Page 91 of Play Our Song

“It had better be,” said Sophie. “The house is almost finished, dad’s over there doing a final look-around and Gio’s wandering around with a paint can getting the last patches. The buildershave collected their stuff, so unless the entire extension falls down immediately, I think we should be alright.”

“Do you think Mila knows it’s going to be finished?” Tilly asked.

Sophie laughed this time. “Knowing Max, probably. I mean, it was practically done before they left, and I know he wanted it to be a surprise that it was done a week early, but you know what he’s like. I really don’t think he can keep a secret.”

“I can keep secrets,” Tilly said with a broad wink. She tipped her cap until it was rakishly over one eye.

Sophie’s breath left her body for a second. “As long as you don’t keep them from me,” she said. Then she glimpsed the clock by the door. “And as long as you don’t miss that damn plane.”

“Alright, alright,” Tilly said. She took a step toward Sophie and kissed her cheek. Then changed her mind and kissed her lips.

Sophie felt the familiar warmth running through her veins at Tilly’s touch. She shivered.

“Sorry,” Tilly said. “But you have to change the baby. He’s not going to smell any better. I’d help but…”

“You’ve got a plane to meet,” Sophie said, holding Art with one hand and pushing Tilly toward the door with the other.

???

Tilly pulled the car onto the motorway and relaxed a little. She liked driving. It was calming. More calming than home had been recently, anyway. What with Gio dropping by at least once a day, and Paul coming almost as often, with Mila visiting with the baby and the kids running around, it was sort of nice to get a moment to herself.

Not that she begrudged a moment that she spent living with Sophie. She loved her to death. But now that she was about to take over the garage, she was on edge and worried all the time. Which was odd, because Tilly knew she could handle it. She’d been practically running the place for years. And it wasn’t like Paul was going to leave her to run it alone. He was bound to be in there every day for a few hours.

The phone rang and Tilly touched the hands-free button. “Ware.”

“It’s me,” Sophie said. Tilly could hear the cries of the baby in the background. “He won’t drink the milk.”

“Did you warm it?”

“Did you tell me to warm it?”

“Maybe?” hazarded Tilly. “Max’s mum said you’re supposed to put it in a cup of hot water for a few minutes and then pour some milk on the back of your hand to make sure it’s not too hot.”

“Ooo-kay… Right, yes, alright, I can do that.”

“Relax, you’re doing a good job,” said Tilly encouragingly. “You’ll be fine.”

“I’m not so sure about that. He keeps crying. Just… just get that plane, okay?”

“I’m on my way,” Tilly said, ending the call.

So much stress. She sighed and settled back in to driving. With Paul retiring, she’d bought up the idea of retiring to her own father. He’d laughed at her and told her he’d die on the beat, which she hoped he didn’t mean literally.

She had persuaded him to start dating again, which was progress. She’d been pretty happy with herself for that, up until her dad had announced that he now had a girlfriend. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Not a real, serious girlfriend. But Becca had proven nice, sensible, and a fellow police officer.

She’d be moving into Tilly’s childhood home next month, something that Tilly knew she should be happy for, but also made her a little nervous. She couldn’t control her dad’s life. She could just hope that everything went well.

So many changes. So much was going to be different. Life just kept moving onward, and she knew that it had to, but she worried sometimes that she didn’t have time to enjoy things before they were gone.

She was so busy thinking about this that when the silver car jetted past her, she reached up and switched on the lights and siren without really thinking about it. And then she had to chase it down. She had no choice.

???

Sophie bounced the baby in one arm. He gurgled, and she smiled. “See? It’s not so bad, is it?”

He gave another gurgle and then spat up what seemed like half the milk he’d drunk.

“Crap.” She grabbed a tea towel and cleaned him up before checking the time. “You know what, why don’t we go and see Uncle Gio?” she asked.

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