Mort won't be back till later tonight, and he wanted everything to be ready to go."I was getting a lot of vibes, a lot of stuff coming through between...the lines. I had a good feeling about this, you might say."OK, in that case I'll row out in a dinghy. Be right there." Thanks."It was about a two-minute row over to the Miss New Jersey, but I still broke a sweat under the stinging July sun. When I came up the stern ladder she was sitting in the cockpit under an awning, an apologetic smile on her. "When's she due, Mick?" he asked, "you coping?" Uh, ah, another month. Maybe the 10th? Something like that." Boy or girl, y'know?" You sound like Terry," he grinned, "all clucky, cribs, baby clothes and advice about four hourly feeds." Hey! I don't want to know about feeds," he laughed, "she breastfeeding?" Fuck you!" Mick smiled."That song," Freddie said, suddenly serious, "not about you, is it?" How'd you guess?" 'Soft and languid like a rose?' Oh yeah, 'a rose' Mick? Since when did you. More

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