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It took the two of them a while to manoeuvre him safely into the pouch, but at last they were able to climb back over the rocks to the boat and get him safely on board.
‘Good work,’ said Eddie. ‘Let’s get him to the vet.’
And he turned the boat out to sea and set off back to the station.
Nikki had no idea if Adam knew Gatsby had been rescued. But they would radio back to the coastguard who could relay the message and get him to head to the lifeboat station. She reassured Gatsby as they powered back through the waves, burying her fingers in his rough fur, feeling his heart beat beneath her fingers, looking at his confused face as the breeze sent his eyebrows and whiskers and ears flying backwards. She could feel the relief on the boat. Everyone loved a successful rescue, even when it was just a dog. Perhaps especially when it was a dog.
Back at the station, the vet’s van had arrived to whisk him off to the surgery where Adam was apparently waiting. The crew headed back in for a debrief, then Nikki got undressed from her heavy kit and slid back into her pyjamas, shivering with fatigue and exhaustion. All she wanted to do was go back to bed. She could steal an hour. She had a site meeting at Windcutter Farm at two, with all the technical crew. Electricity, lighting, sound. Her least favourite part of the job, as she could never predict the problems. She needed all her energy.
She waved her comrades goodbye and plodded to her van. At home, she made herself a hot milky chai, spicy and sweet for comfort and to warm her through, then headed up to bed. She climbed under the duvet and fell asleep before even starting her drink.
A while later she heard someone knocking at her front door. It must be Adam, with news of Gatsby, and she cared too much to ignore him even though sleep was luring her back. She staggered out of bed and down the stairs.
On the doorstep, Adam looked shaken.
‘He’s going to be all right,’ he said. ‘They’re keeping him in, for observation. But he’s going to be all right. I can’t thank you enough. They told me at the station it was you who rescued him.’
‘It was me and Dan,’ she said. ‘Teamwork. I’m just glad he’s all right.’
She reached out to give him a hug. It seemed like the right thing to do. He held onto her for longer than she would have expected, but she realised he was struggling to keep a check on his emotions.
‘Losing him would have been too much to bear,’ he said into her shoulder. ‘I should have had him on a lead but I didn’t think he’d go towards the edge. It was a bloody rabbit. He can’t resist chasing them. One minute he was there and the next minute he’d gone over.’
‘It’s OK,’ Nikki repeated, not sure what else to say.
He gathered himself together and let her go.
‘Let me at least make you some breakfast. To say thank you.’
The prospect of breakfast with Adam was irresistible. He was still in his early morning walking clothes – a light grey merino sweater that hugged him, and a pair of faded jeans. The smell of him as they’d hugged had stirred something in her.
‘French toast?’ he said. ‘And freshly squeezed orange juice. And coffee.’
She couldn’t say no. ‘Can you give me ten minutes?’
He nodded. ‘Just come straight in.’
When she headed into his kitchen, having showered, cleaned her teeth, slapped on some moisturiser and pulled on some clothes, she was overwhelmed by the scent of vanilla, cinnamon and crispy bacon mixed with fresh coffee bubbling on the stove. She realised she was starving.
She sat at the island and he carried over a plate with the fluffiest French toast she’d ever seen.
‘There you go,’ he said. ‘A rescuer’s breakfast.’
She went to take it from him.
‘Hang on.’
She watched as he dressed it with a drizzle of maple syrup in the shape of a heart. She could barely breathe. What was this? A declaration? Had he felt something in the car yesterday? Had he been thinking about it too? Had her rescuing of Gatsby cemented his feelings and given him the courage to declare himself?
He smiled into her eyes as he put the plate in front of her. She could feel herself falling, falling, as if she’d lost her footing on the rocks earlier, her heart following on behind—
‘That’s from Gatsby,’ he said.
‘Oh!’ Her voice came out as a squeak and she hoped it sounded like an exclamation of pleasure.
She’d got the wrong end of the stick. Hopefully he hadn’t seen the mooning look of anticipation on her face. Hastily, she picked up her knife and fork and began to eat to cover her confusion. What was she thinking? Of course he wasn’t going to declare himself to her. She’d read far too much into everything – all those little moments she’d thought there was a frisson or a connection had been part of her fevered imagination. She was his neighbour, for goodness’ sake! Of course he wasn’t going to get embroiled with her. It was completely inappropriate.
‘By the way,’ he said, thankfully oblivious to her racing thoughts. ‘I’d love to do something to help for your party.’
