ‘I find myself thinking – they really understood the need for space, those Georgians. I was in one of those new flats the other day – you know those ones down the road there. Tiny. And quite a price, too. Ridiculously expensive.’

He was a tall, well-built man with an air of easy self-assurance about him. He kissed his daughter on the cheek, almost absentmindedly, and cast a glance towards the open door of the drawing room. ‘In there?’ he whispered. ‘This young man of yours?’

Julia nodded. ‘Yes. And you will do what we discussed? Is that all right, Daddy?’

He looked at her. ‘Is that what you want? Are you sure he’s the one? Because there’ll be plenty of time to be sorry if . . .’

‘Believe me, Daddy. We just click. He’s lovely.’

He closed his eyes briefly. ‘Anything that makes my girl happy. Anything.’

Julia took him gently by the arm. ‘Just make sure that he won’t say no,’ she said, her voice still low.

‘Well, as long as he’s reasonably well disposed, then I think I can make things attractive enough for him.’

‘Good.’

They entered the drawing room, where Bruce was sitting by the window. As they entered, he rose and crossed the floor to shake hands with Graeme.

‘So you’re Bruce.’ Graeme took Bruce’s hand and shook it warmly.

‘Sir.’

‘Please call me Graeme.’

Julia moved to Bruce’s side and linked her arm in his. ‘You two will have lots to talk about,’ she said, gazing at Bruce. ‘Daddy, Bruce used to be a surveyor.’

‘Macaulay Holmes et cetera,’ said Bruce.

Graeme nodded. ‘Good firm. I’ve had dealings with them. Nice chaps, the Todds.’

‘Yes,’ said Bruce, less than enthusiastically.

‘Why did you leave?’ asked Graeme.

Bruce’s answer came readily. ‘Challenge,’ he said. ‘I needed to get my teeth into something new.’

Graeme nodded appreciatively. ‘Always a good idea.’

There was silence for a moment. Then Bruce spoke. ‘You’re in commercial property yourself, Julia tells me.’

‘Yes,’ said Graeme. ‘Mostly here in Edinburgh. Shops. I prefer them to offices, you know. I felt that you’re more at the mercy of the economy if you have office space on your hands. But if you have retail property in a good area, then there’s always somebody prepared to take on a lease. Or that’s what I’ve found. The triumph of hope over commercial experience.’

Bruce laughed. ‘George Street?’ he asked. ‘Julia said something about George Street.’

Graeme nodded. ‘I have a wine bar there,’ he said. ‘You may know it.’

Bruce did know it. It was one of the more fashionable wine bars. He and Julia had been there together and she had said something about her father, but he had paid no attention.

‘A great bar,’ said Bruce. ‘It must do very well.’

‘It could do better,’ said Graeme. ‘I need to get somebody to take it in hand. Somebody who . . .’ He trailed off. He was watching Bruce, and he saw the slight movement of the brows. I can see