He was perched on a chair with a guitar, looked up like everyone else at her entrance, and didn’t seem to know her at all. The moustache was missing, apart from a stubble, but the silky brown hair, soulful dark eyes and sincere, graceful features were definitely Jock’s. Beside him slouched David, who instantly shot to his feet and Juno’s side. He wasn’t exactly impressed at being ignored in favour of his pal. But Juno stood dumbstruck. All she could do was stare and stare. What on Earth were the chances of her creating a face that already existed?

‘I guess I’d better introduce you,’ came David’s overly courteous voice from far away. He turned on his heel. Juno trailed him in another Troubadour daze.

‘Juno, meet Jackson. Jackson – Juno.’ David accompanied this with a couple huffy little bows.

Never before had Juno encountered obvious wariness in a guy. Jackson shook her hand politely but distantly, and Juno reciprocated with the arctic smile that had so far been reserved for Esther Pippet. David visibly calmed down, realizing that this was no case of love at first sight. ‘Sorry for staring,’ said Juno, still reeling. ‘It’s just you look so like my… cousin.’

‘Really,’ said Jackson wryly. It was clear that something about Juno didn’t check with him at all, and had instinctively made him decide to swallow nothing from her without liberal addition of salt. It would be another four years before he’d be assured by another Canadian but much more credible blonde that he really did once have a double in Calgary.