Gone almost immediately.
Still, I see it.
Tragic, really, the things a man will accept as encouragement when he is standing in a fire station with a guilty conscience.
“I appreciate the apology,” she says.
That surprises me enough that I have to remind my face to behave.
“But,” she continues, because of course there is a but, and it is probably wearing a high-vis vest, “I’m not interested in being part of a redemption piece.”
“No,” I say quickly. “Neither am I.”
Her eyebrows lift.
“I mean, not that I don’t need redeeming in some areas. Clearly.” I stop.Excellent. Wonderful. “What I mean is, this shouldn’t be about me learning a lesson at your expense. It should be about the work.”
Pippa watches me for a second.
Then she nods once.
“Good.”
Pippa looks at me for another second, then gestures towards the garage.
“Has Josh told you what the plan is?”
“Broadly.”
“What does broadly mean?”
“He told me where I can go, where I can’t go, what not to touch, and that if anyone gives me an instruction during a call, I follow it immediately.”
“That’ll do for a start.”
“He also told me not to ask follow-up questions while things are actively on fire.”
“That’s not exactly how I would phrase it, but yes.”
“I’m paraphrasing for tone.”
“Dangerous hobby.”
“I’ve built a career on it.”
Her look sharpens.
I lift a hand slightly. “Not like that.”
“As for the actual plan,” I say, moving on before I dig myself an even deeper hole, “I assume observing. Notes. Interviews when appropriate. Staying out of the way. Trying not to be a nuisance.”
Sean snorts behind us that suggests he considers the last item ambitious.
Pippa does not look away from me.
“Observing is part of it,” she says.
There is something in her tone I do not immediately enjoy.
