Necessary as Blood

own staircase.
    Gemma checked her address again — yes, Louise Phillips‘s flat was one of the first-floor pair at the end of the building, the one with the jungle of plants and flowers filling the balcony.
    The one with the German shepherd dogs. There was an iron gate at the top of the stairs, and the two big dogs sat just inside it, watching her with what seemed a friendly interest.
    A young man came out of the left-hand flat. He had spiky, bleached-blond hair, stud earrings and wore a black T-shirt emblazoned with the enigmatic slogan Cot Slide? Giving the dogs a casual pat as he went by, he clanged out of the gate and clattered down the stairs. As he passed Gemma he said, "ello, love‘ and gave her a cheeky grin.
    Had he come from Louise Phillips‘s flat, wondered Gemma? But no, according to the number, Phillips‘s flat was the right-hand one. At least the dogs seemed friendly enough.
    But when Gemma started up the stairs, both dogs stood, and the larger one gave a sharp bark. Gemma stopped, unsure what to do. The doors to both flats stood open, and she was about to call out when a man wearing shorts and a Hawaiian shirt came out of the left-hand flat. He had brown hair drawn back in a ponytail, impressively muscled legs, a pleasant face, and he carried a large old-fashioned watering can.
    ‘You here to see Lou?‘ he called down to her. ‘Don‘t mind the dogs. They‘re a good combination of doorbell and burglar deterrent, but they won‘t hurt you.‘
    The dogs‘ tails had started to wag at the sound of the man‘s voice, and they looked pleased with themselves, as if they knew they were being talked about. Gemma kept climbing, still with a bit of trepidation, but as she neared the top the man called the dogs to him. ‘Jagger, Ginger. Sit,‘ he commanded. The dogs sat, but their tails were wagging furiously. Their black and reddish-tan coats were glossy, and the expressions on their alert, intelligent faces seemed almost human.
    ‘Jagger and Ginger?‘ said Gemma, stopping at the gate.
    ‘As in Mick Jagger and Ginger Baker. My partner manages rock bands. The names are his little homage to the greats — although I doubt any of his current crop are likely to fill their boots. Except maybe Andy, there,‘ he added, nodding in the direction in which the young man had disappeared. ‘I‘m Michael, by the way.‘ He came forward and opened the gate.
    Gemma stepped through, and the dogs seemed to consider the gate shutting behind her as their release signal. She stood still as they came charging towards her, then let them sniff her thoroughly with their long, damp noses. She was glad she was wearing trousers and not a skirt.
    ‘Here, I‘ll call them off—‘ began Michael, but Gemma stopped him.
    ‘No. They‘re lovely. They‘re just getting acquainted with my dogs.‘
    ‘Ah, no wonder they like you. I take it you‘re not here for Tàm?‘ When Gemma shook her head, he glanced into the open door of the right-hand flat, calling out, ‘Lou, you‘ve got a visitor.‘
    ‘I‘m coming, I‘m coming,‘ said the same slightly irritable female voice Gemma had heard over the phone.
    A moment later, a woman appeared in the doorway. ‘Sorry, sorry,‘ she said. ‘Had to get out of the business suit and the bloody tights before I died. It should be against the law to wear things like that in this weather. You‘re Gemma?‘
    The shorts and halter top that Lou Phillips had changed into should have shown off her colouring, but Gemma thought her dark skin had a greyish tinge to it, and her bared shoulders were unflatteringly bony. Her dark hair was scraped up into a ponytail that lacked the élan of the one worn by her neighbour Michael.
    ‘I‘ve got the keys,‘ Phillips went on, without waiting for an answer. ‘If you‘ll just make me a list of the items you take and return it with the—‘
    ‘Actually,‘ Gemma broke in, ‘I was hoping we could have a chat.‘
    Louise Phillips stared at her for a moment, then sighed. ‘All right. I suppose we can talk. But only if you like gin and tonic. And we‘ll have to sit on the balcony. I can‘t smoke in the flat, or Michael and Tam won‘t let the dogs come in. Don‘t want them exposed to second-hand smoke.‘ She rolled her eyes at this, but Gemma saw that there were two chairs on her side of the balcony, and an ashtray between them. And they make me wash out the ashtray every day,‘ Louise grumbled as she led Gemma into the flat. Sotto voce, she