Page 56 of Secret Paths

“I do not want Leeds,” I say before she can touch me. “I do not want the regional job. I do not want hotels and motorway coffee and pretending I am excited about a promotion that would make me miserable. But I also do not want to be the man who took the easy option because he was scared.”

She rests one hand on the back of the chair. “What if it is not the easy option?”

I look up at her.

“What if choosing the life you want is harder because it does not sound impressive when you describe it to someone else?”

“That is annoyingly plausible.”

“I have hidden depths.”

“You really do.”

Her fingers brush my shoulder, light enough that I could pretend not to notice.

I notice.

“I liked being good at my job,” I say. “I liked people knowing they could come to me. Not just customers. Staff, too. I liked being useful.”

“You would still be useful.”

“In a less shiny way.”

“Most useful things are not shiny.”

I huff a laugh. “That sounds like something from a motivational calendar in a dentist’s waiting room.”

“It does, unfortunately.”

“Very disappointing from you.”

“I will try to be more cutting edge next time.”

“Thank you.”

Her hand settles fully on my shoulder then.

Steady. Warm.

“You are allowed to take a job because it lets you keep the home you love,” she says. “You are allowed to choose work that gives you time to have an actual life. You are allowed to earn less money if it is still enough and the alternative makes you miserable.”

I look at her hand before I look at her face.

“And if people think I have taken a step down?”

“Then they are not paying your bills, living in your house or waking up in your life.”

The words are blunt.

They are also kind.

Trust Mandy to make kindness sound as if it has sensible shoes and a clipboard.

“I do not think less of you,” she says.

I meet her eyes.

“I did not ask that.”