Page 73 of How to Fan the Flames

“Emotionally, cautiously optimistic. Physically, I’ve made peace with suffering.”

“It’s been four days.”

“It has been four educational days.”

“You walked normally this morning.”

“I performed normal walking.”

“There’s a difference?”

“There is when several firefighters are watching you like they’re waiting for a wildlife documentary to get interesting.”

I should not smile.

I do not smile.

Much.

He looks pleased with himself anyway.

“Ready?” he asks.

“No.”

“Excellent. We’ll start there.”

“AJ.”

“What? Honest answer. Very valuable.”

“If you write that I was difficult, I’ll know.”

He lifts his pen. “Watch Manager Hart opened the interview with a direct threat.”

“I said I’d know.”

“An implied threat.”

“A professional observation.”

“Right.” He writes something down.

“What are you writing?”

He turns the notebook slightly, but not enough for me to read it. “Professional observation.”

I look at him.

He looks back, entirely too innocent.

Four days ago, I thought that face was polished. A practised thing. Reporters must have them, I assumed. Expressions built for access. Friendly but not intimate. Open but not vulnerable. Just enough charm to get someone talking before they realised they had given too much away.

Now I am less sure.

The polish is still there, but it has been scuffed by station life. By hose drills and poor sleep and too much bad coffee.By Kev’s relentless campaign against his dignity. By the fact that he has spent four days being told what he doesn’t know and, to his credit, has mostly allowed it to happen.

“All right,” I say. “Ask.”