“Please don’t,” Dan says without looking away from the toaster. “One Kev is enough.”
“Oi,” Kev says. “I bring morale.”
AJ laughs again.
He looks tired, because night shift is waiting for us and he has not yet learned the psychological skill of napping in self-defence, but he also looks oddly settled. Not comfortable exactly. He still has that slight alertness around the edges, as if the station might spring another humiliating task on him at any second. Which it might.
But he is listening.
He is letting the conversation move without trying to steer it.
He is being teased and surviving it.
That should not matter.
It does.
I study him for a moment whilst everyone is busy teasing each other.
His beard has not grown back.
Four days off would have been enough for a decent covering of stubble if he had decided to reclaim it. Enough for a shadow at least. Enough to make it clear the clean-shaven thing was temporary and practical and not a choice.
But he has shaved again.
Deliberately.
I force my eyes away from AJ’s jaw and step fully into the room.
“Evening,” I say.
Four heads turn, each greeting me in their own way. I can feel AJ’s eyes on me, but I don’t dare look directly at him, worried that every thought I had about him over those four days off is somehow etched across my face.
“Briefing room,” I say, before anyone can become too pleased with themselves. “Five minutes.”
There is the usual movement after that. Mugs put down, toast grabbed, chairs scraped back. Nothing dramatic. Just the small shift from station chatter to work mode. It is one of the things I like about nights, at least at the start. The building feels different. Quieter around the edges. Less admin noise. More waiting.
Waiting is not easier.
It is only different.
Josh is not in tonight, so the briefing is mine. I keep it short because briefings at the start of a night shift are either useful or theatre, and I do not have the patience for theatre.
“Weather is still poor,” I say, standing at the front with the incident board behind me. “Heavy rain on and off until early morning, surface water on the usual roads, possibleflooding on the lower lanes if it keeps up. Usual black spots to watch. If we’re turned out, assume the verges are soft and visibility is rubbish.”
Dan nods.
Kev lifts his coffee. “Inspirational.”
“I aim for memorable.”
“You aim for terrifying.”
“That too.” I glance down at the handover notes. “No outstanding issues from days. Appliance is available. Control has flagged possible weather-related calls across the county, so we may get moved if things get busy elsewhere. If we don’t get turned out, we use the time. Food, rest, reports if you’ve got them. No one disappears without saying where they are.”
My gaze moves to AJ.
“And you stay exactly where you are told on any call-out,” I say. “No matter how calm things look from a distance.”
