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Her dad would be there. He was well-versed in babies. And they were supposed to be at the house for the house-warming party in an hour or so anyway. That part was a secret. Even Max didn’t know about it. It had been her idea, and she was proud of it. A welcome home present for Max and Mila, and a chance to christen the new part of their house.

She bundled Art back into his pram, picked up everything that had come with him, and got out of the house. Babies seemed to come with a lot of accessories, she hoped that she hadn’t forgotten anything.

???

Tilly looked from the data on her in-car computer to the man handcuffed by the side of the car to the clock on the dashboard. Damn it all. She hadn’t intended for this to happen. He’d been speeding. It should have been a ticket and a stern talking to, and that was it.

How was she supposed to know that he had an outstanding warrant? She gritted her teeth as she called it in.

“Back up on its way,” growled the dispatcher.

Tilly eyed the clock again. She could still make it on time if she left in the next ten minutes.

???

“Aw, look at him,” Gio said, peering into the pram. “He looks like Winston Churchill.”

“All babies look like Churchill,” said their father.

Art took this personally and started to grumble and then cry. Sophie looked at her father in desperation.

“Here we go,” Paul said, lifting the boy up and cradling him over his shoulder. Art stopped crying immediately. “See? Easy.”

Sophie sighed. Everyone seemed to think that everything was easy nowadays. She wasn’t so sure. For a start, as of next week, she’d be the official owner of the garage. “What about that mold in the toilet?” she asked, remembering that she’d meant to ask about it the day before and forgotten.

Her dad rolled his eyes. “Use some mold cleaner to clean it up. Easy.”

There was that word again.

“Hello, dear,” Sylv said, bustling through into the new extension. “We’re almost all set up here. People will startarriving soon and then we’ll just be waiting for the guests of honor.”

“Right, Tilly’s on that,” said Sophie, checking her watch. Or at least she hoped Tilly was.

???

Tilly breathed out through her nose and in through her mouth, trying to calm herself down as she checked the rear-view mirror. No sign of another police car. There was a disgruntled-looking man in her back seat, but he was safely cuffed.

A lot safer than she’d be when Sophie found out that there was no chance of her making that plane now. She groaned out loud.

“What’s wrong?”

She eyed the mirror again. “Nothing for you to concern yourself with.”

He pulled a face. “No, go on, we’ve got to sit here, anyway. What’s wrong? You look like you’ve sat on a pile of thorns.”

“Charming,” said Tilly. “If you must know, I was supposed to pick someone up at the airport and I’m going to be late.”

He thought about this for a second. “You could always let me go,” he suggested.

“Ha ha. Not going to happen.”

“Be like that then. Anyway, whoever it is will wait for you,” he said.

“Yeah, but my girlfriend will kill me. She’s always worried that I put the job first,” Tilly said, without really thinking about who she was speaking to.

The man in the back seat shrugged. “Then arrange for someone else to do the pickup from the airport. I’m marriedmyself. You just have to make sure that your responsibilities are taken care of, even if it’s someone else doing them.”

She looked into the rear-view again. Huh. That made sense. That way, she could do her job and Sophie would still be happy. She grinned. “Cheers.”