Chapter Two
Sophia glared at her brother over the desk. Not that Gio noticed. He was busy with his head under the bonnet of a Kia, up to his elbows in oil.
It had all started last night.
Sophia had been on the dating apps for as long as she was old enough to dabble. Not that she held out great hopes. But every now and again someone came along and she was surprised. And Katie had been the biggest surprise of all.
Not only had she lived no more than fifteen minutes away, which was a miracle because honestly, Whitebridge was so small that Sophia had set all the app filters to a hundred-mile radius, but she was nice. And funny. And she wasn’t looking for a threesome with her boyfriend, which was what most nice, funny women seemed to be looking for.
So when Katie had finally suggested a date, Sophie, who’d been far too nervous to suggest one herself, had happily agreed. All of which had led to Sophie and Katie sharing a small, rickety table at the pub on the high street last night.
Things had been going quite well. Sophie had managed not to spill anything down her front, nor to say anything ridiculously stupid. To be fair, the chemistry wasn’t quite as hot as she’d imagined from the messages they’d shared, but still, there was a prickling of something in the air.
Until Katie had started staring off over Sophie’s shoulder when Sophie was talking. Sophie, who’d been talking about her job as the accountant at the family garage and who was well aware that accounting wasn’t particularly scintillating, took the hint.
“And what about you?” she’d asked. “What is it exactly that you do?”
“I’m a horse riding instructor,” Katie had said, turning her attention back to Sophie.
Sophie had had a mental image of Katie with her thighs clamped around something that certainly wasn’t a horse, and had swallowed. “That sounds lovely.”
“Mmm,” said Katie, but she’d gone back to staring over Sophie’s shoulder.
Sophie had cleared her throat and tried again. “Do you own your own horse?”
“Mmm,” Katie had said again.
Sophie bit her lip. Something had changed and she wasn’t entirely sure what it was.
The messages that they’d shared had been polite, then flirty, then downright spicy. And to be completely honest, Sophie had held out certain… hopes. Hopes that maybe after a solid five-year dry-spell she might be seeing some action. Not that she expected anything, or would force anything, but all omens had seemed to be pointing in the right direction.
Enough so that she’d had time to think about where they could get some privacy. Certainly not Sophie’s place, not when she still slept in her childhood bedroom. But Katie had a car and a flat of her own, so maybe…
“I’m sorry,” Katie had said, interrupting Sophie’s thoughts.
“Sorry?” Sophie had said, dragging herself back into the moment.
“Yeah, sorry,” Katie had said. “But do you know that guy?”
Sophie had turned around and anger had flooded every cell of her body. Gio had been sitting there, two tables away, giving Katie a death stare and clearly enjoying his role as impromptu chaperon .
For a second she’d debated lying, but there didn’t seem to be much point. “It’s my brother.”
“Right,” Katie had said, looking slightly relieved but not exactly comfortable.
And when, ten minutes later, Katie had finished up her drink and said that she had to be making tracks, Sophie had known deep down what was happening. But she’d shot her shot anyway.
“So, how about dinner? Maybe at the weekend?”
Katie had smiled a little sadly and had studiously kept her eyes away from Gio, who was a hulking, brooding shadow in the corner, and had said that it wasn’t Sophie, it was definitely her, and she wasn’t as in the market for something serious as she might have thought. That it had been a lovely drink and a real eye-opener and she’d definitely message Sophie when she was feeling better about dating and…
And then she was gone.
And now Sophie was glaring at Gio over her desk and wondering just when would be an appropriate time to slam the Kia hood down on his neck.
She’d been so angry last night that she’d stomped straight out of the pub and gone home without a word to Gio. Gio, on the other hand, had been whistling over breakfast while Sophie had been hatching a plot to poison his eggs.
“Soph, go and grab us a sandwich.”
She looked over to her father’s legs, sticking out from under a Ford. “Make Gio go.”
Her father slid out and narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t start with that attitude. We’re a family. Gio’s working on that Kia. You can go and pick up lunch. Get sandwiches from the pub.”
“Make mine ham and cheese,” Gio said without looking at her.
“I thought you were supposed to be clearing out the storage shed out back,” she said, fully aware of the fact that Gio was dreading the job and that her father had been on at him to do it for months now.
“It’s already done,” her father said. “Now, some sandwiches.”
She thought about questioning that. It wasn’t fair that Gio hadn’t done what he was supposed to and her father had just gone ahead and done it. But that was the way of things. Gio got away with far more than she ever did. She sighed. Maybe she was better off getting some fresh air, she thought, as she pulled on her jacket and made her way out onto the street.
It was because she was a girl. A woman now, not that her father and brother had noticed. Still, with her mum so long gone, she supposed that neither of them had much experience living with a woman. Sophie walked miserably to the pub. Not that she was about to get much more experience living with a woman with her brother watching over her shoulder all the time.
“What can I get you?” asked Jules the barmaid cheerfully when Sophie walked into the pub.
“An axe to dismember my brother?” suggested Sophie.
Jules laughed. “Yeah, can’t say I didn’t notice. Was that her last night? The one you’ve been talking to online?”
“Katie,” Sophie said. “And yes. Not that we’ll be talking again. She’s blocked me now, thanks to that great idiot.”
“He’s just looking after you,” said Jules, wiping her hands on a bar towel. “He’s protective. Your dad too. But you should hear what they’re like when you’re not around, dead proud of you, they are. Your dad tells anyone that’ll listen that you went to college. He thinks the world of you.”
Sophie smiled. “Does he really?”
“Oh, they both adore you, Soph, you know that.”
“I know.” She sighed and climbed up onto a bar stool. “I know they do. It’s just… How can I have a life with the two of them looking over my shoulder all the time?”
“Maybe you need to set some boundaries,” Jules suggested. “Talk to the two of them. You’re an adult, Soph, not a little kid.” She started stacking pint glasses. “It’s that or move out.”
Sophie thought about that for a second, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. They need me. You should see the state of the place if I’m not around to take care of the house. When I was at college, they survived on takeout and cans of beer. ”
“You’re not their housekeeper.”
“I know, I know.” She sighed again. She wasn’t. But she also knew that her dad needed looking after. He’d not so much as looked at another woman since his wife had died, and that was so long ago that Sophie didn’t even have a clear memory of her mother’s face.
“Don’t look so glum,” Jules said. “Something’ll show up. It always does. You’ll be in here moaning about having no girlfriend one day, and talking about getting married the next. That’s the way it always happens. When you least expect it.”
Given that Sophie was almost out of hope and expecting nothing, she assumed a host of eligible, attractive lesbians would be walking into the pub at any moment. “It’s a small town,” she said instead.
“And you’re being pessimistic, which is drastically unlike you. Pick yourself up, cheer up, and tell me what you want for lunch.”
“Fine, an egg salad sandwich for dad, and two ham and cheeses for me and Gio.” Jules was right, she wasn’t going to get anywhere with a face like a wet weekend.
“There’s only one ham and cheese left,” Jules said. She grinned at Sophie, then unwrapped the sandwich and popped it onto a plate. “Go on, petty revenge is the best kind. Eat it here and I’ll get another egg salad for Gio.”
Sophie munched on her sandwich as Jules put the others into a bag. “Any news?”
“There’s always news,” said Jules. “Old Dave is having his license taken away for driving into that hedge. Oh, and speaking of McKeefe, he’s had his car stolen. That’s the third around these parts this month. You should tell your dad to make sure the ones he leaves outside are alarmed.”
“Will do,” Sophie said, swallowing a mouthful of sandwich. “Billy alright?” Billy was Jules’s wife, a talented musician as well as a music teacher at the local school.
Jules rolled her eyes. “She’s got a new project.”
“Oh yeah?” asked Sophie, brightening up. She liked Billy and the woman had interesting ideas, if not always successful ones. Her last plan had been to start a Whitebridge orchestra, which was all very well and good until it turned out that the only musicians in town were Billy herself, Ag, the local policeman’s daughter, and Old Dave who played the spoons and couldn’t count higher than four once he’d had a drink.
“Yeah, another one of her village projects,” Jules said, sliding the bag of sandwiches over to Sophie.
“I don’t think anyone’s learned to play anything since the last orchestra attempt,” Sophie said. “At least not anything useful like a cello or a trumpet.”
“No, this time there’s no instruments required.” Jules leaned on the bar. “This time it’s a village choir.”
“Huh,” said Sophie. “Well, maybe that’s a better idea. Definitely easier on the ears, I’d think.”
“Mmm, I’m not so sure.” A customer appeared at the other side of the bar. “I’d better be off. I’ve put the sandwiches on your tab.” Jules stood up. “And don’t forget, boundaries.”
“Right, boundaries,” Sophie said.
It was all very well giving advice, she thought as she finished her sandwich. But she didn’t see her family going for it. Still, there was no harm in trying. She’d give them a talking to tonight. After all, it wasn’t like she had a date or anything.