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

drank some. You hate lager.”
    I said nothing, but my face felt tight and my nostrils flared.
    “Come on, Sophie, we have to go.”
    “Right now?”
    “Yes. Right now.”
    “What about Sven?”
    “Leave him a note. Isn’t that your style?”
    I nearly slapped him again for that. “Two things, Luke. Fuck. Off.”
    “You’re funny.”
    “I’ve hardly slept in two days. I had to break out of your flat two days in a row, and I got another finger yesterday. There’s probably another one on its way right now. I have a bruise on my face and a big headache—” to my horror I felt my eyes start to sting, “—so just piss off and stop bloody following me.”
    Unfortunately at that moment the song ended and Tom stopped singing and everyone heard the last bit I said. I glared somewhat tearfully at Luke.
    “I think we should leave,” he said quietly, and I nodded.
    “Just let me say goodbye to Sven.”
    Luke looked at his watch. “How long has he been gone?”
    “Since you came over.”
    “Too long.”
    “Maybe there’s a queue.”
    Luke gave me a look.
    “Maybe he’s ill.”
    “We can only hope.”
    “Do you want me to slap you again?”
    “That’s such a girlie thing to do.”
    “I am a girl!”
    “Can we just go?”
    I folded my arms. “No.”
    “I could carry you out of here.”
    “Not unless you want me to beat the snot out of you. I will, you know,” I added when Luke started laughing. “Look, can you just go and see where he is?”
    “You want me to go and tell your boyfriend you’re leaving with me?” Luke put his head on one side. “Okay.”
    “You’re such an arsehole,” I said again.
    “I don’t have to tell him.”
    “You do if you want me to go with you.”
    Luke sauntered off, grinning.
    The band hadn’t started the next song yet and I looked up at the stage to see what was taking so long. Tom was missing. Probably gone for another pint. He said his voice needs lubrication. He’d yet to come up with an excuse for the cigarettes.
    And then Tom was beside me, grabbing my arm. I winced as his fingers dug into a bruise.
    “Why aren’t you singing?”
    “I tried to get your attention earlier but you were all snuggly with your boyfriend.”
    “He’s not my—what did you want?”
    Tom lifted up Sven’s drink. “He put something in this. I saw him drop it in. Like a pill or something.”
    “But that’s his drink…”
    “No,” Tom grinned, and picked up my untouched pint, “this is his drink. I switched them when he wasn’t looking.”
    I stared.
    “Is he on drugs or something?” Tom asked.
    “Sven? No, no, he’s…he’s Norwegian…” I said vaguely. “Just a sec.” I needed to find Luke. “Keep an eye on these for me. Don’t switch them or drink anything.”
    “I’m not stupid,” Tom said, fiddling with his lip ring.
    I dashed over to the toilets and saw Luke coming out of the gents.
    “Where is he? Where is the little—”
    “He’s in there.” Luke caught my arm before I could rush in. “He’s out cold.”
    I stopped in my tracks like a cartoon character. “He’s what?”
    “Passed out on the floor. In a puddle of vomit.” Luke shook his head happily. “It seems there is a God. How much did he have to drink?”
    I stared at him. “That was meant for me,” I managed.
    “What was?”
    “The vomiting and the passing out. Tom saw him put something in my drink.”
    “Tom?”
    I grabbed his arm and pulled him back to my table. Tom was sitting there, looking bored.
    “The things I do for you, Soph,” he said.
    “This is the first thing you’ve ever done for me,” I said. “Payback for all those times I’ve picked you up from the pub and kicked your girlfriend out at her brothel. Tom, tell Luke what you saw.”
    “Saw?”
    “What Sven did.”
    Tom looked Luke up and down. Apparently he approved of him more than Sven, because he said, “I saw him put something in her drink. When she was talking to you. So I switched the drinks. Then I had to go back on stage so I couldn’t tell Soph…”
    “So he drank whatever was meant for her?”
    Tom nodded. “Pretty cool, huh?”
    “Tom, you’re a lifesaver.”
    “What did it do?”
    “He threw up and passed out.”
    “Why not just give you vodka? I remember—”
    “No reminiscences,” I said firmly. “Come and give us a hand.”
    “What?” said Luke and Tom at the same time.
    “To get Sven out of here. Don’t you want to talk to him?” I asked Luke.
    “I’d like to