Page 74 of Play Our Song

“No, no,” she said. She sighed. “The garage was being used, but only a big storage shed out back. We arrested the owner, but it turns out he was illegally renting the place out. So we’ve got a location, but we still don’t have the actual thieves.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” said her father stoutly. “That’s still good police work, and that’s what counts. You’ll get there in the end. Slow and steady wins the race, eh?”

She had a genuine smile then. It was a small one, but still. She’d forgotten how her dad could put a bright face on things, how he could make her feel better. “Yeah, we’ll get there.”

“Is everything alright down there? You’re sounding a wee bit glum.”

She’d also forgotten that he could read her like a book. “All fine,” she said, hoping he was going to leave the issue alone.

“Ah, right.” He was quiet for a minute. “I was thinking about maybe coming for a visit. Saturday afternoon if you’re not too busy? I’d like to see you.” He was quiet again for a second. “I, uh, I miss having you around.”

She cursed at herself. She’d been so involved in her own life that she hadn’t even thought about her dad rattling around alone in that big house. Maybe having him here was what she needed. A reminder of how important the job was, and a friendly face around for a few hours. “I should have invited you,” she said.

“No, no, you’ve been busy.”

“No, I should have invited you. And I’m officially inviting you now. Would you like to come over on Saturday and have a tour of Whitebridge? We can make a day of it.”

Her father chuckled. “I’d like that,” he said. “I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

When she put the phone down, Tilly sighed. Life had to go on, she supposed. But that didn’t mean that she was going to be happy about it.

She had the feeling that she was never really going to be happy again.

Chapter Thirty

Sophie stood outside the village hall and looked at the very closed door. She really didn’t want to do this, but Jules was her friend and she couldn’t let her down.

“No,” Jules had said. “I’m definitely not telling Billy that. You know how she gets about her music.”

They’d been sitting in the pub. Sophie had had to escape the house once her dad and Gio had come home. The two of them had been at each other's throats all day. Gio, quite understandably, slightly upset that he’d spent the night in jail due to his father’s burgeoning property empire.

“Come on, you’re married to her, please?” Sophie had asked.

“Absolutely not. If you don’t want to sing, and I can see why you might not, you need to go and tell her yourself,” Jules had said adamantly.

Which was pretty fair, Sophie knew, but still, she wished she wasn’t standing here right now. She sighed, stood up straighter, and walked in.

Straight into Tilly.

“Jesus,” Sophie said, rubbing her head where it had hit Tilly’s.

“Crap, sorry,” said Tilly, rubbing her head where it had hit Sophie’s.

Sophie took a step back, unsure what to say, her stomach cramping and her skin prickling.

“Sorry,” Tilly said again. She pressed her lips together nervously. “I, uh, I was just coming in to see Billy.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Right.” Tilly swallowed audibly.

“About the singing.”

“Absolutely,” Tilly agreed.

“We can’t…”

“No.”

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