Chapter Thirty Four
S ophie took a deep breath in and then out again.
“You’ll be fine,” Jules said. “Easy peasy. Just imagine everyone naked.”
“Not sure that’s going to help,” Sophie said, peeking through the curtains to see half the town sitting in the audience.
“You could have a drink?” Jules offered.
Sophie glared at her. “Do you not think that drinking’s got us into enough trouble?”
“I’m not sure whether you can blame the drink for that or Amelia and Cass. I love them both dearly, but they have some kind of magnetic attraction when it comes to trouble.” Jules peeked out of the curtain next to Sophie. “There they are. They’re very supportive, I’ll give them that.”
With a sigh, Sophie let the curtain fall back. “Where is she?”
“Who?” asked Jules, still surveying the audience.
“Um, Tilly?”
“Oh, right. I’m sure she’ll be here.” Jules had taken against Tilly ever since the arrest. “If she has to be.”
Sophie started pacing the stage. She couldn’t sing the solo by herself. What was she supposed to do?
She gritted her teeth, annoyance building in her chest. She should have known better than to trust Tilly. So much for them talking after the show. So much for whatever compromise she had thought they might be able to make.
???
Paul Farmer’s body was heavy and she couldn’t move it. The best she could do was drag at his feet to get him vaguely flat as she yelled into her phone to have the ambulance sent.
“Stay with me,” said the responder. “There’s an ambulance on the way.”
Tilly’s heart was pounding in her chest as she ripped Paul’s shirt buttons off, baring his chest. The ambulance might be on its way, but it was going to be too late unless she did something about it.
“Is the patient breathing?” asked the tinny voice from her phone.
“No,” she said, clasping her fingers together.
“Then stay calm. I’m going to lead you through the process of doing CPR,” said the voice, sounding quite bored by the whole ordeal.
But Tilly was already pushing down on Paul’s flabby chest, closing her eyes, bringing her training back. “I’m a police officer,” she shouted at the phone. “I know what I’m doing. Just get me some help.”
She pushed deep into his chest, deeper than she thought she had to. That’s what her instructor had always said. She’d never done this before on a live person and was horrified to hear the crack of ribs breaking. For an instant, she was going to stop.
“Just keep going,” said the phone. “You’re doing a good job. It’s normal to hear those noises. It means you’re doing it right.”
She pushed harder, trying to keep the rhythm, looking around, praying for someone else to come, someone else to help take the responsibility off her shoulders. She could feel tears in her eyes, could feel panic wanting to come.
“You’re doing fine,” said the phone. “Let me count you through it. Come on, we’ll do this together. One and two and three. One and two and three.”
Tilly clung to the voice on the other end of the phone as her arms started to ache.
???
“This is ridiculous,” Sophie muttered.
“She’ll be here,” said Jules, who was busy painting some lipstick on.
“Warm up in ten minutes,” Billy called, clapping her hands.
Sophie snorted in annoyance and, turning on her heel, walked out of the little practice room behind the stage.
She had to come; she had to be here. She wouldn’t leave her to do this alone, would she? Not after everything that they’d been through. She had to know that if she didn’t show up, then… then there’d be nothing left. No trust. No connection. No hope.
Sophie went around the stage, coming out into the tiny hall and pushing through the people there to get outside.
What had she been expecting?
She hadn’t let herself think about it, she hadn’t let herself hope. But now that Tilly wasn’t there, she realized that she’d been expecting her happy ending. That as much as she knew this couldn’t work, as angry as she’d been at Tilly, as much as her father had been furious, she’d still, deep in her heart, thought that there could be a happy ending.
“There still can,” she whispered to herself. But only if Tilly showed up.
All of it was ridiculous, she could see that now. Could see, now that Tilly wasn’t here, that her life without Tilly in it simply wasn’t as good. She missed her, which sounded pathetic, but it was true.
“Sophie!”
She turned and something small and fast crashed into her legs.
“Dash, don’t do that,” Mila said, rolling her eyes at Sophie. “Sorry, we’re still working on personal space.”
Sophie forced a smile. “Not a problem. Hello, Ag.”
“Hello,” Ag said. She tilted her head to one side. “You look pretty. Almost as pretty as when you were at our house with Tilly. I like your trousers. I’m here for your concert. Are you going to come to my concert? It’s in two weeks, except it’s not really a concert, it’s a competition and actually I don’t know if people can just come and watch or if it’s only judges that watch that kind of thing but—”
“Ag,” said Mila warningly.
“Sorry,” said Ag.
“Why don’t you take Dash and get us some seats?” Mila suggested to her daughter. Ag and Dash chased off happily through the crowds. “Honestly,” Mila said, shaking her head. “I don’t know how I’m going to cope with three of them.”
Sophie was peering out onto the street, searching for any sign of Tilly, so the words took her a second to figure out. “Three?” she said, turning back to look at Mila.
Mila pulled a face. “I thought Tilly might have told you already,” she said. “But yes, three. And I’ve already used my two favorite crime writers to name Dash and Ag. Goodness knows who the next one will be named for.”
“You’ll have some time to decide,” Sophie said.
“There’s plenty of things to decide,” sighed Mila. “Like whether or not Ag can go to a conservatory, and where we’re going to keep a grand piano if she wins one.”
“I’d keep it in the village hall,” Sophie said, looking back out to the street. “The acoustics in a private house probably wouldn’t be great, anyway.”
“Huh.” Mila grinned. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”
Sophie turned back to her. “No Max today?”
Mila shook her head. “They’re making the arrests for that car theft ring this afternoon,” she said.
Sophie’s stomach plummeted. She turned all her attention back to Mila. There was no point looking out on the street, Tilly wouldn’t be there. She wouldn’t be coming at all. Sophie felt sick. Tilly’s job had come first again. Of course it had.
???
“We’ve got a pulse,” said the male paramedic.
“It’s alright, love,” the female paramedic said to Tilly. “It’s alright, we’re here now, you’ve done brilliantly.”
Tilly’s arms felt like they were made of stone and her back ached with the stress of it all. But she looked over and saw Paul Farmer’s skin was turning pink again instead of that horrible, ashy gray. For a second, she closed her eyes and lay her head on the paramedic’s shoulder.
“You did wonderfully,” the paramedic said, patting her back and drawing away. “But we’ve got to get him to the hospital now.”
“Right, yes, of course,” Tilly said, pulling back.
“Do you know who he is? Who his next of kin are?”
Tilly felt nauseous. How was she supposed to tell Sophie this? But she nodded.
The paramedic looked at her for a moment. “You’re police, right?”
“Yes.”
“Want to come in the van with us?” she offered, eyes kind. “The hospital’s not far. You can help keep an eye on things, and you can call his next of kin from in the back, if you want? He’s starting to come round, might even be able to talk to them himself to keep them from worrying.”
“Yes,” Tilly said. “Yes, that sounds like a good idea.”
“Hop in then, love,” said the paramedic, turning around to help her mate roll the stretcher into place.
With a heavy heart, Tilly followed the stretcher into the ambulance, wondering just what she was going to say. Paul was starting to stir, saying something behind his oxygen mask.
“Sir, stay still, sir,” said the male paramedic.
But he kept squirming, finally reaching up to take the mask off his face. “Call. Gio.” Two words.
Tilly nodded.
???
The job, the job, it was always going to be about the job. Sophie was so angry she could spit, but was simultaneously so scared that she could faint. What was she supposed to do?
“I can sing the solo with you,” Jules suggested.
“You’re not a soprano,” said Sophie. “Also, you haven’t exactly practiced.”
“Fair point.”
“Alright, everyone around the piano, please,” Billy said. “A two minute warm up and then we’re on.” She eyed Sophie. “Where’s your partner in crime?”
“Not here,” Sophie said, swallowing down her anxiety.
Billy’s nostrils flared. “If she doesn’t show up, there’s going to be trouble.”
Tell me about it, thought Sophie. She turned to look at the door even though she knew that there wasn’t a chance in hell of Tilly turning up. No, she’d be making her arrests, she’d be doing her job just like always, putting it before everything and everyone else.
Except… the door was opening. Sophie’s heart galloped.
“No, no,” Billy said. “Choir only.”
“It’s an emergency,” Gio said, his face as white as paper, his hands trembling.
The choir parted so that Sophie could get to him, could take his hands, could look into his eyes.
“Soph,” he said, voice strangled. “It’s dad.”