‘Got to run. I’ve got my induction at the gym.’
She dropped a kiss on her cousin’s cheek and blew one more to Nonna in the kitchen as she left Tutto Mio.
Chapter Twelve
Walker
Walker stared hard at himself in the mirror at the gym as he worked his way through his weight reps. He was almost at the end of his set and yet he wasn’t feeling the normal satisfaction, or release, that came with exhaustion. Instead, he was jangled.
It had been a long week since the pole-a-thon. Earlier that day Appleby had visited the station. He’d called together a team briefing and announced that the results had finally been officially verified and the accounts signed off. They’d raised over ten thousand pounds. It was an even better fundraiser than the annual open day. Appleby had congratulated everyone, but made a point of thanking Walker in particular for his organisation and execution of the day, saying it was commitment like this that made the difference in the service. That creating opportunities like this took you on to bigger and brighter things. Walker had felt the weight of the comment. He hadn’t responded yet to the conversation about the promotion and Appleby’s searching eyes as he shook his hand told him he was getting impatient to hear his decision. Walker had just looked away, his stomach dropping.
Now, he swapped his hand weights for a heavier pair. His biceps bulged as he started his curls, welcoming the pain that went with them, lifting until his arms shook.
The anxiety sitting in his gut about the promotion had only got worse when he got home from shift and opened his post. Aside from the usual circulars and promos there was a formal-looking white envelope and when he opened it, the first thing he spotted was the mayoral badge at the top of the paper. Then the signature at the bottom– in actual ink. Laurence Higginbottom. He scanned the page quickly and then forced himself to read it again, trying to make sense of the words. He, Walker McBride, was being nominated for a new award, the Everyday Hero Award, in the Honeybridge Annual Community Awards in May. The words punched him hard in the gut. There must be some mistake. He read on. He was to be invited to the awards ceremony evening where the winners would be announced. It was to be attended by all nominees and their guests, as well as local media and dignitaries. The mayor wanted to congratulate him on the nomination, which was testament to the bravery he showed every day, and wished him well for the evening. He looked at the words again.For the bravery he shows every day.He’d thrown the letter in the bin. For fuck’s sake. If only they knew.
He moved over to the punching bag and pulled on his gloves, wanting to hit something, hurt something, obliterate his memories. He was the last person he knew that deserved a promotion. The worst choice for a bravery award. He threw frantic punches until the sweat ran into his eyes and he collapsed against the bag, his breath rasping. It was only as he hung there, panting, that he spotted Gabi watching him in the mirror. He was surprised by the easy smile that sprang to her face when he looked her way. She began to hobble over the short space in her boot, leaving her crutches propped against the wall. She looked good in her kit. But he was not in the mood for small talk.
‘Hi!’ she said, pink-cheeked with exertion.
‘I didn’t know you’d joined?’ he said, keeping his eyes above the neck, very aware of her toned abs showing between her bra top and leggings.
‘I need to stay fit,’ she said, fanning her face. ‘And I’m determined to beat my physio schedule.’
He nodded, unable to think of the next thing to say. Wishing he could have the same determination to rise to a challenge, but his gut still churning at the thought of the letter. The responsibility.
‘You looked like you were really in the zone,’ Gabi continued.
He pawed at his glove, trying to free the strap to remove it. But it was impossible without use of his fingers. His gloves knocked together pointlessly. Gabi laughed lightly and pulled his hand towards her, resting the glove against her taut stomach to undo the tie at the wrist. He could see the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she concentrated. He looked away.
‘There,’ she said, holding the glove for him to remove his right hand.
‘Thanks,’ he said, turning his attention to the left. Still, he couldn’t think of anything to add. There was only one award he should be nominated for. Loser of the year. In fact, decade. He sighed and dropped the gloves to the mat.
‘Sorry, I’m probably interrupting. . .’ He watched Gabi bite her lip and start to turn. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’
‘No,’ he said in a rush of guilt. ‘Honestly. I’m finished actually.’ It was true, his whole body was heavy with fatigue. She tilted her head to check his expression. ‘My head was just somewhere else,’ he said. ‘Sorry.’
‘Thought it might be. You looked like you were working off some serious frustration.’ She mimed a little jab, an upper cut, and grinned. He exhaled slowly.
‘That bad, huh?’ she said.
‘Worse,’ he said, surprising himself.
‘Want to talk about it?’ she asked, and then, when the pause grew too long, ‘Of course you don’t. Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be nosy.’
He could tell she was going to leave.
‘I’ve been nominated for an award by the council– Everyday Hero of Honeybridge.’ The words fell out of him, and he realised just how much he did want to talk about it.
She paused and perched instead on the edge of the nearest bench to take the weight from her foot, and her lips curled into the biggest smile.
‘That’s amazing, Walker!’ she said and then, taking in the look on his face, she frowned. ‘But you obviously don’t think so?’
‘It’s such a big deal, you know?’ he said. ‘It feels. . . heavy on me. Like people expect a lot of me.’
Gabi paused, her eyes holding his while she considered her response.
‘But isn’t this to recognise things you’ve already done?’ she asked. ‘To thank you for something in the past?’
