Chapter Seventeen
S lowly, Sophie walked toward the cafe. She didn’t know where else to go. She definitely didn’t want to go home. If she saw her brother and dad right now, she might say something she regretted.
She desperately didn’t want to think they were involved in anything, but how could she be sure? With the promises of raises in the new year, and Gio’s shiny new car? She did the accounts. There was nothing on her side that looked fishy. But then her dad waded in sometimes, and, to be honest, if there was anything that wasn’t quite right, he was unlikely to run it through the books.
But car stealing?
She knew that both her dad and Gio had been in trouble with the police before. Her dad after her mum had died. He’d had anger problems, had drunk a bit too much, had got into the odd fight. And Gio, well, Gio was just a big ball of testosterone looking for trouble sometimes. But he’d been good recently, and again, it had been drunken fighting.
She couldn’t put the two things together.
And she supposed she couldn’t blame Tilly for not wanting to get involved. Not when her job was on the line.
Which didn’t make any of it any easier. Yet again, Gio and her dad had ruined a dating prospect. And yet again, she was forced to look after their interests at the expense of her own.
She just hoped that Jules was still at the cafe, maybe even with Amelia and Cass, so that she’d have someone to commiserate with.
Two minutes later, she pushed open the door to find Jules, Am, and Cass sitting at a table with several uneaten paninis in front of them.
“Soph?” Jules said in surprise. “I thought you were singing?”
Sophie opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Then the sobs started and she couldn’t say a thing.
“Wine,” Jules ordered. Amelia and Cass got up immediately and Jules went to put her arm around Sophie. “Come on, love,” she said, ushering her into a chair. “It can’t be that bad.”
But Sophie couldn’t answer. She was too busy crying.
“Here you go,” Cass said, shoving a box of tissues in front of Sophie and clinking four beakers onto the table.
“I got this,” said Amelia, and there was the sound of a cork popping and then wine glugging into glasses.
“Now,” Jules said. “Stop this crying and tell us what happened.”
“I kissed her,” wailed Sophie.
“She what?” Cass asked.
“She kissed her,” said Amelia.
“Who?” asked Cass.
“The policewoman,” Amelia said.
“Police officer,” sobbed Sophie.
“Then why’s she crying?” Cass asked. “I think we’re going to need more than one bottle of wine for this.”
“There’s a whole box left in the back from when we catered that wedding,” Amelia said. “So there’s plenty.”
“Here, drink,” said Jules, pushing the beaker of sticky red wine in front of Sophie.
Sophie took a sip, then a mouthful. Drinking stopped her crying. She couldn’t do both at once. She chugged half the glass, then pulled a tissue out of the box, blew her nose, scrubbed at her eyes, and finally took a breath. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Jules said gently. “Now, why don’t you tell us what happened?”
Sophie nodded. “We kissed. It was… amazing.”
“So amazing that it made you cry,” Cass guessed.
“I don’t think you’re helping,” said Amelia.
“I swear, if the two of you don’t shut up, I’m going to throw you out,” said Jules.
“It’s our cafe,” said Amelia.
“I don’t care,” Jules said. She turned back to Sophie. “Let me guess. You kissed first and then you told her who you were?”
Sophie nodded again, more miserably this time. “She, um, didn’t take it well.”
“Probably because of Gio,” said Cass darkly. “He’s an eejit. Your dad’s always saying so.”
“It’s not,” said Sophie. “Well, maybe it is a bit. It’s because she’s got a case, an investigation. I think it’s like her big break or whatever. She’s looking into all these cars around here getting stolen.”
“Yeah, Dougie McKeefe got his nicked the other day,” said Amelia. “Dunno why, it was a piece of crap.”
“Probably for parts,” Sophie said.
The others looked at her.
“What? I’m not supposed to know what goes on in garages? There are places called chop shops. The stolen cars get driven in, the mechanics there strip them for parts or rebuild them, depending on how good the chassis is. Then they get sold on.”
“Oh,” Cass said, turning to look at Amelia.
“No,” said Amelia. “We’re not a garage, we’re not car thieves, and we don’t know the first thing about cars. We’re not opening a chop shop.”
“It’s a good way of stealing cars ‘cos it means you’re not stealing expensive new ones with fancy alarms and trackers and stuff. You’re stealing older ones that go under the radar. You’re only driving them as far as your chop shop and by the time they come out again, they’re unrecognizable,” said Sophie.
“Huh,” Jules said. “And Tilly thinks that your dad and Gio are involved in something like this?”
Sophie nodded.
“So she can’t date you,” guessed Jules. She sat back in her chair and drank some wine, finishing up quickly and topping everybody’s glasses up. “Are they?” she asked finally.
Sophie shook her head. “No. At least, I don’t think so.”
“They could be,” Cass said. “Would you know?”
“I think so,” said Sophie. “I mean, they’d be working nights, so I’d have to know, wouldn’t I. It’s just…”
“What?” prompted Amelia.
Sophie sighed. “There’s a bit more money floating around than there should be, I think. It could be nothing. It could be something. I’m not sure. But I do know that the garage isn’t being used as a chop shop.”
“Honestly,” said Cass. “Women. Can’t live with them, can’t live without them, not allowed to kill them.” She drank.
“I don’t want to kill her,” Sophie said, drinking again too. The wine was sticky on her lips and her legs were starting to feel heavy. “I want to date her.”
“Are you sure?” asked Amelia. “I mean, she’s just practically accused your family of being car thieves and then walked out on you. That doesn’t sound terribly romantic to me.”
“Pretty sure,” Sophie said. She closed her eyes for a second and could feel Tilly’s lips on hers, could feel the heat of her body. She opened her eyes again and looked for her wine. “She’s really attractive. And she’s smart.”
“And she thinks you’re part of some sort of criminal family. Like in The Sopranos,” Cass said. “Mind you, that sort of thing can work, can’t it? You know, warring clans and the like. It’s dead romantic.”
Jules turned to her sister and Cass. “The two of you have very odd ideas of what’s romantic and what’s not.”
“Give me a break,” Cass said. “I’m aromantic, I’m playing guessing games at all this stuff, but I’m trying to be helpful.”
“Fair,” Jules said. She sat back in her chair again, a thoughtful look on her face. “You really sure that you’re interested in this Tilly, even after this?”
Sophie nodded. “I know it’s weird. I know I probably shouldn’t be, but there’s something there. I can’t help having feelings for her, can I? It’s some sort of hormonal thing or something.”
“Or love at first sight,” Amelia said, raising her glass and drinking. This time she was the one that refilled the glasses.
“That happens,” Cass said wisely. “It’s in the films all the time.”
“I think it’s biological,” said Amelia. “Something to do with pheromones or something? I don’t remember. But it’s definitely a thing.”
“I’m not saying I’m in love with her,” Sophie said, drinking again. How would she know? Maybe she was. She thought about her a lot. She definitely wanted more of the kissing. And maybe some other stuff, too.
“Can you imagine the world without her in it?” asked Cass.
“What?” Sophie said. Her eyelids felt heavy. The wine was getting to her.
“That’s supposed to be the test, I think,” Cass replied. “Like, imagine the world without her in it and it gets all black and depressing and stuff and that means that you must be in love with her.”
“What?” Sophie said again.
“Ignore her,” said Amelia. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Do you feel all funny when she’s around? Like you can’t control your own body?”
Sophie thought about the number of times she’d bumped into Tilly. She definitely did seem clumsier when they were together. “Maybe?” she hazarded.
“Then you’re probably in love,” said Amelia. She grinned and poured more wine into Tilly’s beaker. “We should drink to that.”
“Drink to me being in love with a policewoman who thinks I’m a criminal? Police officer,” Sophie corrected herself.
Jules slapped a hand on the table and Sophie nearly dropped her drink. “There’s only one thing to do,” she announced.
“What’s that?” asked Sophie, slightly suspicious now that the wine might be getting to everyone, not just her.
“It’s simple,” said Jules. “If you like Tilly and still want to date her, but she doesn’t want to date you because she thinks you’re a criminal. Or thinks your family’s the Sopranos or whatever—”
“I’m an alto,” Sophie felt the need to add.
“Fine, your family’s the Altos,” said Jules. “Well, there’s only one solution to all this.”
“We take out a hit on her,” said Cass.
“What?” Both Amelia and Jules turned to her.
She shrugged. “It’s what they’d do in The Sopranos. Sorry, the Altos.”
“No,” Jules said. “The only thing we can do is clear Sophie’s name. If we do that then Tilly won’t have an excuse not to be interested, will she?”
There was silence while they all digested this.
“Actually,” Amelia said after a minute. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“It’s… not,” Sophie said, trying to think clearly and not succeeding terribly well. Then she did come up with something. “How are we supposed to do that, though?”
Cass was opening another bottle of wine. “Easy,” she said. “We find the real chip shop.”
There was another moment of silence, more confused this time.
“I think she means chop shop,” Amelia said finally.
And Sophie grinned. “That’s it,” she said. “We find the real chop shop and Tilly won’t be able to blame our place anymore.” She stood up and her legs were a bit wobbly. She’d drunk a lot of wine quite fast.
“I’ve just opened a new bottle,” Cass complained.
“We can go in a bit,” said Jules. “We should eat something first, too. It might be a long night.”
“Fine,” Sophie said, sitting down. “But nothing with pineapple in it.”
It felt better to have a plan.