No Ex Before Marriage by Portia MacIntosh

Author:Portia MacIntosh [MacIntosh, Portia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books

21

There are two people who do the housekeeping in the family wing of the castle: Sophie and Sophia. Sophie is a fifty-something English woman. Sophia is a twenty-something Italian. Sonny refers to them as the Sophs, and never seems to quite get a handle on which one is which.

We’re currently standing in one of the old stone corridors (but aren’t they all) where Sophia is pushing a trolley stacked with toiletries. I swear, these are nicer than the ones we have in our bathroom.

‘I was just looking for you, babe,’ Sonny tells her.

‘Do you want my hands?’ she replies.

She’s obviously just muddling up a fairly common phrase, but Sonny’s eyes light up.

‘Mate, do I,’ he says. He turns to me, to give me a geezer nudge, but he can tell from the look on my face that I’m not having any of it.

I’m not here to help him Me Too a maid, I’m here to help him find the missing wedding jewellery – I’m barely here to do that, I’m just going along with Kat’s stupid lie.

Sophia doesn’t get his joke, and for that I’m grateful.

‘Some jewellery has gone missing from the family room,’ he finally says.

It sounds like the family room is some sort of shared space between Sonny and Cherry’s room and Zac and Lilac’s.

‘Oh, no,’ Sophia says. ‘I know nothing about that. I clean bathrooms and kitchens; I don’t clean rooms.’

‘What do you reckon?’ Sonny asks me. ‘Is she telling the truth?’

Sophia looks at me, anxiously waiting to see if I clear her name.

Honestly, how the hell should I know? Neither Daniel Craig as James Bond nor as Benoit Blanc in Knives Out could figure this one out from such limited information, surely?

Honestly, I just feel so deeply uncomfortable with this, I just want it to end.

‘She doesn’t seem like she’s lying to me,’ I reply. ‘Her micro-expressions aren’t indicative of lying.’

A little something I picked up from Lie to Me. Isn’t it amazing, how much you can learn from just watching TV?

‘Okay, you can go, for now,’ Sonny tells her. ‘But I’m watching you.’

Sophia frowns.

‘Where’s the other one?’ he asks her. I cringe.

‘Sophie?’ she replies. ‘She’s in your bed.’

‘Chance would be a fine thing,’ Sonny says under his breath. ‘Come on, you.’

He nods for me to follow him. This is like the world’s worst buddy cop movie – incidentally, something Sonny would probably star in.

When we arrive in Sonny’s bedroom, he suddenly remembers that Sophie is the one closer to his age. He pulls a face, like he regrets his joke about wanting her in his bed.

‘Oi,’ he calls out. ‘We need a word with you.’

‘What on earth is the matter, Mr Strong?’ she replies, putting down the pillowcase she’s currently stuffing, hurrying around the bed to greet us.

Sophie seems both dutiful and polite – hardly a jewel thief.

‘Someone has stolen some jewellery from the family room, and we think it’s you,’ he says plainly.

My eyebrows shoot up to the turrets.

‘Well, I’ve never been so offended in my life,’ she says.

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