The plan became the Leith Waterfront Partnership. Two billion pounds, from the government, the council and private investors, to rebuild the docks over fifteen years. They made me project director when I was thirty.

They made me Chief Executive when I was thirty-two.

I'm thirty-three now. Two hundred people work for me. We've built six hundred homes, half of them for local families at prices they can afford. A park along the water. A school. The swimming pool opens next spring.

The old cranes are still there. We painted them bright blue and lit them up at night. You can see them from Arthur's Seat.

I still live in my little flat in Leith. I still take the bus to work. My mum still thinks I “work for the council.”

And I still make the tea for interview panels. I always have. It puts candidates at ease to see the Chief Executive carrying a tray of mugs.

I never looked James up after he left. Not once. A friend told me he'd done very well in London. Then, a year ago, another friend told me his firm had merged with an American one, and a lot of people had been let go.

I hadn't thought about him much since.

Until his name landed on my desk.