I, Spy? (Sophie Green Mysteries, No. 1) (Sophie Green Mystery)

was still a niggling doubt in the back of my mind. If it was illegal to have a knife in my bag, surely this would be illegal also?
    I had handcuffs. But they were legal, right, because they sold them in Ann Summers. The defence spray—it wasn’t anything damaging, it just sprayed a green foamy stuff on the attacker so he’d be stained for a while. Not very exciting. I also had the rape alarm my mum had got me when I was fifteen and went on a school trip to London. I set it off once by mistake and Norma Jean nearly left home.
    Then there was the Kevlar. But it was huge—I’d tried it on in the privacy of my bathroom where no one could possibly see me, and there was no way I was wearing it undetected. I looked like I was wearing a fat suit.
    So, really, if the finger-sender turned up at my house, I was pretty helpless. I didn’t even have Tammy to defend me.
    I thought about calling Luke and asking him again if I could have a gun, but right now I wasn’t in the mood to see him. This morning I’d been about to have sex with him, and then…
    Then the finger. Then the footage. Then Ana. Then the realisation that I just really couldn’t get involved with someone I had to work with that closely. If it was Sven that’d be different. Loads of people at the airport are going out or sleeping together or even married. There aren’t any anti-fraternisation rules. The hours and the stress generally do a good enough job of killing romance.
    But SO17 consisted of six people, and I had a feeling I was going to be working very closely with all of them. I couldn’t get involved with Luke. I couldn’t.
    I stared at my new phone, at the phone book which listed One, Two, Three, Four and Five as my work contacts, and called Two.
    She answered straight away. “Sophie, hi!”
    “Hey, Maria,” I said, feeling a little uneasy. This woman was awe-inspiring. “Um, am I interrupting you?”
    “I’m painting my nails,” she said. “So, no. Are you all right? I heard about the finger…”
    I wondered how she’d heard about the finger. Did she get bulletins from One or Alexa? Or did Luke call her a lot? After all, they’d been partners before.
    Maybe they were still “partners” now.
    Oh, God. Now I felt sick.
    “Um,” I said eventually, “yeah, I’m fine. I just, I needed to talk to someone and…”
    “And you’ve had enough of Luke for now,” she laughed. “Understandable. He’s a lot to take. Look, you don’t live far, right? You want to come over?”
    Did I? Better than sitting around in my flat, feeling scared. “Sure,” I said, and wrote down directions.
    She lived in town, not far from the shops, and if I’d got it right in my head then it was a road full of very large, old, gorgeous houses.
    I’d got it right.
    Maria’s house was a buttery yellow, maybe Georgian, maybe earlier. Most of the places around had been taken over by smart solicitors and their offices. All the houses had window boxes full of bright flowers. The cars were all expensive.
    I patted Ted’s flank nervously and crossed to Maria’s house, hoping I’d got it right and she wasn’t playing a prank on me.
    She answered the door with a cordless phone clamped between shoulder and ear, foam separators between her toes, and a bright green face.
    She gestured for me to follow her in, saying, “…you know he’s a wanker anyway, though, right? No, he always was. Well, look—no, I have to go, I’ve got company— no , fuck him. No, he has no rights. Put marigold seeds on his lawn. What?” She paused, and laughed. “No, just a friend. No one you know. I’ll—I’ll see you later, ’kay? Bye.”
    She clicked the phone off and gave me a tiny smile, feeling at the green face mask. “Sorry,” she said, “that was my sister, she’s having neighbour problems.”
    “Ah,” I said wisely. I’d lived in my flat for two years and still didn’t know my neighbours’ names.
    “Come on up.” She started up the beautiful staircase. “I have to take this stuff off before it tints me permanently green.”
    Wouldn’t that be a shame?
    No, stop it, Sophie. Maria is nice. She’s been nothing but nice to you. She’s on your side. Just because she’s completely flawless and she’s allowed a gun doesn’t mean you have any license to be nasty to her.
    Dammit.
    She left the bathroom door open as she scrubbed off the face mask. “So, how’re you doing? Settling in okay?”
    I shrugged, looking around the landing, which was as beautiful