“Do you need another pillow?” Vina had two large decorative cushions in her arms. “Maybe to prop up your leg?”
“You’ve brought me twenty. How many do you think I need?” Motts had settled on the couch facing the window out to the garden. “Did you raid Ikea? Do we have one?”
“As much as I adore you, I’m not driving to Exeter for pillows. Amma has an unhealthy obsession with cushions. I borrowed them.” Vina squashed them beside her. “Are you sure you don’t need anything?”
“Vina.”
She shot across the living room to sit beside Motts, wrapping her arms gently around her. “Do you know how bloody terrifying it was seeing you on the ground? Your scooter in pieces. Blood on your face. I didn’t know how badly you’d been hurt.”
“I’m okay.”
And she was. The doctors had released her from the hospital within a few hours. Her only injuries were scrapes and bruises. She knew her body would be sore for several days.
It could’ve been so much worse, though.
“Hughie said they found the vehicle abandoned down the street. It was stolen.” Vina returned to her chair. “They didn’t get a glimpse of the driver’s face. They’re trying to see if they find fingerprints.”
“Hughie told you all of that?” Motts was surprised the constable had been so forthcoming.
“Well, told is a strong word. I might’ve overheard a conversation while he was in line at the coffee shop.” Vina preened. “I am a genius.”
“Sneaky.”
“A sneaky genius.” She stretched her arm out to grab her tablet on the coffee table. “Nish said your parents are coming to visit.”
“I tried to block out the memory of their call.” Motts had mixed feelings about her parents’ imminent arrival. She loved them but having her space to herself had been fantastic. It showed her how stifling life in London had become. “Not sure why they’re coming. I’m fine.”
“Someone tried to run you over, Motts. They weren’t messing around.” Vina set her tablet down on her lap. “Your parents love you. Of course, they’re going to make the trip from London to see you’re okay. A phone call isn’t the same.”
“I could Skype.”
“Video calls aren’t the same as in person. It’s a neurotypical thing, Mottsy. We need to see with our own eyes when we’re worried about someone we love.” Vina had often over the years of their friendship and dating proved to be a brilliant non-autistic translator when Motts needed. “Amma and Nish gave me a few days off from the shop. I’ll play buffer for you.”
Motts didn’t know how to respond, so she went with the first thought in her mind. “Can you make tea?”
With a wry chuckle, Vina headed into the kitchen. Motts focused on petting Cactus and watching the birds in the garden. She never knew how to respond to the kindness of other people.
It was almost as bad as compliments. Other people seemed to manage gracefully. Motts always felt so incredibly awkward in comparison.
“Motts? Why is there a bowl of pineapple in your fridge? You never eat pineapple.” Vina brought the dish into the living room. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you try it.”
“Detective Inspector Herceg sent me a fruit basket. All pineapple.” Motts had been stunned by the delivery. Hughie had brought it to her with a note from the inspector. “I think it was a joke?”
“I’m sorry. Hold on. I need a moment to process the bizarre turn of this conversation.” Vina sat down on the arm of the sofa. “Detective Inspector Tall, Handsome, and Brooding sent you a bowl of pineapple. You. Sent you pineapple.”
“Are you asking for clarification or mocking my pineapple?”
“He sent pineapple to Pineapple.” Vina clutched the bowl in her arms. “He has a sense of humour. Who knew?”
“Do you want the fruit?”
“And deprive you of your namesake?” She waved the bowl under Motts’s nose. “Did you send a thank-you email?”
“Text.” Motts hadn’t known how to respond to the surprise gift. She figured a short “thanks” worked well enough. “I said thank you.”
“That’s all?” Vina shook her head dramatically. “I’ve got to work on your flirting.”
“I don’t want to flirt.”
“You’re hopeless.”
“Says my ex-girlfriend.” Motts blocked the bowl when Vina waved it at her a second time. “The kettle is whistling.”
“Saved by the boiling water.” She went back to the kitchen.
Despite the incessant teasing, Motts was grateful to have Vina in her life. She didn’t know anyone else who understood her so well. They hadn’t worked as a couple, but at least it hadn’t ruined their friendship.
She still remembered the uncomfortably awful break-up conversation. They’d realised over time that neither of their needs were being met. Vina wanted a sexual relationship that Motts, as someone who was asexual, couldn’t provide.
They’d remained the best of friends. Motts had a feeling her life would be quite dull without the vibrant and extroverted Vina. Nish, thankfully, played a calm counterpart to his sister.
“Tea.” Vina appeared beside her, breaking Motts out of her thoughts. “I couldn’t find the Jaffa Cakes. Did you hide them?”
“If I don’t, my dad will eat all of them when they arrive.” Motts hated the impending intrusion into her space. She’d only just made the cottage home, and her parents tended to take over like an invasive vine in a flower garden. I need a distraction before I worry myself into an anxiety attack. “Did Hughie have any other information about the driver?”
“Nope. But, I have gossip for you.” Vina retreated to the sofa across from Motts. She curled up with her legs crossed and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. “My Amma is a genius who could get a stone to give up its secrets. She chatted with Rose Walters when she came to pick up bread. Apparently, you were right. Rhona had been seeing Danny in secret. They’d kept their relationship quiet because Danny had a jealous ex-girlfriend.”
“Did he?” Motts wondered how jealous the former girlfriend had been. “Was she actually jealous? Or was he making claims to inflate his ego?”
“Amma didn’t find out. She thought Rose was getting suspicious about her questions.” Vina tapped the side of her mug. “Nish remembers Danny in secondary school. He dated several girls. But I remember him being single for a while when we came back from university. I don’t think he had a jealous ex.”
“Okay?”
“But Rhona had an overprotective brother. And Dad remembered when their father died and the business went to her and Innis. They fought a lot, because she didn’t want to run the fish and chip shop.” Vina grabbed her phone and glanced at it. “Nish wants to know if we’re hungry. He’s making a lamb biryani pizza.”
“Tell him I’ll trade him pineapple for a few slices.”
“He might not understand that text.” She grinned.
“Vina.”
“Do you honestly want me to text him that we’ll trade pineapple for pizza. Your name is Pineapple.” Vina’s shoulders shook while she laughed. “I’ll stick with a simple yes and hurry the hell up.”
Over a dinner of pizza and beer, the trio considered the accident and their casual investigation. The twins stayed into the evening. Motts appreciated their support when her parents arrived after ten o’clock.
Thankfully for everyone involved, her parents were tired enough not to stay up late. Motts left them to the master bedroom. She stayed in the guest room with Cactus for company.
The following morning, Motts tried not to lose her mind. Her mum had insisted on making breakfast despite Motts and her dad only eating toast. Cactus had appreciated the sausage.
“I might hide in the shed.” Motts had Cactus in his sun-shirt on a leash. They were making a circuit in the garden to avoid her parents for at least a few minutes. “I’m glad we have one. It gives us somewhere to stay until they go home.”
Meow.
“Exactly. She hasn’t been here a day, and my fridge is completely rearranged. Illogically rearranged. What if I need my butter on the middle shelf? Not her kitchen.” She rubbed her nose against his downy fuzz. “Why does it matter?”
Meow.
“Poppet?” Her dad stood nearby with a mug in his hands. “Your mum is driving out to see your auntie Lily in Looe. Want to go? Think they’re going shopping.”
“No.”
“Thought so. She already left.” He winked at her. “Why don’t we pop down to the shops ourselves? Grab a coffee and something a little sweeter than the toast we had for breakfast. You can tell me all about your new young man.”
“What new young man?” Motts didn’t move from her post, allowing Cactus to meander around a little longer. “No new young man. No man. Well, there are men. I don’t have one.”
“New woman?”
“No new people.” She picked Cactus up to carry him inside. “Why?”
“Your mum had a call with your auntie Lily. And she thought you’d become friendly with some detective inspector.” Her dad followed her into the cottage. “Poppet?”
Setting Cactus onto his favourite spot on the couch, Motts made sure to check on Moss and feed both of them. She cleaned up the dishes while her dad waited patiently for her to respond. And she had no intention of doing so.
Why is everyone always so obsessed with whether I’m dating someone?
She finished the last of the dishes and ran out of things to delay the rest of the conversation. “Are we walking? Not sure you’d fit on my bicycle, and I haven’t replaced my scooter.”
Nish and Hughie had kindly gathered up all the parts of her poor Vespa. There hadn’t been much of a point. The local mechanic had taken all of a second to declare it unfixable.
She didn’t want to get a new one. The old one had been perfect. She’d been used to driving it, and salespeople intimidated her.
“We’ll find you a new one,” he promised. “Let’s walk. The air and exercise will be good for us. Are you recovered enough?”
“Yes.” Motts grabbed her cardigan from the coatrack by the door. “I’m okay. The bruises make everything seem more dramatic.”
Her dad shook his head. “When you were six, you broke your wrist. You kept insisting nothing hurt. A broken wrist and it didn’t hurt. You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word for how injured you were after a car tried to kill you.”
Well, when he puts it like that.
“I’m okay to walk into the village.” Motts looped her arm around her dad’s. She leaned her head against his arm. “I’m glad you came to visit.”
“But wish I’d left your mum at home?”
“I love Mum,” Motts insisted.
“She means well, poppet. It’s not always easy to see your child all grown up and out on their own.” He kissed the top of her head. “Give her time to adjust.”
“I’m almost forty.” Motts didn’t understand why her mum kept trying to treat her like a child. “She wasn’t this bad in London.”
“You didn’t notice it in London.” He patted her hand gently. “She’ll come around. Don’t worry.”