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she led the way downstairs. “Do you think he knows anything about ley depressions?”
    Kate laughed. “You sound like a pop psychiatrist.”
    “Ho ho.”
    They had reached the kitchen by then. Jacky flung the door open— a “Hello, Finn,” on her lips— but though it was a hob standing there, it wasn’t their usual visitor. Instead it was a younger cousin of Finn’s— one of the Laird’s foresters.
    “Dunrobin Mull, if you please, Missus Jack,” the hob said. “At your service.”
    He was nervously turning his red cap in his hand and the two women knew immediately that whatever his reason for coming was, it wasn’t to bring good news.
    “You’d better come in,” Jacky said.
     

Four
     
    The dance ended at eleven— in accordance with city noise ordinances. Johnny pitched in, helping the band and their friends dismantle the stage and load all the equipment into the van and pickup truck that it had come in. By a quarter past twelve, he and Jemi were saying their farewells and started to walk slowly down Chesley towards Bank Street.
    “Wow,” Jemi said. “I’m still buzzing.”
    Johnny nodded. He felt that way himself when a gig went well— all wound up with excess energy.
    “What happens now?” he asked.
    “Let’s walk a bit and take it as it comes— okay?”
    “Sure.”
    Jemi was wearing a silver-buttoned piper’s jacket over her dress now, carrying her sax in its case. She refused his offer to carry it for her. Looking at her, Johnny had to shake his head. She certainly knew how to catch the eye. Her whole look— from pink hair to what she was wearing— made him smile, though not in any superior sense. He found himself liking the look, liking her. He’d never known anyone quite the same before.
    “Are you hungry?” she asked as they reached Bank Street.
    “Some.”
    She nodded to a Chinese restaurant on their left. “Want to grab a few egg rolls?”
    “Sure.”
    Fifteen minutes later they were sitting inside the South Garden, munching egg rolls that they washed down with Chinese tea. Jemi ate with great gusto, dipping her egg roll first in the little pool of soya sauce on her plate, then in the plum sauce, before each bite. Johnny followed her example at a slower pace. At last he had to ask her as she finished her sixth egg roll.
    “How do you stay so small—”
    “When I eat so much?” she finished for him. She shook a finger in his face. “That’s not very polite, Johnny Faw.”
    “I guess not,” he said with a smile.
    She grinned back. “I’ve just got a quick metabolism— I burn it all off before it has a chance to settle.”
    They had the restaurant to themselves. Chinese pop songs, sung by a woman with an incredibly high-pitched voice, issued softly from the ceiling speakers in each corner of the room.
    “So where do we start?” Jemi asked as she finished her seventh and final egg roll.
    She replenished both their teacups from the pot on the center of the table.
    The enjoyment in Johnny’s eyes clouded as he remembered why he’d looked her up in the first place. He’d been having such a good time, listening to her band, and she was so full of lighthearted energy, that he’d just let the reason fade away.
    “Maybe you should tell me just what happened last night,” Jemi said softly, seeing the look in his eyes.
    She put the teapot down and patted his hand, before picking up her cup and taking a sip.
    So Johnny went through the story again. Jemi was a good listener and didn’t interrupt. She waited until he was done to ask a few questions.
    “That was Jenna,” she said when Johnny again described the woman he’d met.
    “So what’s going on?” Johnny asked.
    “I knew Old Tom— he used to bring me sweets, but that was a long time ago.” There was a far-off look in her eyes. “I’ve always had a sweet tooth.”
    “But,” Johnny began, then he paused, deciding on a different tack. “Are you twins— you and Jenna?”
    “Oh, no. She’s much older than I