Clara doesn't solve crimes.

Clara and I sat in the coffee house, trying to retain our dignity whilst wiping the froth from the cappucinos from our top lips. We always take a window seat because Clara likes to pretend she is judging the dress sense of the outside world.

'That has to be a crime against humanity!' I followed her line of vision to see a woman walking along in a brown leather skirt and burst out laughing. Clara could be brutal when it came to fashion: I didn't dare go against her opinion if we went shopping. It made me laugh to know how carefree her life was: Clara's dad was an actual businessman so they had a pretty big house too. She was an only child and her parents thought she was the eighth wonder of the world. They let her go out all the time, even though her mother was well aware of the fact that she had on more than one occasion made out with multiple guys on the same night. Clara was a bit of a party animal. I was a little more reserved, but Clara assured me that next time we went out she would introduce me to alcohol. Despite me telling her that we were sixteen and it is illegal. I'm just glad I'm not already a cop: I'd hate to have to arrest Clara. She would fight back.

Clara leaned over and stole one of my cookies, then with a mouth half-full of biscuit remembered something she wanted to ask me. 'Oh!' she hurriedly swallowed. 'Dani are you free this evening? Mom and Dad are going to some Gala dinner so I'm thinking movie night.' Her eyes sparkled with the prospect of planning a gathering.

I bit my lip. 'I can't.'

'What? Why?' I shielded myself with my coat jokingly, to protect me from my friend's shrill protests.

'I can't because Dad is away again. Some meeting of the heads of department.' Technically this was not a lie, because Dad was away with all the other heads of department, but it was more about discussing terrorist threats than the spring market. 'He's called in one of his friends to babysit again.' I groaned because I thought I was perfectly capable of looking after myself and the others, but no, Dad insisted. I can see why though: when you think about it, the three people closest to Dad being kidnapped by some infidel or other would not be pretty. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Clara nodded and then her eyes lit up again. 'Is it the British guy again? Can I come round?' I gave her a look but she ignored it. 'What? He's hot.'

'Eww, he's old enough to be your father!' I threw a cushion at her. God forbid if Clara should join the investigative team one day: she'd let a criminal off if he winked at her.

The End

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