Page 75 of Play Our Song

They stood there, facing each other, the world continuing to turn even though everything seemed so very, very still.

Then Billy pushed open the big front door. “What are you two doing in here?” she asked. It was a good twenty minutes before the choir rehearsal was supposed to start.

Tilly eyed Sophie, who nodded at her. “We, um, need to talk to you.”

Billy glared at them both. “No,” she said finally.

“No?” said Sophie.

“No,” said Billy. “Just no.”

“But—” began Tilly.

“No,” said Billy. She sighed. “I won’t have it. I know exactly what’s gone on. This is a small town. I know exactly why you’re here. And the answer is no. You’ve both made a commitment. Now stick to it. Whatever happened in your personal lives, I’m not asking you to make out on stage or anything. You’re adults, you can sing a thirty-second solo together, end of story.” She swept past them into the hall itself.

“Well,” Tilly said, watching her go.

“Quite,” agreed Sophie.

There was silence for a second until Billy began playing scales on the piano. Sophie took a breath.

“Okay,” she said reluctantly.

“Okay?” asked Tilly.

“She’s right,” Sophie said. “We’re adults, we agreed to do this, we shouldn’t let other people down because… well, because we can’t make things work between us.”

Tilly exhaled and nodded. “Alright.”

“We can sing?” asked Sophie.

“Yes,” Tilly said. “We can sing.”

Sophie checked her watch. They were so early that there was no point going in yet, but it was late enough that there was no point going anywhere else.

“Your dad’s helping us with our inquiries,” Tilly said.

“I’m well aware of that.” It was odd being close to her. Odd to feel the familiar tingling sensations in her body. But then, Sophie supposed that you didn’t just stop responding to someone, even when that person wasn’t your person anymore.

“I just meant, well, I meant that he was helping us, that’s all,” said Tilly, flushing slightly. “He’s unlikely to face any charges.”

“Right.”

Tilly exhaled again, the sound loud in the little entrance hall. “Listen, Sophie—”

Sophie held up her hands. “I know,” she said, because she did know. “I know that you were just doing your job, I know that in the end nothing terrible happened. I know that none of us are in prison and you had no choice, and we had an agreement and all the rest of it.”

“Then…” Tilly shook her head. “Alright. You get it.”

Sophie turned to her now. “The job will always come first,” she said. “I don’t think I can do that. I don’t think I can be second all the time. And I can’t disappoint my family like that. They’re everything I’ve got, you have to understand that. They wouldn’t have been pleased under the best of circumstances, but now…”

“Now they’d hate you as much as they hate me,” Tilly said numbly.

Sophie had an overwhelming urge to reach out, but she kept her hands to herself. “It just wouldn’t work,” she said.

Tilly looked at her for a long minute, her nose upturned, her hair mussed by the wind, her eyes deep and blue, and Sophie longed to kiss her. But again, she kept her lips to herself. “Okay,” she said finally. “Alright.”

Sophie decided she might as well go into the hall. It would be warmer there and she was afraid that if she stayed here, she might do or say something she might regret. Whether that would be something good or bad, she really wasn’t sure.

---