Chapter Twenty Seven
S ophie tried to concentrate on her computer screen and failed miserably. Partly, she was tired. Spending every other evening with Tilly was exhausting. Not that she regretted it. Partly, she was distracted. In a good way.
The idea of moving in with Tilly was so new, so brilliant, that she hadn’t quite digested it yet. She knew that she wanted it, knew that she desperately wanted it. But she wasn’t quite sure she believed it yet. Like it was a lottery win or something like that, something that was so good it wasn’t quite real yet.
“What’s with you?” her dad asked, passing by her desk and doing a double take. “You’re sitting there grinning like the cat that got the cream.”
“Nothing,” she said quickly.
Paul Farmer hesitated, then crossed his arms and came closer to the desk. “Sophia Isabella, don’t you tell lies to me. I’ve known you your whole life and if anyone knows there’s something going on, it’s me.”
She sighed. “Dad, it’s really nothing, not yet.”
He perched on the edge of her desk. “Nothing? Is that what you call going out every other night and coming home with a smile all over your face? It’s not singing that’s done that. I’m not an idiot, you know.”
Oh dear. “I know that, dad.”
“And you’re an adult now. I can’t forbid you from going out to see people.” He looked down and gave a sniff. “And, um, I know I wasn’t always great about the gay thing.”
“You did threaten to throw me out of the house,” Sophie said, getting her feet back in the conversation.
He looked up at her. “I did. And I’ve apologized and will forever regret saying it. You’re my daughter, and it took me a while to get used to things being different. I’m sorry, really, truly sorry.”
“I know, dad.” He was sorry. It had taken some time. It had been a rocky patch, but she knew that she was accepted.
“I love you.”
“What?” The words took her by surprise, not that he never said them, though he rarely did, but because he was saying them here and now.
“I love you,” he said again. He rubbed his face. “You’re my daughter and I love you to death. I might not always have done the best job, especially without your mum around. But I love you and all I want is for you to be happy.” He sniffed again. “Your mum’d be proud of you.”
“Would she?”
He nodded. “She liked an independent woman, one that no man could boss around. She used to drive me crazy sometimes. It took me a while to get used to that too, to being ordered around by this little slip of a girl.” He smiled at the memory of it. “I’d have done anything for her, though. If…” Another sniff. “I’d have gladly gone instead of her.”
Sophie’s eyes filled with tears and for a second she couldn’t speak. She had to blink and gain control of herself. “Dad…” she said finally.
“Oh, I know. I’m being a soppy old fool,” he said. He patted her hand. “But I just wanted you to know that when I fell in love with your mum, I shouted it from the damn rooftops. I couldn’t believe that someone that perfect could love me, and I told as many people as I could just in case she tried to change her mind. I just wanted the world to know that for an instant I was good enough to be loved by someone like that.”
“Dad,” she said again.
He patted her hand again. “No, hear me out. If I’ve put you in a position where you feel like you can’t tell me news as important as that, where you think I’d be uncomfortable or angry or somehow disappointed, I want you to know how very, very sorry I am. I want you to be happy, Soph. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“I know.”
“So, is there anything you want to tell me?”
Sophie exhaled, rolled her shoulders, then nodded. This was hardly the time or the place, and not exactly what she’d imagined, but she had to do this. “There’s a woman,” she said, the words barely sounding real.
Her dad grinned. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s nice and kind? Gentle when she needs to be and bossy when she has to be? She treats you well and puts that smile on your face?”
Sophie thought about Tilly and nodded. “Yes, she’s all those things.”
“Then that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” he said, standing up. “She sounds lovely. When you’re ready, bring her over for dinner. Or we can go out to lunch. Whatever you think would make the right impression.”
She had to take another breath. “Thanks, dad.” She scratched her head. “Um, actually, there’s something—”
“Dad!” Gio yelled from across the garage. “A hand, please!”
“Bugger,” said her dad. “We’ll talk about this later, alright?” he said to Sophie, then he ran off to see what Gio needed.
That wasn’t so bad, was it? Sophie breathed, calming herself. It hadn’t been so bad. It had been… touching. Sad, a little. But also hopeful. Okay, so she hadn’t exactly told him everything, but she’d made a good start and so far things had gone well.
She felt lighter, like part of a weight had been lifted off her.
Her smile came back as she wiggled her mouse and got back to work.
???
“You’ve got your vest on?” Max asked for the fifth time.
“Yes,” said Tilly. “I’m fully equipped and ready.”
Max checked his watch and then peered out of the window of the police station. “Where are they?”
“Should be here any minute, sir.” Waiting for backup had been his idea, not hers, and she’d bowed to it, both because it was protocol and because… Because she kind of hoped that with more people around Sophie would be less likely to see her.
Which was ridiculous, of course, but she could hope.
Not for an instant had she considered not acting on this information. Not for a second had she considered not doing her job. But she had wondered if perhaps she shouldn’t be the one doing this, if maybe she was too compromised.
It wasn’t a feeling that she liked. She knew in her heart that she’d done nothing wrong, but nothing about this felt right.
There were consequences to every decision. But these consequences were going to be personal ones, and she really didn’t want to think about what they would be.
“It’s going to be alright,” Max said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“Is it?” Her voice sounded small.
“Probably.” He sighed. “I can’t promise. But you’re doing the right thing, and you’re an incredible police officer.”
“Weren’t you the one that told me to remember that there are people involved here, that it’s not just about the laws?”
Max nodded. “But then, sometimes people get hurt, Till. It’s the nature of life, the nature of the job.”
“Are you telling me that you’d go to Mila’s bookshop and arrest her and her partner?”
Max looked at her and sighed. “Yes,” he said simply. “Yes, if I had to, I would. Because as much as I might not want to, at least I could ensure that they were treated properly, and they got a fair hearing. It’s cold comfort, but I’d do what I had to.”
There was the sound of rumbling from outside.
“Looks like our back up’s here,” Max said. “You ready for this?”
Tilly wasn’t, but she nodded. Max was right. She had to do her job.
They went in through the open front of the garage, shouting and yelling and in the confusion hoping that no one reached for a weapon.
Max himself took down Paul Farmer, grabbing his arm and bringing him to his knees to cuff him on the floor.
Gio spat and swore and ended up bent over the bonnet of a car with a police officer holding his head to the metal as he too was cuffed.
Tilly didn’t know how it happened. One minute she was right behind Max, the next she was turning around and seeing Sophie. Maybe she’d tried to run, maybe she’d tried to fight, Tilly didn’t know. But somehow she’d ended up splayed across the concrete floor, blood coming from her nose.
“Get off her,” Tilly shouted.
The officer who was cuffing her looked up in surprise.
“She’s bleeding,” Tilly said.
“She’s cuffed,” said the officer gruffly.
Tilly reached into her pocket and found a tissue before she strode over to where Sophie was lying. She pulled at her arms, got her into a sitting position, and then used the tissue to blot the blood from her nose.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, not knowing whether she was apologizing for the bloody nose, the raid, or the fact that she was here at all.
“Right.” Sophie’s face was hard.
“I’m just doing my job. We had an agreement,” said Tilly. “You’ll be out in no time as long as you’ve done nothing.”
“You don’t know that I’ve done nothing?” Sophie said, eyes flashing now. “You think that I could have had anything to do with anything? How could you? How—”
“Three vehicles found in the back,” said an officer, coming in through the rear door. “There’s a storage area out there.”
Tilly turned to Sophie, who’d gone pale now. “I didn’t… We didn’t…”
Tilly’s stomach turned itself into a knot. She’d been so worried about this, it had torn her up inside. And now, now it turned out that it was all true, that she never should have trusted Sophie in the first place.
She felt physically sick.
“Tilly,” Sophie said. “We didn’t do this.”
“Then tell me who did.”
“Don’t talk,” Paul Farmer yelled at his daughter. “Don’t talk without a solicitor. Don’t even say a word.”
Sophie looked at her dad, then looked back at Tilly.
“Tell me who did this if you didn’t,” Tilly said.
Sophie took a breath and swallowed. “I want my lawyer,” was all she said.