He looks at me for a second, then laughs. Not a big laugh. Not one of his polished little remarks. A real, tired sound that slips out before he can dress it up.
It suits him.
I hitch my bag higher on my shoulder. “Drink water tonight. Eat something decent. Stretch if you know howto do it without making it weird. You’ll ache, but you’ll live.”
“That sounded almost kind.”
“I said you’ll ache.”
“Still.”
I should leave then. It would be sensible. Clean ending to the day. Professional. Tidy.
Instead, for one unnecessary second, I look at him again.
His green eyes still sparkle despite his tiredness. His hair is flattened where the helmet has been, and the clean lines of his face make him seem less guarded than he did this morning. Less arranged. More present.
That might be the exhaustion.
I hope it is the exhaustion.
“Tomorrow,” I say.
He straightens a little, which he probably regrets immediately. “Tomorrow.”
I turn before either of us can say anything else, because there is no good reason to stand around any longer.
No good reason at all.
By the time I reach my car, I can hear Dan behind me saying, “Night, babyface,” and AJ replying something I don’t quite catch but which makes Kev laugh.
AJ appears in the station doorway a moment later, phone in one hand, bag over his shoulder, looking as if every step is a negotiation.
“Heading back to Carlisle?” I ask before I can decide not to.
He shakes his head. “B&B in Fellside. Marie Louise decided two weeks of driving back and forth would make me unbearable.”
“She thought you weren’t unbearable already?”
His mouth curves. “She likes to believe in potential.”
“Where are you staying?”
“The Rose Cottage B&B.”
I nod before opening my car door. “Drink water. Eat something that isn’t crisps from a petrol station. Stretch.”
“Yes, Watch Manager,” he grins.
I get into the car before that smile can become any more of my problem.
Amanda and Nour live in a house that looks as if it has been designed by people who know where the spare batteries are.
From the outside, it is warm stone, white-framed windows and a front garden that always looks one weekend away from being under control. There are two scooters by the wall, a pair of muddy children’s wellies near the step and a small painted sign on the door that saysWelcomein Amanda’s careful lettering, with a red fire engine added in the corner by Jamie, complete with a ladder twice the size of the house and flames coming out of what I think is supposed to be the roof.
I remember when Amanda and Nour first moved here, newly married and full of plans, with Nour talking about opening a small gallery in Grasmere and Amanda pretending not to be terrified by how much she wanted the life they were building. Back then, Jamie and Samantha were still more possibility than reality. Now the house is full of evidence of the family they chose and built together.
It is one of the reasons I applied for the Fellside job when it came up.
