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“Right,” Gio said. “It’s alright. I’ve got it this time.”

Just as he said that, a splash of oil burst into flame and Sophie got up to get the kitchen fire blanket just in case she needed it. She’d worry about choir later, once she hadn’t burned to death.

Chapter Thirteen

Tilly showed up thirty minutes early, as requested. Well, twenty-nine minutes, to be precise. She’d just been walking toward the village hall when she’d seen a car parked on double yellow lines. The lines were protecting a fire exit, so she wasn’t prepared to play around.

She’d spent a couple of minutes writing a ticket and then dealing with an irate takeout delivery person, so she had to run into the hall and arrived one minute late and sweating.

Sophie was already there.

Tilly had to catch her breath before she could even look at her properly. For god’s sake, she told herself, she’s an attractive woman. Get over it, you can’t go into cardiac arrest every time you see someone pretty.

An attractive woman that wasn’t interested.

She finally managed to take a full breath.

“Not dying then?” Billy asked from behind the piano.

“Not quite,” said Tilly.

“Right,” Billy sniffed. “Enough with the mystery, then. You two are good. I liked what you did last rehearsal, you can buckle down and learn things, you can read music.”

“Actually, I can’t,” Sophie said.

Billy waved a hand. “One of you can, that’s enough. So here’s what I need. Ditch that last solo. I want a new one.”

“You… what?” asked Sophie.

“A new solo,” Tilly said, feeling rather pleased. She’d enjoyed the last one, but it had been quite easy. She thrived on a challenge.

“Right. I’d given up hope of including this in the concert, but with you two, I think we might just get away with it.” Billy handed them both a sheet of music. “The Coventry Carol, you know it, I’m sure.” She played a few notes.

“Yes,” Tilly said. “Yes, this looks good.” It was infinitely harder than the last one, longer too.

“I can’t do this,” Sophie said. She was looking ashen.

“Of course you can,” said Billy. “You’ve got a good voice.”

“Yeah, but… but I can’t read the music and it’s long and… And I can’t.”

“The constable over here will help, won’t you?” Billy said.

Tilly was about to agree, then something stopped her. Did she really want to do this? It would mean spending time with Sophie outside of regular rehearsals. It would mean spending time away from her investigation. Could she spare that time? Did she want to be around someone so uninterested in her?

“Um, I don’t know. If Sophie can’t do it, then…”

“You don’t think I can either?” Sophie wailed.

“I didn’t say that,” said Tilly, though she had said exactly that. “I meant if you think you can’t do it, then maybe we shouldn’t.”

“Claptrap,” Billy barked. “Here, we’ve got time. Let’s do the first line together, all three of us. Get a feel for it before you decide. Tilly, this is your part.” She played a simple ten-notemelody. “And Sophie, this is yours, same thing, just a tad lower.” She played again. “You know the tune. It should start off simple enough.”

Tilly took a breath, then nodded. “Ready.”

Billy gave them both a starting note.

A moment later the beautiful, lulling first line of the carol rang through the empty hall. It was too short, and so lovely that it hung in the air over them. When Tilly turned to Sophie, she saw that she looked like she was in shock.