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

didn’t know where I was supposed to be going.
    I felt like crying. I didn’t know where I was and I didn’t know where I was going, and even if I got there I didn’t know what I’d do.
    And then I looked around, and there was Luke, rolling his eyes and asking what I’d got myself into now.
    “They said you were gone,” he explained, coming closer, warm and solid and wonderful. “I came to find you.”
    “I was lost,” I said, feeling helpless.
    “I found you.” He smiled at me reassuringly, and I believed him. “I’ll always find you.”
    He put his arm around me as we walked, a companionable gesture that made me want to snuggle closer. He felt safe, secure.
    “How do you know where we’re going?” I asked.
    “What makes you think I do?”
    “You seem so sure.”
    “I’m working it out.”
    We walked a bit farther. The streets all looked the same—leafy, pleasant, a bit blurry. It was like walking into a blue screen.
    “I’m sorry,” I said.
    “What for?”
    “Causing so much trouble.”
    “You’re not trouble.”
    “Got lost, didn’t I?”
    Luke’s hand rubbed my shoulder, and it tingled. I had a feeling that meant something, but I wasn’t sure what. Everything felt sort of fuzzy.
    “You weren’t really lost,” he said. “I found you.”
    He kept saying that. He found me. But how? And where were we going?
    “I’m causing so much trouble,” I said.
    “No. You’re doing fine.”
    “Where are we even going?” I tried to remember but it felt like my head was full of pudding.
    “You don’t know?”
    “I…”
    “I thought you knew.” Luke looked at me in surprise. “You’re leading the way.”
    “No, I…”
    “I’m walking with you, Sophie. You know where you’re going.”
    I stopped and looked up at him. “Luke, will you kiss me?”
    He smiled and stroked my face. My cheek tingled, just the way my shoulder had when he’d touched it there. “I already have.”
    “Kiss me again. I don’t remember.”
    Luke sighed, a soft sound, and I closed my eyes. But when I opened them, he wasn’t there and I was alone again.
    For a second I was lost, frightened again. What was I doing? Where was I going?
    Why wasn’t he there to show me?
    I looked up the street, looked down it. I didn’t know which way we’d even come. But I wasn’t going to get anywhere just standing here.
    I turned left and started walking. Surely I’d end up somewhere.
    I didn’t feel so lost any more.
     
    I woke in a strange place, comfortable and white, and for a second was truly frightened. I’d died. I’d been shot—it was like in Ghost , where Patrick Swayze runs down the road and doesn’t realise his body has been left behind. I had never had sex with Luke. I’d not been to the hospital or anything. That’s why I was in this marvellous white cocoon, with a high, dark-beamed ceiling…
    Heaven is a loft apartment?
    I managed to move my head to the accompaniment of severe pain from the unlikeliest of sources. I was in a big white bed between high-thread-count sheets. There were pieces of dark oak furniture around the pale walls. A door. A window with heavy linen curtains drawn.
    Heaven had good taste. Stark, but not bad.
    I tried to sit up and immediately realised this was not a good idea. I felt like a building had fallen down on me.
    And then I remembered that it had.
    The Nokia was charging up on the night stand, next to my little evening bag. There was a note propped by the phone, addressed to me.
    I used up most of my strength stretching over to get it, and lay there for a while, exhausted, aching. Then I managed to roll back on my back, and unfolded the sheet of paper.
    Sophie, These are your painkillers. I looked over and realised they’d been behind the note. Take two every four hours and no more or you’ll pass out. Didn’t seem like such a bad idea to me. Take a shower but don’t get the dressing wet. What dressing? Oh, yes, the dreadful pain in my shoulder. Stitches or something. Great. Don’t go outside, I really don’t think it’s safe for you. Rest and sleep. Drink some water. Make yourself at home, I’ll be back this afternoon. There’s a video for you on the coffee table. Call me if you need anything. Luke.
    That was it. Not love Luke , not dear Sophie . No kisses.
    Had I imagined the sex? No. I couldn’t have.
    No power on heaven or earth could have imagined that sex. Oh, boy. I licked my dry lips. I’d be carrying the memory of that to my grave. I frowned.