Walker screwed up his nose. ‘I think it’s to do with the fire last year at Hearts of Honeybridge.’
‘Sounds like a good reason.’
‘But people are expecting more of me now because of it. The promotion. The award. They’re all relying on me. It makes me feel a bit. . . panicked.’
‘I can understand that,’ Gabi said. ‘You’re in a responsible position. But you’ve coped well so far.’
‘Not always,’ Walker said, pushing his damp hair from his forehead and sinking to the bench beside her.
The image of his breath pluming in front of his face made Walker close his eyes, but the blackness behind his eyelids made him remember a million nightmares. He’d wake to crumpled sheets and crying out. He’d slept with a nightlight until he’d almost left secondary school. This was the part of his life he kept hidden. The fear. He opened them again and she was still watching him, an open, curious look on her face.
‘I used to suffer with anxiety,’ he said in the understatement of the year. ‘And now, it feels like people’s expectations of me are getting higher. Like I have more riding on me. What if I make a wrong decision and someone gets hurt? Worse still, what if I make the right decision–but too slowly– and someone dies?’
He exhaled deeply and met Gabi’s eyes again.
‘It’s a lot of pressure, I can see that.’ Gabi was listening. Really listening. Walker suddenly wanted to tell her everything, the whole story. It had been inside him for so long. He’d never even told Rosie. But where to start?
‘You’re obviously bloody good at your job, Walker,’ Gabi said. ‘If they want you to take the lead at work, it’s because they all trust you to do the right thing. You are an everyday hero. Just keep doing what you’re doing. One day at a time. It’s absolutely the right award for you to be nominated for.’
Walker exhaled. He was feeling calmer. One day at a time was good advice. Gabi’s reassurances had helped.
‘And you haven’t even won it yet, you’ve only been nominated! So don’t be worrying about that.’ She laughed outright. ‘You might be up against a doctor who has been working on a new cancer cure, or a nurse who gave her own blood in an operation.’
Walker chuckled.
‘Or someone who gave mouth-to-mouth to a guide dog to keep it alive for his blind neighbour!’ Walker let go and laughed.
‘True,’ he agreed. ‘There’s nothing to say I’m going to win.’
‘Exactly, so even if I think you easily deserve the award, try to stop worrying about winning it. Have a bit of fun.’ She grinned encouragingly. ‘Right, now. I’d better get back to it.’ She turned and began to hobble back to her bench. ‘See you around.’
‘Thanks, Gabi,’ Walker said, finally allowing his eyes to drop to admire her bum.
Chapter Thirteen
Gabi
The Lit Lounge was laid out and ready for Story Stars. A long wooden table bulged with crisps, biscuits, vegetables and hummus at one end, and an array of wine glasses and bottles at the other. The walls were adorned with children’s drawings of Easter eggs and bright yellow chicks, and the place was packed with people on Easter holidays looking for entertainment.
Wren was on the door, checking tickets and greeting people. Rosie was organising tiny children’s wooden chairs in a semi-circle, leaving a good amount of space at the front for Gabi’s leg on the carpet when she sat in the reading chair. The resident bookshop cats were draped over shelves, curled up in reading corners or stretched out in the window.
Gabi was strangely nervous. This was right out of her comfort zone. Tell her to swing on a trapeze thirty feet above the ground? Fine. Jump from a second-floor window as though catapulted by an explosion inside? No problem. Face a group of chattering children and read them a book? Terrifying. But she was determined to think of it as a new stunt to be conquered. She was ready for it.
‘Got your book ready?’ Rosie asked, appearing beside her. Gabi swallowed and waved the book in her hand. Rosie squeezed her shoulder and turned to help a family find what they were looking for. Children seemed to be everywhere. More than Gabi had ever seen in one place at one time before. On chairs and under them, behind curtains, running around bookshelves, rolling on the mat. The excitement levels were deafening.
She’d never had the maternal urge. Hardly surprising, given the family example she’d been set by her mamma and papà. But she had thought that desire to have a baby might kick in as she worked her way through her twenties and turned thirty. That biological clock she heard people talk about. But her feelings hadn’t changed. And as she observed the chaos in the bookshop around her, she wasn’t unhappy about that.
Looking at the book in her hands, she wracked her brains to see if she could remember books being a part of her life when she was a child. Had her mamma read to her in bed? Had her papà ever taken her to the bookshop and let her choose a new book? She snorted. The woman next to her jumped and she waved apologetically and pretended to blow her nose. The only thing she could remember her mother buying her was a video recorder, so that Gabriella could watch more action movies and stay out of her way. And as for her papà? The biggest thing he’d ever bought her was a one-way ticket to stay with her zio, zia and Isabella.
She sighed. These children were already winning at life, she decided. They had someone who cared about them enough to bring them to a bookshop.
‘Ready for action?’ Fox said, strolling towards her, wearing his signature checked shirt and a twinkling smile.
‘As I’ll ever be. . .’ Gabi said. ‘Although I’m not really sure what I’ve let myself in for.’
Fox slung an arm around her shoulder and she leaned against him momentarily. ‘Nothing a daring stuntwoman can’t handle,’ he joked and she nudged him in the ribs.
‘Can I shout cut at the end?’ Alex grinned, appearing beside him, guitar on his back.
