Dead Won't Sleep (33 page)

Rosie sank back into the pillow. If it hadn’t been for the pain in her cheek she would think she was dreaming. Two nurses came in, smiling.

‘Hallo, Rosie,’ one of them said. ‘Back in the land of the living. You have a visitor.’

She saw McGuire appearing behind them. When he saw her, his expression changed.

‘Gilmour, for Christ’s sake! Look at the state of you.’ He came towards her. ‘Jesus. I wouldn’t like to see the other guy.’

Rosie tried to smile. The other guy. If only he knew. He sat down and she told him what had happened. He cursed himself for allowing her to go back to the flat by herself after the story appeared. He looked genuinely upset.

Rosie suddenly thought of TJ.

‘What time is it?’

‘Eight-thirty,’ McGuire said, looking at his watch. ‘Not going somewhere, are you?’

Rosie turned her head away. Tears came to her eyes. She asked for her mobile and rang TJ’s number. It rang and rang. She looked at her missed calls. One was from TJ at seven this morning. She tried his number again. It rang and rang, but there was nobody to answer it.

It lay in the rubbish bin where TJ had dropped it, as he made his way to the departure gate at Glasgow Airport.

A WORD of gratitude to a whole bunch of people I’m so fortunate to have around me. Firstly, my sister Sadie, who listens to all my moans and always finds a way forward, and my family – including all my fantastic cousins – for their love and support; my friend Carole Malone who introduced me to the redoubtable Ali Gunn – thank you, Ali, for loving the book and having such a big heart; my closest friends who laugh with me in the good times and cry with me in the bad – especially Mags McGowan and Betty Gillick, whose names I shamelessly hijacked for one of my characters; my friend Franco Rey, for his encouragement; my brilliant editor Jane Wood, who keeps me on my toes, and the top team at Quercus.

Thanks, also, to Dr Marjorie Black, Consultant Forensic Pathologist at Glasgow University for her expert advice.
And finally, my mum, who was my heart, who didn’t live to see this, but who will be forever on my shoulder, inspiring me.