StillWaters:Book4oftheSophieGreenMysteries (15 page)

“Don’t forget to tell Angel that,” I said glumly.

“Listen, I wanted someone to know, so you can sort of help me out. Please say you’ll help me out, Sophie?”

I made a face of despair at the hedgerow. I was not good with children. Well, that is to say, they seemed to like me, but I could never figure out why. I didn’t like them. Too noisy and unreasonable and demanding. Too much like me. Give me a cat any day.

But…but this was Harvey, and Angel, and I so wanted it all to work for them. I wasn’t so selfish that I’d wish them an eternity of misery just so they’d be able to empathise with me.

“Sure,” I heard myself say. “Whatever you need.”

I got back home and cleaned Norma off, then saw my bedraggled reflection and put myself in the bath. The water was hot and stinging and made me want to go back to bed. But after a long time I hauled my body out, dried it and dressed it and made it eat something.

My phone rang again while I was trying to figure out what to do with my day. It wasn’t like I had a job to go to any more.

“Hey.” It was Luke.

“Hey yourself.”

“Recovered from last night yet?”

“What’s to recover from?”

“You ate enough to feed an army. I have never seen a girl eat as much as you do. How do you not explode?”

Good job he wasn’t here in the night, I thought indelicately, but said vaguely, “I have big bones. You ate a lot.”

“I work out a lot. Plus, I’m three inches taller than you.”

“So that’s the secret to not being fat. Be six foot one.”

I could almost
hear
his eye-roll. “You’re not fat.”

“Yeah? You should see me this morning. Question: if Indian food is so fattening, why are there so many starving people in India?”

“They don’t eat as much as you do.”

Silence.

I tried to think of something to say, and came up with, “Have you thought any more about the case?”

And then I winced, because it wasn’t really a case. All it was, officially, was somewhere around the level of a hobby.

Great, my hobby is investigating dead people.

“I thought about it some more,” Luke said, “but how much can you tell from just reading statements?”

“Really I guess we should talk to them,” I said idly. “Oh, guess what? Disaster alert. Harvey’s kid is coming here.”

“Here?”

“Well, to his hotel. He wants her and Angel to meet. Luke, this is never going to end well. He reckons they’ll all be one happy family come Christmas.”

“Are you allowed to even put the words ‘happy family’ and ‘Christmas’ together in one sentence?”

“It’s a disaster and he wants me to help, but whatever I do will make it worse, and then I’ll be accused of taking sides… He keeps telling me stuff and I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Shame he’s not someone we’re investigating. Oh, and on that note, have you heard from Karen yet?”

“No,” I said, puzzled. “Why?”

“She just called me. She wants to collect up our stuff,” Luke said, sounding pissed off. “IDs and everything.”

“Even my gun?” I said, horrified.

“Well, the gun is licensed to you until April. So then it’s up to you to renew it.” He didn’t add that the renewal almost certainly wouldn’t go through, now that I was a civilian again. He didn’t have to.

I sat down hard on the edge of the sofa and nearly fell off. “My ID? How am I supposed to get people to let me do things now?”

“Guess you have to rely on your native charm.”

“Question still stands. God. When does she want them?”

“By tomorrow. But Sophie, I told her you had your ID when you went out last Saturday…”

“What?”

“In the water. And you know how things get ruined in the water, right?”

Realisation dawned. “Right,” I said slowly, taking the card out of my wallet and looking at it. “My ID got ruined.”

“We threw it away.”

“I should have asked for a new one—”

“But you already knew you were losing your job—”

“So I didn’t bother. Luke, you’re a bloody genius.”

He sighed happily. “Yeah, I know. Anyway. I was just calling to tell you.” Pause. “Did you sleep well?”

“Uh, yes.” Feeling something else was needed, I added, “You?”

“Yeah. Great. Well, not great, but—”

Thankfully at that moment my phone bleeped to let me know I’d got another call waiting.

“I have to go,” I said. “That might be my parents.”

I signed off pretty quickly, then sat looking at my phone for a while. I had no idea how to switch calls.

Eventually the phone rang again, and I answered it. It was Karen, and I tried to act surprised to hear from her.

“My ID was destroyed,” I said. “When I was in the water.”

“What water?”

“When I got hit over the head and nearly drowned.”

Karen hesitated. “What?” she asked eventually, and I gave her a brief rundown.

“But—do you know who it was?”

Yeah, that’s why I’m sitting here doing nothing. “No. I’m working on it.”

“Well, don’t work too hard. That will have been punishing to your system, and you’ve been ill recently, too…”

Really? I hadn’t noticed.

“I’m fine,” I said. “I’ve been taking it easy. I’m not working hard or anything. In fact, I only just got dressed.”

“Ah,” Karen said, and it occurred to me that the last was not the best thing to say. But who cared? She wasn’t my boss any more. “I’ve been talking to MI6 about the four of you,” she went on, and I actually physically kicked myself. “They said there’s not a lot going right now, but they’ll think of you. They were particularly impressed with your record.”

Now I knew she was lying.

“I don’t have a record,” I said. “I shot two criminals, is that what you meant?”

“In self defence,” Karen said piously. “That’s in your permanent record. Along with their confessions. You’ve captured several dangerous people, Sophie. If MI6 doesn’t want you, MI5 might, or even the police.”

Policeman Sophie. Yeah, I can see that.

Besides, I look crap in navy.

“Well, thanks,” I said limply.

“Keep in touch?”

Hardly likely.

“Sure,” I said. “Thanks. Bye.”

Bloody hell.

No sooner had I put the phone down on Karen than it rang again, this time with a voicemail from a Lieutenant Gillam, telling me my car had been delivered to my house, and the keys pushed through the letter box. Excitedly, I put on my outside gear and walked to my flat in the drizzle—but there was no sign of Ted.

I got out my mobile and called Lieutenant Gillam back, identified myself, and asked him whether the boys had re-camouflaged Ted, because I couldn’t see him anywhere.

“We delivered it to the address Agent de Valeras gave us,” said the lieutenant.

“Which address would that be?”

He read it off. Maria’s address.

I thanked the lieutenant and called Maria.

“Is my car outside your house?”

A pause while she walked across the room. “Well, look at that! Where did he come from?”

“Cornwall. They got the wrong address. Do you have my car keys in your letterbox?”

Another pause. “Yep. You want me to drive him over?”

“No, I’ll come get him. I’ll get the train.”

“Service is a bit rubbish on Sundays,” Maria warned. “Especially near the airport.”

“What the hell else am I going to do all day?”

As it happened, the trains were fine—well, as fine as they ever are—but I’d forgotten how far across town Maria lived from the station. And that she lived on a hill. A steep one.

I arrived out of breath, but incredibly glad to see my baby sitting there looking reliable at the
kerb
. I ran over and gave him a hug, then looked up as Maria’s door opened and I saw her kissing someone goodbye.

The Aussie surfer girl from the beach café.

Maria was kissing a girl. On the mouth. Properly.

I was glad I was holding onto Ted, or I might have passed out. As it was, I lost control of all my motor functions and simply stared at them kissing, before the Aussie girl pulled away with a smile and a caress of Maria’s cheek and walked off down the road.

Maria, smiling, made to close the door, and then she saw me.

For a second we stared at each other, both dumbstruck, and then Maria gave a weak smile.

“Sophie! I didn’t expect you for, um, a while…the trains…I thought they were delayed…”

“Mine wasn’t,” I said, pointlessly.

“Ah.”

A long heartbeat.

“Do you want to come in?” Maria asked. “Have a drink?”

Was it too early for vodka?

I nodded and walked into her house. It’s a nice place, far too big for one person, bought when she had a lot more money.

“What are you going to do?” I asked irrelevantly. “About a job. Karen said she’d been speaking to MI6…”

“Yeah. I might see if the Navy wants me back,” Maria said, going into the kitchen and filling up the kettle. It was shaking. Her hands were shaking.

“Maria—”

She almost dropped the kettle in the sink. “Sophie, I—it’s not what it looks like.”

“You were kissing a girl.”

“Well, okay, that’s what it looked like, but I…I mean…I’m not…”

This must be pretty tough for someone who used to be in the forces. I’d had the feeling even someone as feminine as Maria would get called a dyke for doing something so tough.

“I won’t mind if you are,” I said, wondering if this was true or not. I’d never really known a gay woman before. Harvey’s brother Xander was gay, but I’d never seen him with a man. I’d never actually seen same-sex kissing before.

“But I’m not,” Maria said. “I really don't think I am. I don’t feel gay.”

Wow. She said it.

“But you’re with—what is her name?”

“Carly.”

“Carly. And she’s a girl. Unless she’s got a hell of a plastic surgeon.”

“No, she’s definitely a girl,” Maria smiled, and from the way she said it, I knew she
knew
. “But I don’t… Can’t you be in love with a girl and not be gay? I don’t like
all
women. I mean, Sophie, you’re gorgeous, but I don’t fancy you. And I still think Brad Pitt is incredibly sexy. I don’t feel gay,” she repeated, looking confused. “I just love Carly.”

“Already?” I asked. “I mean—it’s just you’ve only known her a week… When did she come up here?”

“Friday,” Maria said sheepishly. “But listen, you can fall in love in a week. Look at Romeo and Juliet. Look at you and Luke.”

“I am not in love with Luke.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “Sure, and he’s not nuts for you, either.”

“This is off topic,” I said, trying not to think about it. “I—”

And then my phone rang.

“Answer it,” Maria said “Could be important. Could be Luke…”

I glared at her and she laughed, setting the kettle to boil, looking easier now she’d said something to someone. I guess it must have been eating at her a bit.

I took my phone out of my bag and checked the display. Harvey.

“I need a big favour,” he said as soon as I answered it.

“I am not having an eight-year-old staying at my house. Sorry, Harvey.”

“How about picking her up from the airport?”

I stalled. “Why can’t you?”

“Because I’m stuck on the fucking M11.” Wow. He must be pissed off if he was swearing. Luke and Maria and I pepper all our sentences with words that would make a vicar blush, but Harvey never says anything more violent than “darn”. “I had to go and see someone in London and I figured I’d be back… Should have taken the bloody train.”

“Train’s even worse than the road on Sunday,” I said absently. “Listen, Harvey, what time is she due in?”

“Five minutes ago.”

“Ah.”

“It’s the AC575 from Amsterdam—”

AC575? That was an Ace call sign. “Amsterdam?”

“Yeah, some cheap deal Shireen worked out…”

“Wait, if it’s an Ace flight I can get someone to meet her. Harvey. Read your mobile number out to me…”

I called up the check-in office and got Tem. Lovely Tem, my favourite supervisor.

“Babe!” he said happily. “What’s this in aid of? You coming back to work for us?”

Ha ha. “You wish,” I said.

“I do, actually. Place seems very…short without you.”

“Oh, ta. Just for that you can do me a favour.”

“Anything, darling.”

I got him to call through to the gate where the 575 was disembarking and get one of the girls to find a little girl answering to Harvey’s description—eight years old, black hair, big dark eyes, most likely carrying a Britney Spears rucksack—take her to a payphone and get her to call her dad.

Meanwhile I hauled ass up to the airport, tried to park in the staff car park then realised Karen had already blocked my swipe card. Swearing, I reversed out, nearly hitting a yellow Punto, and floored Ted (this is not a high speed) up to the short stay car park. Racing up to Arrivals, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. It was Harvey.

“I’m still about ten miles away,” he said, “but I spoke to her.”

“Good.”

“She’s expecting you. Can you hold up something with her name on it?”

I guessed this was as much of a fantasy for Rachel as a practicality. I’d always wanted to come out of the baggage hall and find someone (preferably uniformed) waiting for me with a sign that had my name on it.

Of course, in my profession, I’d probably have had to body search them. But then in my fantasy, they were always lovely young men.

Maybe a strip search, then.

I grabbed my notebook and in big letters wrote “RACHEL”. I hoped it was spelled right and she didn’t have some daft Yank spelling I didn’t know about. I’d also forgotten to ask Harvey for her surname: I’d no idea at all if he’d been married to Rachel’s mother or not.

And then I saw her, a little girl with a big suitcase, and for all I can’t stand children I have to say I fell a little bit in love with Rachel. She was the most beautiful child I’d ever seen. Her hair was long and black and shiny, her skin the colour of milky coffee, her eyes huge and dark. She was wearing jeans and a pink jacket and she looked like one of those little girls you see in clothing magazines. Not much like Harvey. I mean, he was cute, but a total WASP. Little Rachel had a big Latina thing going on. She was gorgeous.