Chapter Twelve
“L et me get this straight,” Jules said, leaning on the bar. “She asked you out, you said no, Billy interrupts everything, and you… You just stand there mouth opening and closing like a fish and don’t explain yourself?”
“Pretty much,” Sophie said miserably. “Well, except for the fish part. I don’t think I was particularly fishlike. More… more stunned, actually. Also, to be fair, I did attempt to explain, but every time I did, she just interrupted me.”
“She probably didn’t want to talk about something that was so awkward and painful,” said Jules, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, Soph, I don’t know how we’re ever going to marry you off.”
“I don’t need marrying off,” said Sophie.
“What do you need, then?”
“I need…” She sighed. “I need someone nice and comfortable to curl up on my couch with.”
“Right, your couch. As in, not your dad’s. You need someone to take you away from all this. And that’s not going to happen if you keep turning down every available woman in town.”
“I have not turned down every available woman in town,” Sophie protested.
“Just Tilly then,” said Jules.
“Yes.”
“The one that you actually want to date.”
“Yes,” said Sophie again. “I think.”
“You think or you want?” asked Jules. “Because before you make the effort, you really should know.”
Sophie blew out a breath. Try as she might, and she had tried over the intervening two and a half days, she couldn’t forget about Tilly.
At first it had seemed the easiest thing. Just put it all behind her, pretend that the embarrassing incident never happened, tell Jules that she wasn’t going to choir anymore. Except that would be letting Billy down, and Sophie really didn’t want to do that.
Oh, that, and also every time she closed her eyes, she saw Tilly’s face. There was that too. She sighed into her beer. Why did she feel like this? Was it just because Tilly was the first available woman to appear in town in forever? Or was it something more serious?
“You really like her, don’t you?” Jules said, interrupting her thoughts.
Sophie looked at her pitifully. “I think so.”
“Right,” said Jules. “Does she make your tummy feel funny?”
Sophie nodded.
“Do you want to kiss her?”
Sophie nodded again.
“If there was a fire, would you pull her out of a burning building?”
“What kind of question is that?” Sophie asked. “I’d like to think that I’d pull anyone out of a burning building.”
“Fair,” said Jules. “But on the whole, I’d agree that you like our new police officer. And I don’t think she’s a bad choice. She was in here the other lunchtime with Max, talking about some big new case she’s working on. She was… cute. All flushed and excited.”
“You’re married,” Sophie said.
“And you’re getting jealous, which is also cute,” Jules said. “But if you actually do have some kind of feelings for her, there’s really only one option here.”
“Which is?” asked Sophie anxiously. “I mean, maybe there’s some kind of rehab program? Or perhaps I could just run away. Move to South America or something.”
“You could, but then Billy would just hunt you down and kill you,” Jules told her. “She’s got this winter concert planned to a T, and like it or not, you’re now a part of it. I don’t think there’s anywhere in the world that you could hide from an angry Billy.”
“No leaving the choir, then?”
Jules shook her head. “In fact, you’re in for a surprise in the next few days.”
“What kind of surprise?” She was suspicious now.
“Can’t tell you,” said Jules. “It’s Billy’s business, not mine. Just don’t go moving to Buenos Aires yet.”
“What’s the other option, then?”
Jules lifted her eyebrows. “You could stop being an idiot and find the woman and explain yourself? That seems the simplest plan. Don’t let her interrupt you, make sure you can say what needs to be said, and if she’s still butt-hurt after that, well, I don’t know. Buy her some flowers, maybe?”
“Do you buy Billy flowers when she’s mad at you?”
Jules snorted. “If I did, she’d hit me with them. No, I just lay out my feelings and we talk about stuff. You know, communicate? It’s what adults in relationships do for the most part. I can highly recommend it.”
“Fine,” Sophie said.
“No movie moments,” Jules reminded her. “You’re a grown woman with your own voice. Please use it. If you go around having these misunderstandings at the beginning of a relationship, they’ll get out of control and ruin things. And unlike in the movies, most relationships don’t recover from that kind of bullshit.”
Sophie finished up her pint. “You’ve suddenly turned into a relationship guru.”
“One of us here is actually in a relationship,” Jules reminded her.
“Fine, fine, I’m on it. No more silly misunderstandings,” Sophie said. “And now I’d better get home. Gio was supposed to cook dinner tonight, and I only stayed out this long in case he burned the place down.”
Jules laughed and Sophie left the pub.
SHE MADE FAIR points, Sophie thought as she turned into her street. Maybe she hadn’t tried hard enough to explain herself to Tilly. She’d been rather in shock, to be honest. And she should try harder. She wanted to try harder.
They barely knew each other, but Sophie was certain in a way she rarely was that she wanted to know Tilly better, that she wanted to see what could happen here. There was an attraction, and maybe, just maybe, that attraction could grow into something more.
Even if it didn’t, it could be fun finding out, she thought as she walked up to her front door.
She opened the door to a puff of smoke and the smell of burning.
“Jesus,” she said, starting to cough.
“It’s alright,” said her dad, coming out into the hall and flapping a tea towel around. “It’s all alright, don’t panic.”
“Do we not have a smoke alarm?” asked Sophie, still coughing.
“That eejit in there turned it off,” said her father. “Because the beeping was annoying him.”
Sophie would have sighed if she could have taken a deep enough breath to do so. “What the hell happened?”
Her father stood at the front door, rapidly opening and closing it, getting the smoke to clear. “It’s this thing called ‘weaponized incompetence,’” he said.
“What?”
“Weaponized incompetence,” he repeated. “It’s where—”
“I know what it is,” Sophie said. “I’m a bit surprised that you do though.”
He looked sheepish. “I read about it in one of your mum’s magazines once.” He sniffed. “Didn’t want to be an arse of a husband. Mind you, looks like your brother isn’t going to be marrying anytime soon.”
“Dad,” Gio said, coming to the kitchen door in an apron. “Dad, I’m just ordering some pizza.”
“No way,” said his father. “You’re going to do it again and do it right this time. You’re not spending hard earned money whenever it’s your turn to cook and you’re not getting out of your cooking duties. Bacon and sausage isn’t exactly a gourmet dish, get back on it and try again. This time keep the heat on medium and turn the fan on over the stove.”
Gio stood there for a second, a truculent look on his face, then he caved and nodded. “Right then.”
Sophie closed the front door and followed them both into the kitchen. The window was wide open and the last of the smoke was leaving. She helped herself to a seat at the table, her father sat too, and Gio took more bacon from the fridge and started again.
“Get it right and I’ll show you how to make spag bol for next time,” Sophie said.
“Really?” Gio asked. He was grinning at that. It was his favorite meal.
“It’s not hard,” said Sophie. “I’ll get the ingredients in and then you can make it, alright?”
“Yeah,” he said, concentrating harder now. “Yeah, alright.”
Their father shook his head. “Not been the best of days, has it, lad?” he said.
“Has it not?” asked Sophie. “What’s gone on then?” It had been her afternoon off from the garage and she’d spent most of it hanging around the pub and complaining to Jules and whoever else had come in.
Paul folded his arms. “Police around asking questions.”
Sophie felt her stomach contract. “Yeah? About what?”
“Nothing,” Gio said, bacon starting to sizzle in the pan. “Because we’ve done nothing.”
“Nothing for you to worry about,” Paul said.
“You sure?” asked Sophie.
“Don’t you start,” said her father. “It’s bad enough that the police harass us when we’ve not been on the radar for years. It’s some stolen car ring they’re after.”
“And we’ve got nothing to do with it?” Sophie said.
Her father looked at her.
“Fine, we’ve got nothing to do with it.”
“Could do without them poking around though,” said her father. “Incompetent idiots that they are.”
“Max is alright. You see him at the pub all the time,” said Sophie. She didn’t mention Tilly, hoping that Max’s more familiar name would help matters more.
“Yeah, well,” her father started.
But Sophie’s phone rang and cut him off before he could say anymore.
“Hello,” she said, not recognizing the number.
“Sophie? It’s Billy.”
Sophie couldn’t remember Billy calling her before. They knew each other well enough because of Jules, but it was Jules that arranged drinks and parties, not Billy. “This is a surprise.”
“I don’t have a lot of time,” Billy said. “But I’d like to know if you could make it half an hour earlier to choir tomorrow?”
Sophie blinked. “Um, what’s this about?”
“I’d prefer to tell you in person.”
Sophie took a breath. “Alright, yeah, shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Wonderful,” said Billy. “See you there.”
She hung up before Sophie could say anything else.
“Problem?” asked her dad.
Sophie shook her head. “Just a choir thing.”
The sizzling from the stove took on a more sinister tone. “Turn the bloody heat down,” barked her father.
“Right,” Gio said. “It’s alright. I’ve got it this time.”
Just as he said that, a splash of oil burst into flame and Sophie got up to get the kitchen fire blanket just in case she needed it. She’d worry about choir later, once she hadn’t burned to death.