Soft on Rebellion

Soft on Rebellion - Chapter 3

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She didn't go back to sleep straight away. She just turned the situation over and over in her mind. It was the biggest decision she had ever made on her own, and she wasn't even sure if she should have made it. Had she made things worse? Had she signed her own death warrant?

Now she was being dramatic. Pol always said the more you think about something, the worse it gets. Tessa could understand that now. When she'd been younger, she'd had people to think for her. As she got older, she had people to think with, to guide her and ultimately take responsibility. She wondered if she hadn't left that stage yet, and was punching above her weight.

It was done. Nothing more to be said, or thought about.

She slept.

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She slept all day, and only woke the next morning. Maybe she had come down with something. It was only knocking that woke her. She cringed at the noise and rolled out of bed. She bet it was Pol, coming home from church. But it was soon clear that that wasn't the case. The soft knocking continued, a knock every two second, like clockwork.

Tessa fastened up her shirt buttons and pulled her suspenders up onto her shoulders as she approached the door. She took a breath and opened it.

A man smiled at her. He had light hair and a moustache. Maybe in his fifties?

Behind him, carnage reigned. People were being dragged from their houses through their broken doors, furniture being thrown out of windows. Their neighbour wailed as a vase went flying from their upstairs bedroom and shattered on the pavement.

"Thanks for knocking," she said. "I expect you want some tea, Detective Inspector."

"You know me?" the man said in a broad Irish accent.

"Of course," she said, stepping back to admit him entrance.

She and three policemen followed him into the parlour. She got to it making them tea, trying to stall. She didn't know what they had planned for her but she wasn't sure she'd be able to take four of them in such a small space. She glanced back and saw him turning over the book she was reading in his hands.

"I must say, I admire your bravery," she said.

"Hmm?" he said, placing The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde back on the table.

"Coming here when the boys are out of town, so you don't get your heads staved in."

"Colourful," Campbell said.

"And of course, bringing your lapdogs with you," she said, nodding to the policemen.

She poured the tea and sat on the opposite side of the table.

"What can I do for you?"

"That depends on what you know."

"Oh, I don't get told anything," she took a sip. "I'm decoration more than anything."

"Then why don't you wear a dress?"

"Not my expertise."

She wanted to break his nose and rip off that ridiculous moustache.

Campbell smiled, "See I think you're lying to me. I think you know more than you're letting on."

"About what?"

"The stolen guns."

Tessa blinked. Well, she wasn't expecting him to mention something she actually didn't know about. She didn't know if that made the situation easier or not.