Sophie

 

Later that evening, Sophie finally made it out of the shop in time to run home for a shower before meeting the girls at Clancy’s Bar.

 

After blow-drying her long honey-coloured hair she automatically went to pull it up into a ponytail but hesitated in front of the mirror. She ran her fingers through the ends and made a snap decision to wear it down. It was silky and fell in glossy waves down past her shoulders. She looked at the pair of jeans and black T-shirt on the bed and frowned. Tonight, she’d have to make an effort. It had been several weeks since they’d been able to meet up like this, what with Lydia’s study and Kristy’s late nights at the office, not to mention all of Sophie’s shop repairs. Life had been so busy for all of them. This was a special night. Still in her bathrobe, Sophie walked to her wardrobe; a place she rarely spent much time. Fashion never meant much to her – the simpler, the better. She sighed and flicked through the hangers. There was a little black dress that fit her like a glove, but that was a bit too Christmas party/funeral for a night out on the town. She pulled out a pair of skinny jeans, which was a start. She chucked her only pair of high-heeled boots towards the foot of the bed and began analyzing her hangers of shirts despairingly.

 

There was a knock on the door. Before waiting for an answer, Lydia stuck her head around the door. “What you wearing tonight?” she asked brightly.

 

“God knows,” Sophie replied flatly, still staring into the sea of nondescript garments.

 

“Here,” Lydia said, throwing a floaty royal blue top towards her. Sophie caught it with a laugh.

 

“It’s gorgeous, but it’s a bit tight for me,” Lydia said. “It’ll be perfect on you. And a bright color for a change!”

 

Sophie laughed. “Thanks. I’ll try it on.”

 

Lydia went back to her own frantic fashion session in her room, with funk music blaring and the hair dryer being switched on and off at short intervals as she created some kind of elaborate style. It was a different style every time with Lydia. Sophie admired that. She just couldn’t be bothered.

 

She held up the thin, off the shoulder top and smiled. This could work. Not too girly, but showing a bit of skin and pulled in at the waist. After wearing a coverall all week, it felt good to remember she had curves where they were supposed to be.

 

The top fitted like a dream and as she pulled on her heels and stood up straight, she liked what she saw. Her makeup was as scant as possible – a lick of lipstick and a quick swish of mascara would do. She was ready a whole thirty minutes before Lydia and sank a beer while watching a sitcom as she waited.

 

Eventually, when Lydia burst out of her room, arms spread triumphantly and wrapped in neon pink fabric as if she was a prize Sophie had won in a contest, they were ready to head out.

 

At Clancy’s they met Kristy, a cool, tall brunette, who looked good in anything she threw on – which tonight was a short black shirt dress and tan leather high wedge sandals – and the night was underway.

 

After the first cocktail, Lydia and Kristy were busy eyeballing a good-looking guy at the bar and laughing. All Sophie could think about was Zeke Draper... and the bomb.

 

“What’s up with you, Sophie?” Lydia asked, passing her a mojito. “Come on, lighten up.”

 

Sophie smiled and took the drink. “I’m fine. I just can’t stop thinking about a guy that came into the garage today.”

 

Lydia and Kristy nudged each other excitedly. “Oooh. Spill all. Was he hot?”

 

Sophie shook her head. She shouldn’t have said anything. She’d never hear the end of this now. And it suddenly dawned on her that she really shouldn’t say anything about the bomb. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her friends, just that if word spread, things could get messy. It was safer to keep that news inside the shop walls for now. At least until they got the information they needed.

 

“Well?” Lydia was still waiting for an answer. “You like this guy, don’t you? It’s about time. It’s been ages since you and that creepy ex-boyfriend split up. You need some lovin’ girl.”

 

Sophie rolled her eyes. Lydia was referring to Greg – the creep who ditched her for someone else and now wanted her back. He kept texting, calling and turning up at the shop, begging her to take him back. Never gonna happen.

 

“I suppose this guy that came in today was cute... if you like that sort of thing,” she said.

 

Lydia’s eyes widened with joy. “What sort of thing? Details. Come on.”

 

Sophie sighed. “Tall, muscly, dark hair, biker...”

 

Kristy grinned. “If you don’t want him, I’ll have him – he sounds gorgeous. But something tells me you do.”

 

Sophie shook her head. “No, I don’t. I don’t have time for a guy anyway, even if I did like him. And besides, he probably wouldn’t like me. I’m too much of a petrol head for most guys.”

 

Lydia downed her drink. “I think most guys would love a mechanic girlfriend. Seriously. Anyway, let’s dance. Are you coming?”

 

Sophie declined and sat back in her chair, sipping her mojito, while the other two wove their way into the mass of moving bodies on the dance floor. On an ordinary night, she would have joined them, but this was no ordinary night. Since the discovery in that exhaust earlier that day, everything felt different. She had a sense of urgency, like everything she did was meaningless and time-wasting until the would-be bomber was caught.