The incessant cry of the phone woke Laura. She fought back the covers and answered it.

"Yes? Hello? What?"

"Hi, Laura. It's Ted."

"Jesus, Ted. What are you playing at? Do you know what time it is?"

"Nine-thirty, darling."

"Christ!" Laura sat upright amongst the wreckage of her sheets, then she remembered. "Wait, it's Saturday, Ted. What are you doing waking me up on a Saturday morning?" she said, sinking back into the pillows.

"Oh dear. Bad night?"

"No, good night; bad morning." Her head wasn't right. The Listening last night had seemed so natural, surrounded by other Listeners, that she had to concentrate to speak out loud now. At least the wine hadn't given her a migraine. "The last thing I want to deal with this morning is your inept flirting and dodgy deals. Speak to me on Monday, if you've got a job on the level."

"I wish I could, my sweetheart, but my client is in somewhat of a rush. Can I buy you breakfast?"

"What's the job?"

"I'd rather not talk about it on the phone. I'll spring for a strawberry Danish too."

"Raspberry," said Laura automatically. "Why is nothing ever straight forward with you, Ted? And why does it always involve sitting at a cafe where you can pretend I'm your date? Have you really got a legitimate job for me?"

"Quite possibly. Could be a nice earner too. Look, meet me and we'll discuss it. If it smells bad, simply walk. What harm could it do?"

"This is going to cost you more than breakfast, Ted. Buy me lunch and I'll consider it."

"You're a cruel and venal woman, Laura Robinson. Okay, lunch, but I'm not springing for a bottle of over-priced Chianti."

Laura cursed silently. She had assumed Ted would balk at buying lunch. Maybe there really was a decent contract to be had.

"Okay, Ted, but if you're just messing me about I shall visit all shades of trouble on your sorry arse."

"Fair enough. I'll ping you with an address."

Laura closed the connection and pulled the covers over her head. She lay there, eyes closed, willing herself to drift back to sleep, but it was not going to happen. Besides, her bladder called for attention. Cursing Ted, Abby and herself for the way she felt, she dragged herself into the bathroom.



Showered and human again, Laura opened her notepad. True to his word, Ted had sent her an address for lunch. It was in a tourist area known for its bars and clubs. She suspected this was his idea of a joke, thinking her woolly demeanour this morning had been due to a hangover. It was true the wine from the night before hadn't left her completely symptomless, but she would have the last laugh. There had better be steak on the menu.

She pottered around the apartment, but it wasn't really big enough for any mess to develop. Nothing important or interesting arrived in her inbox. Finally she gave up on having any sort of weekend experience and phoned a cab.



It was a Tex-Mex restaurant, full of East-European waiters, close to the river. Laura arrived fifteen minutes before the time Ted had arranged. Ted wasn't there yet. Did that make her seem desperate, like the ugly duckling on her first ever date? The restaurant was half empty, the diners mainly families out for the day on a budget treat. She chose a table in a relatively secluded corner. The waiter looked as though he had never heard of such an exotic drink when she ordered an Earl Grey, so she settled for a diet Coke.

After five minutes of boredom, she called Ted.

"Okay, you've dragged me out my pit and I'm here at a pitiful excuse of a restaurant because you're too cheap to buy me a decent meal. You'd better not be late, Ted Parkinson, because I don't think you could afford that."

"Ah, my favourite girl in the whole world, after my wife, of course. So glad you've left your hangover behind and embraced the joys of a new day. I'm just walking up to the place now. Whereabouts are you?"

"Inside, far corner, hoping no one I know recognises me. It would be bad enough if they saw us eating together, I'd hate them to think that I'd choose such a cheap restaurant."

"Oh, that's ridiculous, my sweetheart. And it's such a beautiful day too. Come on outside, we'll eat at one of the pavement tables."

"What's wrong with eating inside like normal people?"

"I want the world to see us together, sweetheart. Besides, this is my treat, so I get to choose the table."

"Jesus, you are hard work," said Laura. "No, fine, we'll eat outside in all the fumes and dust where passersby can gawk at us."

"That's my girl."

Laura stepped out into the spring sunshine. Ted was standing in the entrance to the roped-off area.

"Darling," he said, smiling. "Seeing you two days running. What a rare pleasure."

"For you, maybe. What's this all about?"

"Let's order," Ted said in way of reply.

The waiter showed them to a table. Ted barely glanced at the menu.

"You know what I fancy? A chip butty. The missus has me on some health kick at the moment. She puts on a kilo, and I have to diet. Can you see the sense in that? I'll have a chip butty, my friend," he told the waiter.

"A chip butty?" asked the waiter in a thick accent, looking at the menu with a puzzled frown.

"Yes, a chip sandwich."

"You want a sandwich with a side order of chips?"

"No," said Ted, with exaggerated patience. "I want a sandwich with chips in it."

"I'm sorry, only what's on the menu."

Okay," said Ted, making a show of looking at the menu. "I'll have a Montezuma burger with fries, all right? And a Bud lite."

"And I'll have a rump steak, rare, with chocolate sauce, and a jacket potato, sour cream and salad," said Laura.

Ted looked aghast. "Chocolate sauce? With steak? Is there something you want to tell me? Am I the father?"

"It's a South American dish. Why did you take me to a Tex-Mex restaurant if you didn't want to eat Tex-Mex?"

Ted watched the waiter disappear inside.

"I wouldn't have, if I had known it would be so difficult to get a chip butty. Right, shall we chat, or do you want another buffalo sacrificed?"

"I'm listening," said Laura.

"Okay, first the confidentiality thing. What we're going to discuss is strictly between us."

"I am a Listener, Ted. I keep secrets every day."

"Sure, I realise that, but this one is potentially a biggie."

"My lips are sealed."

"Okay, so here it is. I had a visit from a guy. He made all sorts of claims about his life being in danger. He may be a nutter, he may be a liar, or he may be straight up, I don't know. I tried to check him out, but I couldn't find anything one way or the other."

Laura shrugged. "I can tell you if he's a liar, but if he believes what he's saying, you'll need a doctor to tell if he's delusional."

"No, that's fine. We'll set up a session, and you can tell me if he believes all the bullshit he's told me." Ted held up his hand to forestall her. "Yes, I'll get him to sign a consent, so you don't have to break any of your precious Guild rules. But there's more to it than that. How do you get on with the police?"

"Oh, they're very friendly every time they arrest me; give me a cup of tea and everything."

"Yes, very funny. I mean, do you do any work for them? Do you know any of their debentured Listeners? Any of your Guild friends contract for them?"

"Where's this leading, Ted?"

"Just humour me for a moment, pet."

Laura sat back and stared at Ted until he fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Okay, Ted, let me explain something about us. You know when I bit your head off yesterday about non-consensual Listening?"

"I told you, I'll get him to sign."

She shook her head. "No, that's not what I mean. I told you I'd lose my licence, yes? Well, it's much more than that. Listening, well, it's not an exact science. I was in training for nearly ten years. Putting yourself into someone else's mind, it's difficult. Not just from a technique point of view; it's hard on the Listener. You don't just read the words off a screen. You get to feel their emotions, their sensations, their soul. Yes, you can smile, but you have no idea. It's an act of incredible intimacy, more so than even sex. Putting yourself there against someone's will, well, it's sick. It would be like hiding in the wardrobe and watching someone else have sex."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," said Ted, grinning. "I do that for a living. I'm a private detective, remember?"

"Oh, ha ha. I'm being serious. Okay, it would be like watching your parents have sex. It would be a violation of their dignity. Most Guild Listeners wouldn't be able to do it if they were allowed to."

"I'm not asking you to do that, Laura. And I'm sorry I asked you to yesterday."

"Yes, well, that's how we feel, and the Guild training reinforces that. At least, that's how most of us feel."

"Most of you?"

"You won't get any Guild Listeners on retainers to the police, and any contracts would be under strict Guild conditions, certifying witness statements and the like."

"I feel a 'but' coming," said Ted, as the waiter arrived with Ted's beer. Laura remained silent until the waiter had left.

"But," said Laura, "Not all Listeners have been trained by the Guild, and Guild training doesn't take with everyone. The police have certain requirements that are prohibited by Guild rules."

"Non-consensual Listening?"

"Oh, it's perfectly legal. I can even see the sense in it. You've got some terrorist planning a bomb, you can't wait for his consent and then play twenty questions to find out where it's at. But if you can do it once, you can do it again and again, until you're Listening on level four to jay walkers to see what else they might have done. It's a bad habit to get into, and you won't find any Guild members getting pally with police Listeners. Now, you want to tell me why you asked?"

"My client has a bad history with both the Guild and the police." Ted help up his hands to placate Laura. "No, no. Don't get up tight. Hear me out. Let me tell you what he said, then make up your mind. Read him to confirm it afterwards if you want. Besides, here's our order. It would be a crying shame to waste all that food."

The waiter laid the plates on the table. Ted stopped him leaving with an outstretched hand.

"Half a mo. Just take this, will you?"

He lifted the top bun, dropped the burger onto his paper serviette and gave it back to the waiter. He scattered a thick layer of chips in its place and replaced the top half of the bun. He picked up the impromptu sandwich in both hands and winked at the waiter.

"Can't beat a good chip butty."