“I will leave my notebook in the car.”
“Phone?”
“In my pocket.”
“Recorder?”
“At the B&B.”
“Good.”
Behind us, Kev’s voice carries from the kitchen. “Has anyone seen my spoon?”
“Have you tried the cutlery drawer, you absolute mystery?” Mish laughs.
AJ’s mouth curves.
“Romance is alive,” he murmurs.
I give him a look. “Breakfast.”
“Yes, Watch Manager.”
He laughs, and something in me warms to it in a way I have stopped pretending is harmless.
Handover happens in the usual blur of tired faces, practical notes and day shift pretending not to look too pleased that they are arriving as we are leaving. I keep my voice steady, cover what needs covering, answer the questions, and do not look at AJ more than necessary.
Which is still more than I should.
Afterwards, the station loosens around us.
I catch AJ’s eye once.
Only once.
Then I pick up my jacket and keys from the office and head for the side door.
No announcement.
No discussion.
No giving anyone time to turn breakfast into a spectator sport.
By the time I reach my car, AJ is crossing the yard towards his.
Close enough that I know he understood.
Far enough away that it could almost look accidental.
Clever man.
Outside, the morning is pale and cool, the kind of early light that makes Fellside look gentler than it is. The tarmac is still damp, the hills washed soft beneath the grey sky, and somewhere beyond the station a dog barks at nothing.
AJ pauses beside his car and looks across at me.
“Are we sneaking away?”
“No.”
