Page 17
Story: Play Our Song
“It’s alright,” said Tilly. “You’re not going to prison or anything. Here.” She took out her book and scrawled the information on the ticket. “Take this, pay it, and you’ll hear no more about it. Just make sure to put a reflector on that back seat post or wheel arch before I see you riding around town again.”
“Right, miss. Yes, miss,” said the boy. He snatched the ticket and hopped onto his bike before Tilly could stop him.
Tilly shook her head. She hoped the kid would learn a lesson.
She continued walking, keeping her eye out at all times for any sign of crime, but also any sign of Sophie. Every time that she thought about her, she got a warm feeling in her stomach and a smile appeared magically on her face.
Okay, so there was some gray area here. Tilly had stayed awake far later than she should have thinking about it. It wasn’tideal for police officers to have a relationship in the area they patrolled. In fact, as a general rule, officers were posted away from areas that they’d grown up in, just to avoid having anyone’s loyalties tested.
But she hadn’t grown up here, and, more importantly, she wasn’t planning on staying here. This was a few months out of her life before she moved on to bigger and better things. If she happened to meet the love of her life whilst she was here, well, that was alright, wasn’t it?
Love of her life. Jesus. Not that she was overthinking things in any way whatsoever. She had the secret smile again. Alright, maybe she was blowing things slightly out of proportion. But she liked Sophie. Liked the look of her, liked her smile, liked the way she smiled, liked how she sounded. There was a lot to like.
Maybe, said the reasonable voice in her head, you’ll hate her once you actually talk to her as opposed to singing at her.
Fair point. But she wouldn’t know until she tried, would she?
She bit her lip. Friday wasn’t that far away. Maybe she should make the first move, ask her for a drink or something?
Her phone vibrated in her pocket, reminding her of the time. She turned on her heel and walked back toward the police station.
Yes, that’s what she’d do. She’d make the first move. Ask Sophie for a drink. That way, they could really tell what was what.
She was feeling quite good about herself when she walked into the station.
“Afternoon,” she said to Max, who was standing behind the wooden counter.
“Did you just write Jamie Lunsdon a ticket for not having a rear reflector on his bike?” Max asked.
Tilly nodded. “It scared him a bit, but I don’t think he’ll do it again.” She hesitated. “I did tell him he wasn’t going to prison, though.”
Max sighed. “Tea?”
“If there’s some going.”
“Right, then you’d better come around here and have a seat. I’ll get the tea then you and I need to have a chat,” Max said.
Tilly felt her stomach contract. “Have I done something wrong?”
Max sighed again. “No, no, you really haven’t. Maybe that’s sort of the problem. Have a seat. Let me get the tea in.”
He disappeared back to the small kitchen, and Tilly could hear him making the tea. She didn’t like the idea of needing a talking to, but then he said that she’d done nothing wrong, so whatever it was, it couldn’t be that bad.
As she was waiting, the station door opened. An elderly woman crept in.
“Can I help you?” Tilly asked.
“They’ve been in again,” said the woman, tearfully.
“Who?” asked Tilly.
“The burglars. They’ve been in again.” The woman sniffed and Tilly came around the counter.
“You’ve been burgled?”
“Yes,” said the woman. “It’s the third time today.”
Tilly’s senses prickled. She put an arm around the woman’s shoulders and escorted her to one of the plastic seats. “Well, that won’t do at all,” she said comfortingly. “But you’ve come to the right place. Can you tell me where you live?”
Table of Contents
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- Page 17 (Reading here)
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