Chapter Five
T he windows of the little village hall were all aglow in the dark evening. Tilly wrapped her denim jacket a bit more tightly around herself. She knew where she was going, Mila had provided directions after laughing when Tilly suggested she might like to come.
“I’ve got enough music in my life without having to practice singing,” she’d said, over the sound of Ag’s piano playing from the next room. “You have fun though, and tell Billy I say hi.”
It was the very beginning of autumn and the air had a distinct chill to it tonight. And Tilly had spent the day giving herself a stern talking to. Community policing was important. It might not be glamorous, but it was a large part of the job outside of the city, and she was going to be just as good at it as she was at everything else.
She excelled at taking exams, at knowing rules and regulations, at the nuts and bolts of being a police officer. And she was starting to have a sneaky feeling that her father had had her sent here to learn the more human side of policing.
Which was exactly what she was going to do. And that did not mean being a walk-over like Max was. She had no intention of doing anything other than sticking to the letter of the law. She was here to show Max how things should be done. Which definitely did not involve putting people’s driving licenses in brown envelopes and confiscating them until they’d had time to think about how naughty they’d been.
She tromped toward the open doors of the village hall.
Plus, she wasn’t going to be caught off guard. Every town had its secrets, and she was going to uncover Whitebridge’s. Every place had its seamy side, and she was going to find Whitebridge’s. She might be learning community policing, but she was going to find some juicy crime, whether that was an embezzling shop clerk or a teacher with a sordid past.
“Hello there.”
She turned around to see a tall woman with red-blond hair and glasses smiling widely at her. “Um, hello?”
“You must be the new police officer. Pleased to meet you.” The voice was distinctly American. That was more like it. An escaped gangster, perhaps. “My name’s Ava. I’m a teacher over at the school. Welcome to town. You heading to the choir?”
Tilly nodded. “A teacher? An American?”
“They do let us leave the country occasionally,” Ava said, looping her arm through Tilly’s. “Besides, I’m married to an Englishwoman, so that helps. How are you liking things here so far?”
“It’s fine,” Tilly said as they walked toward the village hall. She wasn’t used to this, wasn’t used to people just talking to her, touching her, being nice to her. It made her slightly suspicious.
“Oh, you’ll love it here, everyone does,” Ava said as they walked in.
Which sounded almost threatening. The sort of thing people said in horror movies about small towns that sucked you in and turned you into a zombie or something.
“Are you alright?” Ava asked, looking at Tilly with concern.
“Yes, yes, fine.” Stop thinking about zombies, she told herself.
“Good,” Ava grinned. “Then let’s start the introductions.”
“Introductions?” Tilly realized that they were in the warmth of the village hall and began to take her jacket off. She looked around and saw stacks of chairs, a small stage, an upright piano, and a group of people.
“It’s overwhelming at first, but you’ll get used to it quickly,” Ava said. “That’s my wife over there, Hope.” She waved at a woman with a ponytail that Tilly recognized. “And there’s Sylv from the shop. Oh, and that’s Billy over there by the piano.”
Tilly looked over and felt her stomach do a flip. Billy was tall and curvaceous with long, dark wavy hair and intense dark eyes. She was undeniably attractive, even if she wasn’t quite Tilly’s type.
“Billy’s married,” Ava said, as though she was reading Tilly’s mind.
“I know,” said Tilly. “Ag told me.”
“Ah, so you’ve met our prodigy,” Ava said with a chuckle. “She’s quite something, isn’t she? What’s the most inappropriate question she’s asked so far?”
Tilly rolled her eyes. “This morning over breakfast she asked me if I’ve ever killed a man.”
“And have you?” Ava asked.
“Not yet,” Tilly said, finally starting to smile.
“She once asked me if I’d ever thought about eating human flesh,” Ava said. “She’s quite the handful. Mind you, my daughter Alice was just as bad at her age, if not worse.”
“I’m not really sure that children are my thing,” Tilly confessed.
“Neither was I.” Ava laughed. “And now look at me. And look who we have here, who’d have thought that singing was so popular.”
Tilly turned to see who had just walked in and collided with someone so hard that for a second, she saw stars. A book fell to the floor. She automatically bent to pick it up at the same time as the person she’d bumped into did, and their hands brushed, and for a second all Tilly could do was look at the pale, soft hands next to hers.
Then she looked up and her heart tumbled in her chest and her mouth went dry and deep dark eyes looked into hers and for a moment she couldn’t even think.
???
“I don’t know about this,” Sophie said.
“Just drink up your pint and let’s go,” said Jules. “And here, this is the book you wanted.”
Sophie took the battered paperback and looked at the cover with glee. It showed a man’s hand on a woman’s bottom and promised to be a ‘rip-roaring rude bonkbuster.’ “You know, I can’t help myself when it comes to these. I can’t get enough of them.”
“I know what you mean,” said Jules with a grin. “I’m the same. They’re quite addictive, aren’t they?”
“At least it’ll give me something to look forward to tonight.”
Jules disappeared for a second, then came back around the bar carrying her jacket. “Stop being such a sad sack.”
“What if I can’t sing? What if I open my mouth and all that comes out is a frog croak or something?”
“Impossible,” Jules said, taking her arm and pulling her off her barstool. “Apart from anything else, I know you did singing in school because we all did. It’ll be just like that except we’re grownups. It’s going to be fun.”
“Where are you off to, then?” Both women turned around to see Stu, one half of Stu-and-Del and Gio’s friend, leaning on the bar.
“What’s it to you?” asked Jules.
“Nothin’,” Stu said, looking kind of hurt. “Just keepin’ an eye on Soph, that’s all.”
“Choir,” Sophie said primly. “Do you want to come? You’re very welcome. Billy Brooke’s set it up. It should be a good night out. ‘Course, there’s no beer, but I should think there’ll be hymns and probably some tea in the interval.”
Stu had paled more and more as she spoke, and he was now firmly shaking his head. “Nah, I’m right, thanks. You’ll be up at the village hall then?”
“Safe and sound,” Sophie said with a sigh. “No need to worry.”
“Righty-o,” Stu said. “I’ll get another pint in then.” And he turned back to the bar.
“Told you,” Jules said as they stepped out into the autumny evening. “Come to a couple of rehearsals and then you’ll have all the excuses you need. Any time you want to go out, you just say you’re going to choir and off you pop, no one the wiser. Even if you hate it, you can show up for long enough to make everyone think you’re a regular, surely?”
Sophie’s heart had lightened a little now that they were outside. This could actually work. “Yeah,” she said, feeling better. “Yeah, I can do that. I’m pretty sure I’m going to be terrible, though. So I’m just going to stand at the back and flap my mouth open and closed until it’s time for tea.”
“Whatever you need to do,” Jules said, turning up the path to the village hall. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”
They hurried inside and Sophie was tugging off her jacket with one hand and holding her book with the other when someone turned and smashed right into her. “Ow,” she said indignantly, dropping her book.
She bent to pick it up and her hands touched warm, long fingers. And when she looked up, her erstwhile attacker had bent too. And she was looking into wide blue eyes, at short, curly blonde hair, at a sharp chin and a determined nose, and her heart was suddenly beating very, very fast indeed.
“I’m Tilly,” said the generous mouth, and her cheeks were flushing red. “I’m a police officer.”
“I’m Sophie,” said Sophie. “And, um, I’m not?”