"I have to go back to Glasgow tomorrow mum," I said softly, and they both looked up sharply, so I carried on."I have to be at work on Wednesday mornin..., so I'll get the evening flight from Heathrow." Why?" asked mum, but she knew why. I'd carved myself a little niche as what I liked to call a pub spy!It had started about two years ago when I went up, to Glasgow, it had meant to be a few days away with Danny, a mate from school. But on my first night there, I'd chatted to him and his parents in. It hit me in the gut with a feeling that I didn’t much like and I did my best to pretend I didn’t have a care in the world.It was the look he usually had when he was about to arrest somebody or chew out a cop for some bad stuff he did while on the job.My intuition told me to keep my mouth shut at least until I knew which way the wind was blowing. I felt reasonably certain it didn’t have anything to do with me because my Uncle was delighted to use me knowing I didn’t have to play by the rules. More

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